"I broke up with Bruce because we never should have been together in the first place." Taylor was trying to remain calm, but it hurt to have these accusations thrown at her. Especially when there was at least a tiny thread of truth to them. Particularly the part where she'd never gotten over her college crush on Justin.
"You and Bruce were perfect together," her mother insisted. "Just perfect!"
"No, we weren't. We were settled and boring." She hated to hurt her mom in any way, but Taylor refused to feel guilty, and wouldn't apologize, for wanting breathless and sexy and exciting. Especially now, when it would be all too easy to see nothing but struggles ahead if she wasn't so damned determined to hold on to hope and appreciate the beauty around her. "I'm in love with Justin. And he's in love with me."
Her mother was silent for a moment, obviously regrouping after her initial panicked responses. "Taylor, please," she cajoled, "you have to see this isn't what you need right now. That he isn't what you need. More than ever, you need to have a stable life. Your new business is already enough stress on your plate--you need to be surrounded by people who love you, who have always loved you, who will take care of you no matter what. You need someone you can trust at your side, not someone who comes and goes when it suits him."
Taylor tried to be understanding--this wasn't just about her, it was also about the daughter her parents had lost so many years ago. Her mother would do anything to keep Taylor and her brother safe.
"You don't have to worry about Justin hurting me," she said in a voice that she hoped came across as gentle but also firm. "I promise you that he would never hurt me in a million years." It was exactly the opposite, in fact--Justin had made it abundantly clear that he'd choose hurting himself over hurting her.
Just then, he walked out of the transplant center. He looked confident and handsome. Every eye turned to watch him as he covered the distance between them.
A shiver went through Taylor as she realized that he was hers now.
"I have to go now, Mom. I'll give you a call tomorrow. And don't worry," she added, making sure to say the mantra she ended every call with. "Everything's going to be okay."
She barely had time to shove the phone back into her pocket before Justin pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
"Damn, you taste good," he said against her lips. "I don't think I'll ever be able to get enough of you."
Despite her nerves having returned with a vengeance during her mom's call, she couldn't help but say in a breathless voice, "I won't ever be able to get enough of you either."
He nuzzled her neck, making every last part of her melt against him. But though it would be easier just to focus on how much they wanted each other, there was no point in hiding from reality.
"How was your meeting?" she asked.
He didn't lift his mouth from where he was nibbling at her earlobe. "Great."
She wanted to beg him to take her somewhere private where they could finish what he was starting. Instead, she forced herself to say, "What kind of information did they ask for during the evaluation?"
With obvious reluctance, he drew back. "I met my independent donor advocate, and we talked through my physical, mental, and emotional well-being."
"Did you tell your advocate that we're together?"
"I sure as hell did. I told her I love you, that I've always loved you, and that I would do anything for you."
It was one thing to hear him say those words to her and only her, but to know that he'd said them to a stranger was overwhelming. "Did you also tell her--" God, she hated to ask this, but she had to know just how forthright he'd been with the counselor who would be instrumental in helping him decide whether to actually go through with donating a kidney if they were a match. "About your mother?"
"I did." Grief flashed in his eyes for a split second before he said, "I told her I would have done anything to save my mom and that I've been working like hell for the past five years to come up with a cure."
"Did she think that maybe there was some kind of...transference going on? With me?" She fumbled for the right words, not at all convinced that she had them. "That maybe because you couldn't save your mom then, you'll do anything to save me now, even if it means putting yourself in danger?"
"Taylor." He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "I'll never stop missing my mom, but even if I had been able to save her, I would still want to do this for you. With you. Which is why I passed the evaluation with flying colors--and the physical they gave me too. We've already moved on to the informed-consent part."
She knew what informed consent was all about, where they made sure donors fully understood the risks and benefits of being a donor, how it could affect their lives both now and in the future, and that they could delay or stop the process at any time, even on the day of surgery, if need be.
"The good news," he continued, "is that there happens to be a donor in Yountville who said she'd be happy to tell her story and answer any questions I've got. Instead of just talking on the phone, I'm going to head over to her house to talk in person. It would be good if you came too."
