"If you guys want to have a seat on the couch?" Kayla suggested, letting us into her apartment. "I can make a couple drinks."

"Good idea," Josh muttered.

"Can I have a minute?" Bryce asked.

Kayla nodded, and Bryce stepped back outside the apartment.

"What's going on?" Mr. Harrison asked, once he was gone.

"You're going to want to take a seat," Josh said. "And take a drink."

Mr. Harrison gave him a wary look, but took a seat on the couch, waiting for a drink that Kayla was currently working on.

Bryce came back a few minutes later, looking distressed.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I can't... I can't pronounce words," he informed me, his voice low.

I took his face in my cheeks, planting a quick kiss on his lips. "It's okay love. It'll come with time."

"I'm just really upset," he muttered, letting out a sigh. "And now I can't talk on top of it all."

"Okay dad," Kayla said, handing him a drink.

"Someone start talking," he said, looking between us.

"Want me to?" Kayla asked Bryce.

"No, I will," he stated.

I took a seat in the armchair, biting my bottom lip.

Josh took his drink, joining Kayla and her dad on the couch.

Bryce stood in front of his dad, taking in a deep breath and letting out slowly.

"Ease into it," Kayla suggested.

Mr. Harrison took a sip of his drink.

"I have cancer," Bryce stated.

My eyes widened, and Mr. Harrison began choking on his drink.

"Bryce!" Kayla exclaimed. "God Bryce, what the hell is the matter with you?"

"What did you want me to... to.. Fuck," he muttered. "What did you want me to do?"

"What?" Mr. Harrison demanded, as he regained control over his esophagus.

"Not that," Kayla declined. "Oh my God."

"I had..." Bryce started. "I had..." He let out a long sigh. "Kayla you're going to have to do this. I can't fucking talk."

She nodded. "Come sit down and relax."

"I don't want to... To take a..." He looked at me in frustration.

"You don't have to take a seat," I declined. "Come over and cool off."

He did as I asked, bracing his arms against the armrest of my armchair.

"It's okay," I said, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Don't get worked up. It only makes it worse."

"What the hell is going on?" Mr. Harrison demanded.

"A couple of months ago, Bryce had brain surgery," Kayla informed her dad, from her position on the couch. "To remove a tumor."

"What tumor?"

"They found it in his head. He was having really bad headaches, but being the idiot he was, he refused to go to the doctor. So he finally ended up there by force, and they did a MRI and found the tumor."

"I'm not an idiot," Bryce muttered.

"Do not start," Kayla ordered.

Bryce stood up straight, letting out a long sigh.

"So they removed the tumor and did all the pokey prodding things they do and, yes, it's cancerous," Kayla said, casting Bryce a look. "But that's not how we start our stories."

Bryce didn't say anything, taking in a deep breath as he stared up at the ceiling.

Mr. Harrison had a death grip on his glass as he stared at Kayla.

"So the glasses were a side effect of the surgery," Kayla finished. "As well as his speech impediment."

"It's not a... an impediment," Bryce declined.

"Then what would you call it?" Kayla asked.

"A hiccup."

She rolled her eyes.

"What impediment?" Mr. Harrison asked.

"Well at first he couldn't say any words that started with S," Kayla informed him. "But now it's just whenever he gets really upset or worked up that he reverts back to that."

"I told you that you wanted a drink," Josh stated, nodding towards Mr. Harrison's drink before taking a sip of his own.

"And you all knew this?" Mr. Harrison demanded. "You all knew that Bryce had cancer? And you didn't find this important information to share?"

"Did you know that you were leaving?" Bryce snapped, his eyes boring into Mr. Harrison's. "Did you find that important information to release?"

Mr. Harrison's jaw clenched.

"Bryce," Kayla said, with a slight shake of her head.

"What? Are we expected to pretend like it didn't happen?" Bryce demanded. "Why is he entitled to know anything that's happening in my life when he couldn't be bothered to hang around for it?"

"Bryce, I get that you're angry," Josh said, his voice quiet, "but this isn't the time."

"No," Mr. Harrison declined. "No, he's right."

Bryce's eyes widened in surprise.

That's the last person I expected to agree.

"I wasn't around for a majority of your life, so it's not fair of me to walk in now and demand to know what's going on," Mr. Harrison agreed. "But with that being said, the fact that you have cancer is a pretty big deal."

