I remember the side effects that Dr. Helm laid out a few months ago when we considered this option. Intense nausea. Lack of an appetite. Hair loss. Peripheral neuropathy. The list goes on and on, and quite frankly, I’m not sure Dad can endure that. The entire process has the potential to weaken him, and he’s already the weakest I can see him getting.
My heart begins to splinter in pieces as I imagine him having to go through all of that.
It’s so unfair.
Dad looks at Coy. Coy nods.
“You have my word,” Coy tells him, his voice just above a whisper.
Dad looks at me, his eyes blurry before he looks at Dr. Helm.
“I want to try the new medicine, Dr. Helm. Let’s give it a shot. What do I have to lose?”
“Your life,” I tell him, blinking back tears. “You have your life to lose.”
Dr. Helm sits quietly, fading into the background of the room. I can’t see him past the tears anyway.
“Bellamy, I don’t have a life right now anyway,” Dad says. “This isn’t how I want to live.”
My lips shake as I try to regain control of myself. “You have me to live for. I need you. You can’t just play with your life like this. Don’t you see that?”
A single, solitary tear drips down my father’s face.
“I’ve lived for you my entire life,” Dad says, choking back emotion. “I’ve held on and fought and gotten up every single morning just for you.”
Tears flow down my cheeks in heavy rivers. My insides twist into tight, unbearable knots as I feel my grip on life slip.
I know he’s right. I know he’s fought for me and lived for me, but I’m not ready for him to give that up yet.
“All I wanted to do was to make it long enough for you to find someone to love you like I do,” he says. “I knew it would be Coy. I just had to wait long enough.”
Coy bows his head.
“You’re going to be fine, Bellamy,” Dad says. “And I’m not dying today. But if I do, then I’ll get to see your mother again, and I’m so ready for that day.”
A sob escapes my throat as I listen to his words.
“It’s time,” Dad says, looking at Dr. Helm again. “I want to start the new medicine as soon as it’s available. And that’s that.”
With a nod, Dr. Helm stands. “I’ll let the nurse get the instructions ready and get everything approved. But, in the meantime, if you all need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me.”
I nod, unable to speak through the emotion in my throat.
Coy stands. “Thank you, sir.”
“Of course,” Dr. Helm says. “It was nice to meet you.”
“You too,” Coy says.
The doctor leaves the room, and a nurse returns.
“Do you all need a few minutes?” she asks, reading the room.
“We’re good,” I say.
She props the door open and goes to my father. She unlocks the brakes on the wheelchair.
“You two can follow us out,” she says brightly before pushing Dad out the door.
I turn to follow them, but Coy stops me. His eyes have a kindness, a depth of concern that I’ve never needed more than I do this moment.
“You okay?” he asks, wiping my tears away with his thumbs.
“No.”
He pulls me into his chest and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “We’re going to figure this out, okay? We’re going to get through it together.”
His words comfort me. They give me hope.
He gives me hope.
And while it scares the shit out of me to need someone like I need him, I can’t deny it. Not anymore.
I can’t control this cancer journey any more than he can control his music career. But maybe he’s right. Perhaps we can get through it together.
“I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too.”
Twenty
Coy
“Are you comfortable?” I ask Joe.
He sags against his recliner and motions for me to hand him the bag of chicken strips we got him on the way home.
“Here you go. Dinner is served.” I fork the bag over.
He takes it from me but doesn’t release my gaze. “Thank you, Coy. I knew you had it in you.”
“I can always give up chicken strips to the hungry,” I say, trying to deflect the conversation from going back to something dark. “Want honey mustard? Barbecue sauce? My mom has a stash of Chic-Fil-A sauce in the cabinets that she thinks is hidden. I could grab some of that, but you’d be sworn to secrecy forever.”
He grins. “You know what I mean. Thank you for being there for Bellamy.”
“I told you I would.”
“And I’m going to hold you to that.”
I look over my shoulder. Bells is in the kitchen, getting her dad a glass of ice water.
My heart begins to pound in the way it does before I do something really, really fucking stupid. I’m well acquainted with the feeling. But instead of making me nervous and ready to puke like it usually does, it feels … right.