"I don't know." She really didn't, could barely tell which way was up anymore. "Maybe it would be best if you went by yourself."
"I know you're still trying to wrap your head around everything," he said in a gentle voice, "but surely meeting a past donor in person and seeing how well she's doing--and how happy she is with her decision to donate--will go a long way to helping you let go of some of your concerns."
Feeling even more like she was on a runaway train than she had since getting her diagnosis, she said in a slightly desperate tone, "We don't even know if you're going to be a match yet." She was trying not to borrow trouble, but it was so hard...
"I've got this feeling in my gut." He took her hands and laid them on his chest so that she could feel the beating of his heart. "And here too. I know we're going to be a match. And when it turns out that I am, my advocate is confident she can fast-track everything. Instead of the process taking up to six months, she's going to pull out all the stops to get the transplant scheduled ASAP. The only possible holdup would be the final approval from the Human Tissue Authority, which could take a couple of weeks. But as soon as we have that, we'll be good to go."
All her life, Taylor had been swept along by other people's plans. By their decisions. She couldn't let that happen again. Especially now, when it wasn't just her health, her life, her future at stake.
"Justin, please, you need to slow down."
"And just stand by twiddling my thumbs while you get sicker? No way." He was as passionate as she had ever seen him. "You know as well as I do that the sooner I get all the tests done and confirm my compatibility for the transplant, the sooner you'll be better."
She couldn't argue with that, but she could point out a different truth. "You didn't come home to spend all your time and energy on lining up doctors and tests. You were supposed to have this week off from stress, from labs and hospitals, so that you could spend time with your family and enjoy your brother's wedding. You only have a few more days before you head back to Germany. You should make the most of them with the people you love."
He tugged her even closer then, as though he didn't want anything at all keeping them apart. "That's exactly what I'm doing--I'm spending my time with the person I love most of all. You. And I'm not going back to Germany. I'm due a break anyway, and like I said yesterday, I can set up a lab here.
"
There was nothing she wanted more than for him to stay here with her. But she couldn't be selfish. "It will take time to set up a new lab and to find scientists you want to work with. Your research is too important to be stalled like that." Frustration bubbled up and over. "This is one of the biggest reasons why I didn't tell you about my diagnosis! Because you have a life. An important one that you can't give up for me."
"Once you're better, I can turn my attention back to finding a cure for breast cancer. But the fact is that my mother is gone and no amount of research will ever bring her back." He was as fierce and as frustrated now as she was. "She's gone, Taylor, but you're still here. And I'm damn well going to do whatever it takes to make sure you stay that way."
She tried to hold back her tears, but with Justin's arms around her, she couldn't stop the breakdown. And she knew why--she felt safe with him. Safer than she'd ever felt with anyone else. Safe enough to stop trying to hold herself together every single second and give in to a few seconds of feeling shattered and scared.
"I wish I just felt one thing, one way, instead of shifting all over the place from second to second," she said, her words slightly muffled against his chest. "I'm happy. I'm scared. I'm hopeful. I'm guilty." She lifted her face to look at the man who was her best friend and her lover. "I'm desperate for a donor, but I'm also desperate for that donor not to be you." She wanted to scream in frustration. "Now that we've found each other again, now that we're finally together, why can't everything be easier? Why can't we have just a little bit of happiness without all of this?"
*
Justin hated to see Taylor cry, even though he knew bottling up her tears would only make her feel worse. Thank God he was here to stroke her hair, to wipe the tears away, to hold her, and to make sure she knew that he was always going to be here for her, no matter what.
When he'd left the hospital just minutes ago, he'd been so sure, so certain that everything would be okay. He'd felt so positive. But he'd stupidly forgotten that he wasn't the only one who needed to make decisions about their future.
Whether she realized it or not, Taylor had always been her own woman, with a strong mind and purpose and sense of right. Sure, he could dig out every trick in the book to try to persuade her to do things his way--and, honestly, at this point, he wasn't ruling anything out. Not when her health was on the line. But deep in his heart, he knew better.