"Thank you for that revelation," Bryce stated, in a monotone voice.

"And I'm not entitled to know about it, no. I gave up that right when I left you and your sister. But that's something I would've liked to be informed about."

"And mom," Bryce added. "You walked out on the three of us."

Kayla gave him a look.

Mr. Harrison nodded, his lips pressed tightly together.

"You know, while we're all being honest here," Bryce stated. "I also had a drug addiction."

Mr. Harrison stared at Bryce, his jaw falling slack.

"Okay Bryce," Kayla said, making eye contact with Josh. "I think you need to take a walk to cool off."

"I do not need to take a walk," Bryce declined.

"Come on," Josh said, guiding Bryce towards the door.

Mr. Harrison sat in silence, his hand tightly gripping his glass.

"I'm sorry dad," Kayla apologized. "He's just worked up."

"So the drug addiction is a lie then?" Mr. Harrison asked, quietly.

Kayla exchanged glances with me.

"Can I get you something else to drink?" Kayla asked, standing up.

"Oh God," Mr. Harrison muttered.

"It's probably not what you're thinking," Kayla declined.

"It doesn't matter," he said, with a slight shake of his head. "I walked out on my only two children, and now I don't even know my son."

I'm sensing a mental breakdown.

"Okay," I said, moving to sit next to Mr. Harrison. "Just take a few deep breaths."

He casted a look at me, clearly unamused.

"I know this isn't what you were expecting," I continued.

"Not what I was expecting?"

Kayla let out a humorless laugh, handing him another drink.

"But Bryce is still your son," I continued. "He's still the person you're coming to know. He's just got a few hidden secrets."

"Like cancer," Mr. Harrison deadpanned. "And a drug addiction."

"And now you know," Kayla said, raising her glass to her lips and taking a long sip.

"What kind of drugs were they?" Mr. Harrison asked, looking between the two of us. "Do I even want to know?"

"As I said, probably not what you're thinking," Kayla said, with a shake of her head.

"Sleeping pills," I filled in.

Mr. Harrison's eyebrows furrowed together as he took in this new piece of information.

"I know that this is a lot for you to take in right now," Kayla said, after a few moments of silence passed between us. "But you have to understand that this was Bryce's decision. He had to be the one to tell you. And it was a very big step for him to tell you anything at all."

"It was an accident," Mr. Harrison corrected, quietly.

"He could've skimmed over it," Kayla pointed out. "But he made the decision to fill you in. That's a big step for him."

"I'm pretty sure he told me out of spite," Mr. Harrison corrected. "But thank you for trying to make the situation more bearable."

Kayla finished off her drink, letting out a long sigh.

"So is that it then?" Mr. Harrison asked, glancing between the two of us again.

"All of Bryce's secrets? I think so," I said, glancing over at Kayla for confirmation.

"No, the cancer," Mr. Harrison corrected. "The tumor's gone, so the cancer's gone?"

Kayla cleared her throat, glancing down at her empty glass. "Would you like another drink dad?"

"I'd like some answers."

"No," I declined, with a shake of my head.

Mr. Harrison raised his eyebrows at me. "No I can't have answers?"

I couldn't help but laugh, as did Kayla.

"No, the cancer isn't gone," I corrected. "There's still a part of the tumor that they couldn't get to, that they couldn't remove. And that part is still cancerous, it's still there."

"So what are they doing for it?" Mr. Harrison questioned.

"Chemo," Kayla filled in. "And then once it's shrunk enough, radiation to kill it off."

"And so the chemo is working then?"

Kayla and I both exchanged glances.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" Mr. Harrison pressed.

Kayla abruptly stood up, swiftly leaving the room.

"Why do I sense something's wrong?" Mr. Harrison asked me, concern lacing his voice.

"The chemo is working in the sense that the tumor is no longer growing," I said, quietly.

"No longer growing?"

"The tumor is stable now."

Mr. Harrison took a few moments to absorb what I was telling him.

"But it's not shrinking?"

I shook my head. "Not yet anyways, he just started an increased dosage of chemo, so we have to give it some time to work."

Mr. Harrison closed his eyes for a few moments, and then nodded, reopening his eyes. "Well at least it's stable then."

