Page 69 of Wish I Didn't Want You Back

Marty grinned. “Stick with me, darlin’. This place is better than Netflix. Why don’t we head inside? I need to take my meds.”

Marty’s voice sounded tired despite the brave front he was putting on.

We made our way down the hall, past bulletin boards filled with the week’s events. I opened Marty’s door, letting him shuffle in first, then stepped to the side for Harlow.

Marty’s space was simple. It had a bed, two small recliners, a TV that only seemed to play game shows and the news, and a small kitchenette. The walls were covered in photos.

Harlow hesitated for a second before settling into the chair next to my grandfather. I stood by the window with my hands shoved in my pockets.

He took his meds and kicked the stand out on the recliner to get comfortable.

He sighed and looked between the two of us. “It took you both long enough.”

I looked at Harlow and smirked. “I had to make sure she wasn’t going to run off this time.”

She smiled but there was nothing sweet about it. “And I needed to give you enough time to grow a brain.”

He grabbed the blanket off the back and laid it along his legs. He grinned up at Harlow. “I always liked you, you know.”

Harlow laughed. “I always liked you, too.”

Marty faced her. “I’m just glad you decided to come back before I ended up in the grave.”

“Hey,” I said. “Let’s not go there, okay?”

My grandpa leaned his head against the recliner. I saw Harlow watch him. I could tell she was just noticing how thin and weak he was.

He closed his eyes briefly. “You never want to talk about it, Brooks. You want to keep pretending that I’m not sick. My time on this earth is coming to an end, and no amount of avoiding it is going to change that.”

She turned to me, eyes narrowing slightly. “What is he talking about?”

Grandpa cracked an eye open. “You haven’t told her?”

I rubbed a hand over my jaw, feeling like a total ass. “I was planning on it.”

Harlow’s gaze bounced between us. “Tell me what?”

He sighed. “I have cancer.”

I clenched my jaw and swallowed down the lump in my throat. I hated that word. Hearing it always hit me hard.

Harlow’s back stiffened. Her eyes filled with worry. You could tell she was trying to hide how much that news upset her. “What kind of cancer?”

“Lung cancer,” he answered before I could.

She blinked rapidly. “How bad is it?”

“Stage four.” His voice was softer now.

Her lips parted as she sat there staring at him. “I am so sorry. I had no idea.”

“Because I didn’t want you to find out like this,” I told her, shooting my grandpa a glare.

For the first time since we got here, there were no jokes or teasing—just cold, hard truths.

He ran a hand over his knee. “I hope I live long enough to see the two of you get married.”

I looked away, but I could feel her staring at me from the corner of my eye. Harlow was smart as a whip. She was no doubt connecting the dots. Did she realize that was one of the reasons why I asked her to marry me?

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