Forbidden Heir (The Heirs 8)

I’m determined to have a future with him, to have his children.

My lips curve against his, and then I whisper, “In a month, I’ll be Danny West.”

“Say that again,” he murmurs.

“Danny West.”

Ryker kisses me with the intensity of all his love… the very love that kept me from dying.

Epilogue

DANNY

Three years later…

I’ve been feeling sick the past week, and it’s getting harder to hide it from Ryker.

I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.

Fear claws its way up my spine as I park my car outside the hospital.

I know Dr. Friedman warned me that most cancer patients don’t survive past five years, but I was hoping I’d be one of the few to make it.

When the headaches and nausea returned, my stomach bottomed out. Part of me wants to put my car in gear and get out of here, not wanting to know whether the tumor has returned. The other half of me knows that’s not an option. Not if I want to get ahead of this thing.

Just to think that I’ll have to go through the surgery, radiation, and chemo again makes my heart shrivel.

But I’ll face it all again if it means I can get another three years with my husband.

My phone begins to ring, and seeing it’s Ryker, I quickly answer. “Hey.”

“Where are you?”

My heart begins to beat heavily in my chest. Ryker will be so angry if he finds out I’m hiding this from him.

Shit, I should’ve told him.

Closing my eyes, I admit, “I’m sitting in the parking area at Cedars-Sinai.”

“What?”

“I’m at the hospital. I’m seeing Dr. Friedman in twenty minutes.”

“Wait for me. I’m on my way.”

Before I can get another word out, Ryker cuts the call.

Emotion pushes up my throat as I climb out of the car, and after shutting the door behind me, I lean back against it. I try to focus on my breaths.

It’s going to be okay.

Shh…

It’s going to be okay.

Minutes later, I see Ryker’s car as he pulls into the parking area. When he gets out of the vehicle, he jogs toward me.

“I’m sorry,” I begin to ramble. “I should’ve told you when the headaches returned. I was just… scared.”

Ryker’s features are tight with worry as he nears me, and then his arms wrap around me. “I’m here.” He pulls back, his eyes locking on mine. “When did the headaches start?”

“A week ago. I’ve also been nauseous,” I spill the beans.

“Fuck.” Ryker keeps an arm around me as he glances at the hospital. “Let’s go, or we’ll be late for the appointment.”

My legs feel like lead as we walk toward the entrance, and with every step, my body tightens and my heart shrivels. Panic begins to build in my chest, and I come to a sudden stop, shaking my head. “I thought I could, but I can’t.” I take a step backward. “I can’t do this again.”

Ryker pulls me closer to the wall, and then his arms lock around me. “You can, Danny. You can.”

Tilting my head back, I whimper, “What if this is it? What do we do then?”

“This isn’t it,” he growls. “I told you I’m never letting you go, so you’ll just have to give it your all again. For me. For us.”

I begin to nod, but Ryker still has to pull me to Dr. Friedman’s office.

We’re shown to an examination room, and the moment I walk inside, my heart pounds against my ribs. “Oh God,” I whisper as my breaths rush over my lips.

Ryker lifts his hands, and framing my face, he stares deep into my eyes. “Deep breaths, babe. I’ve got you.”

Dr. Friedman comes into the room, a warm smile on his face, but the moment he sees our worried expressions, it fades. “This can’t be good.”

“Danny’s having headaches again, and she’s nauseous.”

“Okay, let’s do some tests before we start worrying. It can be anything. It doesn’t mean the tumor has returned.”

Ryker pushes me down on a chair, and Dr. Friedman orders a nurse to draw blood while he begins with the usual checks, then he says, “Even though it’s unlikely, let's do a pregnancy test as well.”

“Really?” I ask.

“There’s always the possibility.”

I follow the nurse to a restroom and pee in a cup. When I walk back into the examination room, I hear Ryker ask, “If the tumor is back, what are our options?”

“Same as before,” he says, “I’ll remove what I can, and then we start treatment.”

“How many times can you do that before it’s not an option anymore?” Ryker asks as he pulls me down to sit on the chair next to him. His hand clasps mine tightly.

“It all depends on Danny’s health and how far the tumor has spread.”

“Hopefully, we caught it in time,” Ryker mutters.

Minutes later, the nurse comes back in and hands Dr. Friedman the pregnancy test.

When his mouth curves up, my eyes widen. “What? Am I pregnant?”