The front door opened, and both Josh and Bryce came back into the living room, followed by Kayla.

Josh raised his eyebrows at Bryce.

"I apologize," Bryce said, through gritted teeth.

Josh rolled his eyes, clearly not buying Bryce's forced apology anymore than the rest of us.

"It's quite alright," Mr. Harrison said, standing up. "No need for any type of apology."

"Good," Bryce said, glancing over at Josh.

"I think it's best if I go ahead and go," Mr. Harrison said, glancing over at Kayla.

"You want to leave on this note?" Kayla asked, raising her eyebrows.

"No one's..." Bryce started, pausing for a moment. "No one's prohibiting you."

Kayla placed a firm hand on Bryce's shoulder. "That's enough."

Bryce clenched his jaw tight, glancing over at me.

I just raised my eyebrows at him. This isn't the Bryce I've come to know and love, and I didn't appreciate his hostile attitude at the moment.

Bryce let out the gust of air he'd been holding in, glancing up at the ceiling before looking back down at his dad. "I'm flying out tomorrow, 11 AM," he said, quietly. "Why don't we meet up for breakfast?"

The entire room was silent, Josh's eyes sliding over to stare at Bryce and Kayla's eyebrows rising in shock.

I'm pretty sure my jaw even fell slack.

"Just you and me," Bryce added.

"Alright," Mr. Harrison agreed, quietly. "I'll pick you up at 8."

~*~

"So are you ever going to talk about it?" I asked, as Bryce peered out the window on the plane, his fingers intertwined with mine.

He glanced over at me, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Breakfast with your dad?"

He nodded, glancing back out the window again.

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my seat.

Bryce reached up, tugging off his facemask.

"What are you doing?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him.

He held up a finger, before letting out a sneeze.

"That would've been gross," he confirmed, with a slight laugh.

"As for breakfast with my dad," he said, discarding his facemask as he reached in his carryon bag for a new one, "it was every bit as awkward as you'd probably think it would be."

"Why'd you do it then?"

"Because I'm a dick."

I rolled my eyes.

"And I at least owed him that much I guess." Bryce tugged on a new facemask with a shrug, before leaning back in seat, shutting his eyes.

I'll never understand his thought process.

I spent the rest of the flight working on event planning for Ms. Wilcott, trying to get the summer camp back in order.

I'd literally left her at the worst possible time. Steven hadn't returned to work since his dad had been hospitalized, and Clayton was no longer on call since he'd moved to Florida. So I'd left just her and Kylie to run the camp for both Friday and today.

I had to make it up to them somehow.

Bryce wrapped his hand around mine as we stepped out into the airport terminal, his eyes sweeping the airport for his mom, who was supposed to pick us up.

After a few minutes, it became clear to both of us that Regina must be running late.

"Let's just head over to baggage claim," I suggested.

Bryce tugged off his facemask, and I raised my eyebrows at him as he tossed it in the nearest trashcan.

"I can't believe my mom didn't come," he muttered, shaking his head.

"She's probably just running late," I reasoned, squeezing his head. "Let's go claim our baggage before someone else does."

He muttered something too low for me to hear under his breath, reluctantly following me.

As we were waiting for our baggage to come around, I spotted Regina coming through the crowd.

Except she didn't look like herself.

She was wearing a pair of loose-fit jeans and a white v-neck with a sweater pulled on over top, her arms pulled loosely around her chest as she searched the baggage claim area for us.

I reached my hand up into the air, cautiously waving it around. I still wasn't sure if that was Regina or not. I'd never seen her in such casual wear.

But a smile lit up her face, and she hurried over to where we were.

"You're late," Bryce deadpanned, as Regina reached us.

"I know," she said, in an apologetic tone. "I can explain."

Bryce gave her a onceover, confusion rippling throughout his face. "I thought you had to work this weekend," he said, in an accusatory tone. "And that's why you couldn't come to my tournament."

"I did."

Bryce just raised an eyebrow at her, clearly as confused as I was.

"Can I help you carry anything?"

"No, we're good."

She nodded towards the exit, and we followed her out to the parking garage.

The walk was silent, the strain between Bryce and his mom making the surrounding air tense.

"I did work this weekend," Regina said, once we were all settled in the car. She reached over and started the ignition. "But I received a call this morning."

