《What The Heart Craves》Chapter 13 - Part 1
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I felt exhausted, but held onto how much I had gained. Adonis revealing how he felt about me had been unexpected, but it made me so happy. But seeing the specialist had taken away any of the hope that my condition wouldn't be that serious.
Adonis held me while I cried. He patiently rubbed my back while I wept against his chest. After a few minutes, my tears eased, and I pulled away to brush the moisture from my face.
"You feeling better?" he murmured, his eyes soft and caring. I nodded.
The tears didn't alter the verdict, but crying had eased some of my bottled up emotions.
My attention moved to the house.
"I don't want to go in there," I admitted softly. I could just imagine how my dad was taking it, and I did not know how Alex would handle it.
"It won't be that bad," he said, trying to ease my reluctance to face the rest of my family.
He gave me an encouraging smile. I let out a sigh. It had been such a long day already, and I felt tired, but there was no hiding now.
I opened the car door and got out. Adonis joined me by the front door. He didn't touch me, but I felt his presence right beside me every step of the way. He opened the door for me and I stepped inside. There was a soft murmur of conversation coming from the kitchen, and I hesitated for a moment. Adonis stopped beside me, allowing me to catch my breath. I took a deep inhale, trying to muster to face my family. When I entered, the conversation hushed.
My family turned to me. My mother had been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy. I breathed in, trying to unclog the emotion in my throat. My father walked to me and embraced me.
"Don't worry. You'll be fine," he assured me, and I nodded my head. I didn't want to cry again and if I attempted to talk, I would bawl my eyes out again. "We are all here for you, and we'll help you through this."
Tears stung but refused to cry again; I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I love you," I murmured hoarsely to my dad.
He hugged me tighter. "I love you too, Lacey."
It had gone better than I'd expected. My brother had an unreadable expression on his face. When my father released me, Alex pulled me into a hug and held me so tight it took me by surprise. He didn't say a word, but I felt his desperation as he held me. It scared him. I swallowed hard to keep myself from crying. I'd taken as much as I could and needed to escape. He released me.
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"I'm a little tired," I said. It wasn't a lie, but what I needed more was time to let the news sink in.
"Sure baby," my mom said, giving me the understanding that I needed space.
Adonis walked out of the kitchen with me.
"You okay?" he asked as he stood in front of me at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes searched mine. I stood on one step higher so our eyes were level.
"I just need time to process everything," I said. I needed time to think about all my options and what the outcome for each one would be. Facing my fears of what could happen was important for me to take the next step. Time was running out, and I had to make my decision.
"You need company?" he asked, reluctant to let me go.
I nodded. I needed space from my family, but having him around made me feel more peaceful. Thinking that I wanted all the time I could have with him and I didn't want to waste one second we could have together.
I led the way up to my room, and he followed a step behind. I didn't know if my parent's would have a problem with the two of us alone in my room, but at that moment I didn't care.
There was a soft click of the door as Adonis closed it behind us. I kicked off my shoes and lay down on the bed. He did the same. We lay facing each other.
"You want to talk?" he asked as we stared at each other. I shook my head. I just wanted to lie beside him and let my thoughts run through my mind. Anything I had to think about, I didn't want to say out aloud.
His eyes drifted over my face and I closed my eyes, enjoying being able to be together with him without needing words to fill the silence.
I must have fallen asleep because the next moment I woke up the bed was empty beside me and my room was dark. I noticed a blanket that had covered me fell to my waist as I sat up in the bed. The clock beside my bed told me it was late.
My stomach grumbled, and I got.
The house was dark except for the light coming from the kitchen. I could hear the murmur of voice as I approached the doorway.
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"I feel helpless," I heard my mom say, and I stopped. The sadness in her voice tore through me.
"I know." It was my father.
"Did she say anything to you?" my mom asked.
"No," Adonis answered, sounding tired.
"Do you think she'll do the surgery?" Alex asked, sounding agitated.
That had never even crossed my mind. I had to have the surgery. It wasn't an option it was the only treatment.
If I didn't go through with it, the tumor would grow and I would have more symptoms. Who knew how bad it could get? If I refused the surgery, I was as good as dead.
"She'll do the surgery," Adonis assured him. He knew me well.
He sounded worried, but I heard something else in his voice. Sadness. He'd kept it so together when he was around me I forgot how this affected him and how he was coping with my diagnosis.
"How long before she has to do the surgery?" The question came from my father.
I did not know because I'd stormed out of the appointment.
"The doctor said the sooner the better," my mom answered. She'd obviously asked the doctor some questions after I'd left.
For all I knew, I could rush to do the surgery, and I'd have no more time left. I shook my head. No, I wasn't ready to do the surgery just yet but I couldn't delay it indefinitely. I could have a little more time. Even though I was hungry, I stepped back, needing to get away before anyone heard me.
This was something I had to decide on my own, I didn't stop walking when I got to my room instead I went to my window and climbed out onto the roof. The night was beautiful; the stars sparkled above and the full moon glowed. I lay down and looked up into the night, trying to figure out what I was going to do.
There were so many things that I still wanted to experience before I died. I knew there would never be enough time to fit in everything, but there were some things I could do before then.
I needed time, and I didn't care what the specialist said. I wanted some time to do the things I wanted before I placed my life in the balance.
Adonis. We hadn't even really been together. It seemed so unfair to discover how he felt at a time now when I did not know what lay ahead, but I wanted at least one month to not worry about surgery and dying. For a chance to concentrate on doing some things that I wanted to.
There were other things that I had decided, and I needed to speak to the specialist to make sure everything was in order before I had the surgery. I wasn't sure how Adonis or family would feel about it, but it was something I felt I had to do.
I heard the soft rustle and the sound of soft steps on the roof, then I was looking into the concerned face of Adonis above me.
"You okay?" he asked, and I nodded my head. I was okay as I was ever going to be. I'd made my decision, but I wasn't sure how my family or the specialist was going to feel about it.
"I think you need to get some sleep." He offered me a hand, and I sat up and put my hand in his. He lifted me to my feet.
He was right; I was tired, and I needed to rest. Inside my room again, I got into the bed and he got in too. This time he opened the comforter and go in. When I climbed in, he pulled me closer and he lay on his back. My head rested against his chest and I closed my eyes for a few moments, enjoying the closeness. For those few moments, I ignored everything that was wrong and tried to concentrate on what was right. And Adonis felt so right.
Tomorrow I would make the appointment to see the specialist again, and I would face the reaction that my decision was going to because. Adonis squeezed me tighter, and I reveled in the feel of him holding me so close. I fell asleep feeling safe.
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Book of TLC (Poem Book)
My Poems, writing contests, children's books and written nothings. Some mature some aren’t. Some are funny, some aren’t…You get it right? Poems start when I was still in school, as early as grade 9.
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