I slide my arm around Chloe's waist and whisk her onto the sidewalk.
For a few moments, her posture softens. She relaxes as we cross the street, move into the teal lobby, find the elevator inside the building.
But the second we hit the button for the fifth floor, her shoulders are back up at her ears.
The easiness is gone.
And, this time, I'm pretty sure it's not coming back.
The second someone calls her name, Chloe jumps to her feet. She presses her hands together and sucks a breath through her teeth.
I reach up. Take her hand. Squeeze tightly. "You ready?"
She pulls back, breaking our touch. "It shouldn't be long." She moves forward. To the technician in grey scrubs.
She follows him past the patients only double doors. Disappears into the testing area.
I'm not allowed back there. Not that she wants the support.
If there's something I've figured out sitting next to Chloe for the last twenty minutes, it's that she's determined to do this on her own.
It must have been exhausting going through treatment like that.
Feeling like sharing her dread was a burden.
Hell, I'm exhausted just thinking about it.
No. That's not quite right.
The thought of Chloe taking on the world alone doesn't make me tired.
It makes my stomach drop.
It makes my heart ache.
With every minute I wait, it gets more and more clear.
There isn't a chance in hell I can let her go.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chloe
"Finished." The technician smiles as he walks me back to the changing area. "The office will call with your results."
If they're good.
If they're bad, they'll ask me to come in. As if that isn't as good as screaming you're totally fucked.
"Thanks." I move into the dressing stall. Shed my gown and step into my jeans. Socks. Bra. Tank top. I got to keep my underwear on. Not that it really made me more comfortable.
It's hard to feel comfortable in a plastic tube.
Especially when it's screening for cancer.
I toss my gown in the hamper and sling my backpack over my shoulders.
It's all waiting now. It will be a few days. It always is.