Forbidden Heir (The Heirs 8)

My gaze locks on hers. “I love you.”

Her features tighten, and she closes her eyes as she whispers, “I love you too.”

Getting up, I wish I could take the day off, but there’s just too much work to do. I grab my phone from next to the bed, and leaning over her, I press another kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll be back soon,” I say again before I leave so I can go get ready for work.

Chapter 15

DANNY

How do you face death?

How do you live with the fact that your days are numbered – not in years, but in months – days – hours even?

How am I supposed to process any of this?

How am I supposed to just accept that I’m going to die?

I won’t get married.

I won’t have children of my own.

I won’t.

I can’t.

I refuse to.

“I refuse to!” The scream echoes through my apartment, the sound sharp and angry.

Getting up from the bed, I run to the living room and grab my laptop. I feel feverish as I open the device and type in, ‘Glioblastoma survivors.’

My eyes latch onto the first article.

Ten years.

Oh God, someone has survived ten years!

I find more stories of survival, and with each one I read, it builds my hope back up and forces the fear down.

I spend the entire morning reading survival stories, the treatment they had, what they faced, and how they overcame it.

They have to keep going for checkups every three months, and the risk of the tumor coming back is always there, but they’re alive.

One woman even had a baby of her own.

Oh God, there’s hope.

If they can survive, then I can fight this as well.

My breathing is fast, and I stop reading, soaking in the hope like the dying person I am.

There’s no certainty, but I’ll take whatever hope I can get.

Feeling a hell of a lot better, I walk to my room to shower and pack my bag for the weekend.

I’m going to enjoy the wedding with my family and friends. I’m going to have fun and share in Christopher and Dash’s happiness.

On Sunday, I’ll tell my family, and on Monday, I’ll check into Cedars-Sinai. On Tuesday, Dr. Friedman will remove the tumor. I’ll do everything he tells me to do.

I’m going to fight this.

I’m going to fight for my happily ever after with Ryker.

I’m going to fight for my unborn children.

I’m going to fight for my life like I’ve never fought before.

I’m not giving up.

Not this Hayes. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.

I will fight until my last breath.

I step into the shower and go through my routine. I wash my hair, taking care with the healing incision. When I’m done drying off my body, I lather myself in lotion.

For the first time in my life, I’m mindful of every single thing I do. I enjoy every second.

I’m going to live my life to the fullest.

I pick a cute top that hangs off my shoulders and pair it with black jeans. I slip on my favorite heels and then take my time putting on my make-up.

I’m spraying on some perfume when I hear the elevator open.

Picking up my diamond-studded earrings, I’m busy putting them on when Ryker walks into the bedroom. He comes to a sudden stop, and then his lips part.

“Damn, you look fucking hot.”

“Thank you,” I grin at him.

“What happened? You looked like you were dying this morning, and now you’re ready to kick ass.”

His words stab at my still-fragile heart, but I shove the feeling aside. “All the love and tender care you gave me did the trick,” I say. I place my hand on his arm as he leans in for a kiss.

“God, you smell good,” he murmurs before deepening the kiss.

I wrap my arms around his neck, taking in the feel of his strong arm around me. When his fingers brush over my neck and shoulder, my skin sizzles to life under his touch. Feeling his tongue stroke against mine. His lips kneading mine. I take it all in, and I bask in every second.

When Ryker pulls back, I smile wide at him. “I love you, Ryker West. So much.”

His lips curve up, and his eyes fill with emotion. “Same, babe. Same.” He steps back, his eyes roaming over me again. “Damn, I have one hell of a sexy girlfriend. How fucking lucky am I?”

I let out a chuckle as I take hold of his hand and ask, “Have you eaten?”

“No, I rushed over to check on you. Work is a little crazy.”

“Let’s grab something to go and get back to the office.”

“You sure?” He asks, his gaze scrutinizing me.

“The sooner we get everything done, the sooner this weekend can start.” Placing my free hand on his solid chest, I ask, “Did you change our reservations from two rooms to one?”