Page 36 of Hollywood King
Fourteen
Cathy
It seemedmy decisions involving Heath strayed to impulsive chased on the heels by grief, because right now, I had some serious regrets. I wished he’d never seen me like this again. Now that he had, I was certain he’d never see me any other way. My lot in life: the perpetual sick girl. Nothing in my future but pain, pity, and prayers.
Like Heath, the driver insisted on opening my door for me and, for some reason, felt the need to help me inside my home. Okay, I was probably leaning on him a little, too, and he likely only followed Heath’s direct orders.
Once myself and my belongings were safely in my apartment, I showed him the door and locked it behind him. Meds, tea, bed. I knew this would pass. They always did, at least in the beginning. But Heath didn’t know that, and how could he forget having to lower my fever in his bed with bags of ice? I’d bet he’d never woken up next to a half-naked woman like that before.
I stood at my coffee pot, waiting for it to spit hot water into my mug at just too little than I wanted. Once it sputtered its last drop, I poured in some honey and braced my hips against the countertop while I waited for it to steep. At this rate, Heath and I would never sleep together. I couldn’t figure out if I wanted him so badly because I never got to have him, or because of something more troubling. I loved him, I’d always love him, but that didn’t mean we could make a relationship work as adults. Especially with the hell I was about to fall into with cancer treatments. A light knock on my door interrupted a solid brooding session.
The door swung open before I could answer. Edgar slipped my spare key into his pocket, and closed the door behind him. “You think you can get rid of me that easy? I called the hospital and got a look at your chart.”
“You think you can use my spare key to bring me extra clothes when covering doubles, like it was meant for?” I sighed, but he wasn’t swayed by exaggeration, so I asked him if he wanted some tea instead.
He followed me in the kitchen and hopped on my counter while he waited for the coffee pot to heat up again. Once he clutched his own mug of Lemon Zing tea, he opened his mouth. “Heath doesn’t know, does he?”
“About what?” I prayed feigning innocence would run him off the topic. Eddy didn’t let things go easily.
“Come on, Cathy. You don’t have to hide from me. I’ve seen you at your best, your worst, all of it. We’ve been friends, and no matter what happens, we’ll stay that way. So, I’ll ask again, even though I know the answer, Heath doesn’t know right?”
I swallowed my sip of tea and avoided his gaze. “No, he doesn’t. And I’m not telling him, and as my doctor, you’re not telling him.”
He checked behind him in mock surprise then levelled me a look. “I’m your doctor, huh? Didn’t get the memo, but okay. I agree. Back to the point, you don’t think he’d want to know, or that he deserves to?”
I slipped my long sleeves over my hands and clutched my mug tight to my chest. “It’s not that he doesn’t deserve the truth, or honesty in general, I just don’t want him to treat me differently if he found out.” The last time we were together…when I offered him my virginity and he refused to take it.
“You don’t kno…”
I sighed and crossed to his side of the counter and hopped up next to him. “Look, I’m going to get TMI here, but you know Heath and I have a history. Well, my being sick so much when I was younger was a huge sticking point for him not er…” I turned my face so he couldn’t see the blush racing up from my neck. “Well, having sex with me.” How in the hell could I be blushing talking about sex when I let a man spank my ass in the backseat of his car?
He put his mug on the counter with a click and turned toward me as best he could. “You mean you are not telling the man about your very serious cancer diagnosis because you want to get some ass?”
I shoved him hard, sloshed my tea onto my lap, and he tumbled off the granite, but of course landed on his feet gracefully. I mopped at my top with a dishtowel before tossing it toward the sink. “It’s not about getting sex. I could do that anytime I wanted probably. It’s just, I just got him back, and I don’t want him to treat me like an invalid. We spent years in that dynamic. I’m scared of getting stuck there again.”
“And you think keeping this secret is the foundation for a great relationship?”
I slid off the edge and exited to the living room. I wish the bastard wasn’t the voice of logic and reason right now. The kitchen had grown too crowded for my list of justifications. “We aren’t in any kind of relationship. And I’m not sure I want one, but I’d like the choice at some point. If he sees me as this sick girl again, he won’t touch me, and the chemistry between us is a huge part of what made us so great way back when.”
He plopped on the couch curling his feet up behind him thanks to years of beachside yoga. “Look, you do what you need to do to take care of yourself. But you have to remember the last time something happened between you two was ten years ago right? Sometimes, that chemistry wanes.”
Doubtful he wanted to hear the remix of our activities at present, but he picked up the gist just looking at my burning ears.
“You guys did do something. Tell me what?”
“Are we gossiping now? Is that a thing we do?” No. No it absolutely was not.
He shrugged. “Now that I’m not trying to get in your pants, sure, we can gossip, and chat, and hang out. All those platonic things you can’t do with a girl you’re trying to date.”
I threw up my hands and stalked to my bedroom. Screw him and his calls back to reality. Maybe for a little while, I wanted to live in a fantasy world where Heath and I could be together. Really together. My chest ached at the thought. I wanted it, but I wouldn’t admit it aloud. “Let yourself out,” I called once I settled myself under the covers. Light streamed in one window and I rolled away from it to block as much as possible
Eddy shuffled around in the outer rooms and then padded back to mine with a bottle of water, some Tylenol, and a granola bar. Once everything was lined up on the bedside table, he gave me a wave and told me to call if my fever came back, he’d come right over.
Beautiful bastard. I wanted to smack him and hug him at the same time.
I snuggled into the soft grey down coverlet and let my mind drift back to Heath. We get a second chance, and the universe has to deal me this shitty hand? Was it a sign we shouldn’t be together?
Being a woman of science, I didn’t really believe in fate or soul mates. Even when I was younger, I didn’t, because if fate existed, that meant my life was orchestrated to be one shit show after the other. When I found medicine, it was the closest thing to magic I ever glimpsed. But no, I didn’t think my life lay cupped in the hands of some deity yanking strings around to perform some indecipherable dance.
