5 Bikers for Valentines

Tara stayed silent. Her eyes left my face, but she didn’t say a word. Tears pooled in her eyes, and I watched as the first one slid down her cheek. The sight softened me, but not enough to change my mind. Enough was enough. I wanted answers, and if I didn’t get them, then I was done.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I said softly. “I’ve been trying to be patient with you, but if you won’t let me in, then what’s the point? Why even try to be together if you won’t talk to me?”

More tears fell down Tara’s face as I spoke. I stared at her, silently begging her to talk to me. She didn’t. She just kept staring at me, silently crying until I turned to walk away.

I didn’t want to. Everything inside of me was screaming to turn back around, but I couldn’t. If Tara couldn’t talk to me, then I couldn’t be with her. It was that simple. And that painful.

“I’m sick,” she said from behind me. Her voice was so soft that I barely heard it. I turned back around slowly. She was still staring at me, crying in earnest now.

“What did you say?” I asked.

“I’m sick.” She took a step toward me. “I have cancer, and I just found out a little while ago. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how.”

“Cancer,” I repeated flatly. “Cancer. What kind of cancer?”

“It’s a rare form of brain cancer,” she said quickly. “They caught it because I’ve been getting these terrible headaches for a couple months now. They come on suddenly and knock me on my ass. I wanted to ignore them, but after a while, I knew I couldn’t. I went in to see a neurosurgeon, and he diagnosed me. I’ve been working with a team of oncologists, but they aren’t sure how to begin my treatment. This cancer, it’s rare and aggressive.”

The words flew out of her mouth as if she couldn’t wait to be rid of them. I was in shock. I stared at her, taking in her words, but not able to say anything in response. I knew she’d been keeping something from me but this? This was crazy. This couldn’t possibly be true.

“How can you have cancer?” I stammered. “I mean, you’re young and healthy. It doesn’t make sense. I don’t understand how.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice weak. “I should have told you when I found out. You and my dad.”

“Darren doesn’t know?” I asked.

She shook her head. “No one does.”

“Tara, how the hell could you keep this a secret?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know.”

She looked so fragile. Her eyes were red with tears, and her cheeks were flushed. Her shoulders were slumped forward, and she was shaking. I didn’t think. I just moved forward, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her against my chest.

She sobbed into me, shaking and weeping uncontrollably. I knew this had been killing her. No one should have to face something like this alone, and yet, Tara had. She’d closed herself off from me, her father, and everyone else she loved. It wasn’t fair to any of us but most of all, it wasn’t fair to her.

“I’m right here,” I said. I kissed her hair. “I’m right here, okay? You aren’t going through this alone. I won’t let you.”

She nodded against my chest but just kept crying. I tightened my hold on her, and we stood there, in the middle of the PT building, locked in an endless embrace. I never wanted to let her go. Now that I knew the truth, I didn’t want to spend a single second away from her.

“I need you to promise me something,” she said, gently pulling away from me. She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “Don’t tell my dad or Cathy. Not yet.”

“Tara,” I began, but she shook her head.

“I’ll tell them,” she said. “I swear. Just, not yet. I’m not ready for them to know, okay? Once the doctors have a solid plan for my treatment, then I’ll tell them.”

I couldn’t deny her anything. Not now. I nodded, and she smiled gratefully, falling into my arms again. I felt my eyes burn with tears, but I pushed them away. Now wasn’t the time to break down. Tara needed me.

***

I wanted Tara to spend the night, but she insisted on going home. She was exhausted and just needed time to herself. So I walked into my apartment alone and fell on the couch. My head was spinning. I didn’t know what to do but I didn’t get long to think about it. There was a knock on the front door that drew me back to reality.

I hurried over, thinking it was Tara, but found my mother standing outside.

“Brought you some groceries,” she said, holding up two bags.

“Thanks,” I said. I forced a smile on my face and watched as she unloaded the bags in my kitchen.

While she put away the food, she cleaned off the counters. I wanted to tell her about Tara’s illness. The secret was burning a hole in my gut, but I kept my mouth shut. I promised Tara I wouldn’t say anything and I couldn’t break that promise.