Page 37 of Edge of Heaven

“Hey… would you want to hang out tonight? We could order room service and just veg. Like put on sweats, or even your PJs, and watch a movie or talk or whatever. No strings attached.”

Her eyes meet mine and she seems conflicted.

“Mick, I…”

“It’s obvious you have a lot on your mind,” I say, “but if you don’t want to talk about whatever’s going on, I’d love to talk about Hettie’s offer. This could be huge for both of us.”

“I know.” She nods. “All right. I’ll come down to your room in about an hour. I want to change, take off my makeup, and call Toby. Then I’ll come over. You need to order dinner right away, though.” She smirks. “I’m starving.”

“I’m pretty hungry too. You can look at the room service menu and text me what you want, and I’ll order it while you do what you need to do.”

“Perfect.”

We ride the rest of the way to the hotel in silence and part ways when we get off the elevator.

“Give me about forty-five minutes,” she says.

“I’ll be there.” I watch her go, making sure she gets into her room before going down the hall to mine.

I flop down on the bed and grab the room service menu, scanning it briefly. A steak with a baked potato and asparagus sounds amazing. And caramel cheesecake for dessert. A minute later, my phone dings with Taryn’s order and to my surprise, it’s the same as mine. Except no cheesecake.

Impulsively, I add a second slice to the order when I call it in, as well as a bottle of champagne. If Hettie doesn’t want to pay for it, I’ve got my per diems for yesterday and today saved up, so I can use those.

I get undressed and pull on a pair of sweats and a long-sleeved Henley. It’s March, so it’s still cold in New York, and I turn the heat up a little. It seemed like Taryn was freezing all day today, even after Hettie turned the heat up, so I want to make sure she’s comfortable here.

There’s a knock on the door twenty minutes later, and Taryn is standing there in sweats, an oversized sweatshirt, and her hair in a ponytail, but she looks as beautiful as ever.

“You’re early,” I say as I move aside so she can come in.

“Toby’s in treatment,” she murmurs, “so I can’t talk to him until later.”

Treatment?

“Uh, what kind of treatment?”

She sinks down on the edge of the bed and rubs her temples. “Toby has leukemia.”

That news comes out of nowhere, and it takes me a second to wrap my head around it.

“Wait—what?” I hurry over and sit next to her. “Oh, my God. Is he going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “He had treatment a few years ago and was in remission, but it came back. Now he’s in an experimental program. It’s a clinical trial.”

“How’s it going?”

She shrugs. “They don’t give us real-time updates. It’s a complicated process of testing, treatment, a break, and then they start again. It’s been seven months. He has five to go.”

“And then what?”

“Then… we find out if it’s working.”

“What if it isn’t?”

She shakes her head, shuddering a little. “I can’t… I can’t even go there.”

“Oh, honey.” I reach out and wrap my arms around her. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”

She falls against my chest, and I hear her soft sobs. She tries to say something, but it’s muffled by her tears, and I gently stroke her hair.

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