The Girlfriend (The Boss 2)

“No. Slightly emotionally confused. But that could be due to the recent cancer news, which I did not take well.”

“Really?” I hated that he kept saying the c-word. It hadn’t quite sunk in for me, yet.

“I cried for a full day when they told me I would have to have chemotherapy. A manful, stoic cry, of course, but very dehydrating.”

“I wish you would have called me. Even though we fought... I wish I could have been there for you.” The thought of him facing the news alone made my heart hurt.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he began, and stopped himself. “It was something I had to go through on my own. It isn’t that I wouldn’t have wanted you to be there... but if you were there, I would have been more worried about how you were taking it.”

“That sounds fair. Especially the way we left things.” I couldn’t look at him just then. It felt like it might hurt, like staring at the sun. “How long have you known?”

“Almost four years now.” He cleared his throat. “It was the diagnosis that prompted me to propose to Elizabeth. I suppose I was trying to take control of my own destiny, live like I was dying, all of those trite things you’re supposed to do when you’re embracing life.”

“And maybe you were trying to cling to someone?” I suggested gently.

His snort of laughter broke the quiet. “Like a bloody life raft.”

That reminded me. “There’s something else I have to ask you.”

“Anything.”

I took a deep breath. “I know things between us are... weird right now. But Holli is in Paris, and I don’t really have anyone else in the city I’m close to. And I’m so scared of needles and blood and all of the rest of it, I just... I really need someone...”

Here I was, talking about needles and blood, and he’d just gotten out of the hospital. He would go back into one in a matter of a few weeks, for awful procedures that probably involved getting stabbed in tons of delicate little veins. I couldn’t hold it together in front of him at the prospect of going alone to my own abortion. I started crying, and he immediately got up and came to my side. Sliding onto the bench beside me, he pulled me into his arms, his lips brushing the top of my head as he held me.

“I would never dream of letting you do this alone,” he said, stroking my hair down my back. It was almost painful, him touching me like this when I didn’t know exactly where we stood with each other.

Then I remembered what he’d told me about going back to England, and my stomach knotted. “Oh no. You can’t go with me. I couldn’t get an appointment until after New Year’s Day, and you’ll be gone.”

“That’s three weeks away,” he was doing the math in his head, I could tell. “Perhaps I could postpone the start of my treatment—“

“No!” I sat back and brushed the tears from my cheeks. I was not going to have him feeling guilty about getting life-saving cancer treatment. “Don’t you dare. Why didn’t they start you immediately?”

“I didn’t want to miss Christmas. I don’t know how the next year will pan out. If chemotherapy doesn’t work, if I have to pursue more aggressive therapies… I thought I should give myself a good holiday to bolster my spirit.” He tried for a smile, but it was tremulous, and he gave up too soon.

“Oh no. No, don’t,” I stopped myself before I could tell him not to cry. It seemed only fair that he should cry if he wanted.

Man, I thought I’d had a bad week.

He reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. “No, I’m fine. We can talk about that later. I want to make sure you’re well taken care of before I leave. I imagine the wait is interminable.”

On that score, he was entirely correct. I sniffed. “Yeah. I really do not like being pregnant.”

“If you could see a doctor next week... would that be too soon?” His hand fell to rest on my shoulder. “You’d be surprised at the mountains one can move just by throwing a bit of cash at them.”

“Tomorrow wouldn’t be too soon.” I laughed miserably. “Let me guess, all rich men have an ’abortions guy’ on speed-dial to take care of your mistresses?”

He winced slightly at the truthfulness of the statement. “Not exactly. But I do have an acquaintance who went through a similar situation, and he was able to have it handled quickly and discreetly.”

“Jesus.” I dropped my head to my hands.

He didn’t know what to say. What could either of us say in this situation? “Just tell me what you need. Ask me for anything. I don’t want this to be difficult for you.”