"Form who?" Bryce asked, raising his eyebrows.

He'd taken the backseat with me, and he loosely wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

Regina let out a long sigh, slumping back in her seat.

Bryce glanced over at me, and I raised my eyebrows at him, signaling that I didn't know what was going on anymore than he did.

Regina turned to face us, the car still in park. "Mr. John passed."

I felt as though the air had been squeezed from my lungs, a sharp pain pressing against my chest.

"Passed?" Bryce managed to choke out. "As in passed away?"

Regina nodded, reaching up and wiping a lone tear off of her cheek. "I'm afraid so."

I didn't know what to possibly say in this situation. What I could even do.

Steven's dad was gone.

"We were always close," Regina continued. "So once I heard, I went down to be with his family."

Bryce bent over, pressing his forearms against his knees.

I reached over and ran my fingers across his back as he began to slightly hyperventilate.

"No," Bryce declined, glancing back up at his mom. "No, he's not dead."

"I'm so, so sorry," Regina said, reaching up and wiping more tears that were falling from her eyes. "I know how much he meant to you."

A surge of anger passed through Bryce's features, and I immediately recoiled from him.

"Meant to me?" Bryce snapped. "He was there for me more than you ever were."

"Bryce," I said, quietly.

"He came to more baseball games for me than you ever did," Bryce continued. "Hell, he came to baseball games that his own kid wasn't even playing in just to watch me play."

Regina stared at him, her eyes wide in shock.

"Don't tell me you know how much he meant to me," Bryce said, his voice full of venom. "Because you'd have to be around to know first."

All I could do was stare at Bryce in shock, as could his mom.

Where was all of this coming from?

And then Bryce bowed his head again, reaching up to cover his face.

Regina slowly turned around, gripping both hands tightly on the steering wheel.

I reached over and slowly ran my hands over Bryce's tensed back, unsure of what to say or do to make this situation any less tense.

After a few minutes of silence, we slowly pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the Anderson's place.

Bryce looked up after a few minutes, taking to staring out of the window. I could see him wiping his face, but he didn't say anything, instead just removing my hand from his back and intertwining his fingers through it, squeezing my hand tight.

I lifted our connected hands to my lips, kissing the back of his hand.

We arrived at the Anderson's house. It was the first time I'd been here, and I couldn't help but stare for a few minutes.

I didn't realize how loaded Steven Anderson was.

He lived in a two-story home with marble columns coming down in front, a grand front porch and a balcony out on top. There was a luscious green lawn that extended out across the property, littered with multiple different shrubs and different flowers. This clearly took timely upkeep, like hours.

We pulled up into a circular driveway, Regina parking the car behind a Porsche.

"Who is he?" I whispered to Bryce.

"The Andersons do well," Bryce answered, before opening up the door to get out.

Clearly.

I followed Regina up to the front door, Bryce's hand still firmly grasping mine. She rang the doorbell, the sound echoing throughout the house.

A man in a suit answered the door.

"Hello Ms. Harrison," he greeted with a smile. "Bryce."

"Hello Mark," Regina greeted, with a smile.

Bryce nodded.

"Come inside," he said, stepping aside.

I repeat, who are these people?

There were a few people that I didn't recognize inside the kitchen, all surrounding Mrs. Anderson, who had fresh tear tracks on her cheeks.

Mrs. Anderson immediately extended her arms when she saw Regina, giving her a tight hug. "Thank you for coming back."

"Of course," Regina said, returning her hug.

"Steven's upstairs," Mrs. Anderson said to the two of us. "He hasn't seen anyone yet, maybe he'll see the two of you."

"Doubt it," Bryce muttered.

"We'll give it a shot," I said, with a small smile as I nudged Bryce in the side.

Bryce led me around into the living room, which contained a grand staircase.

"Okay, pause," I ordered, causing Bryce to look over at me in surprise. "Who are they?"

"It's all family money," Bryce informed me, with an eye roll. "They come from a long line of wealth."

Lucky.

We climbed up the grand staircase and went down the hall.

"If you and Steven are sworn enemies, how do you know his home so well?" I asked Bryce.

"If I wasn't over at Clayton's, I was here," Bryce filled in. "Mr. John was always good to me."

"But you and Steven hate each other," I filled in.