Hating You, Loving You (Inked Hearts 4)

"'Cause it's harder for me to get away?"

"Sunshine, you overestimate my intellect."

Chapter Forty-One

Chloe

After the test, Dean and I wait in the hospital cafeteria. The bright, cheery room is all aqua walls and wide windows.

For once, it doesn't feel like the sunlight mocking me.

It feels…

This might not be, okay. But I'm ready to face reality. Whatever it is.

Dean distracts me as well as he can. We trade gossip about clients, and high school friends, and celebrities then we move on to movies, and food, and tea, and friends, and sex…

And, well, we kind of stick with that topic.

I'm on my fifth cup of tea when my phone buzzes with the doctor's number.

We take the elevator to the fifth floor. Walk the narrow beige hallway. Turn the handle to suite 505.

I step inside with all the strength I can muster.

Dean stays behind me, his hand still glued to mine.

The receptionist nods. "Chloe, he's ready for you."

He's ready for me. With my fate. With…

Fuck, I just have to know.

Now.

I squeeze Dean's hand as I cross the room. He follows me into the patient area.

"Suite three," the receptionist calls.

It's the first door on the right. A standard doctor's room. Teal patient bench. Plain grey chairs. Stool. White counter. White cabinets. Sink.

"You'd think the guy wouldn't make me wait anymore." I sit in one of the chairs and fold one leg over the other.

Dean sits next to me. He rubs the space between my thumb and forefinger with his thumb.

The soft gesture is comforting. Calming. Not enough, but some.

I rest my head on his shoulder.

Let my eyelids fall together.

No matter what, this isn't the end. At best, I have four more years until I'm in the clear. At worst…

God.

Please don't let it be at worst.

I inhale the moment. The soft touch. The warmth of his skin. The clean, linen scent of his soap.