Page 49 of Collateral Damage
Why are the parents rushing this?
“Long distance is nothing when you’re in love,” her father says. “And we have the resources to make sure you can get every weekend together. A Christmas wedding sounds delightful.”
I gape at the man, honestly stunned he wants them to get married so quickly. Sybil looks my way again, and I swear this is a woman who wants to be rescued.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I deadpan.
“What’s wrong with Christmas?” Gregory shoots me an annoyed glance. He obviously thinks I should butt out. “There are so many venues we can choose from right here, and even if they’re booked, we can pick a weekday.”
I can’t help it—I fucking laugh. Meanwhile, Sybil looks horrified, Ethan’s jaw is set in an angry line, her little brothers are wide-eyed, and the parents are all chummy with the idea. It’s fucking ridiculous.
“Why are you pushing for a shotgun wedding?” I demand.
No answer.
Why the hell isn’t my brother speaking up?
“Cooper,” my mother says, exasperated. “Please, let us handle this.”
“This wedding isn’t about you,” my father adds.
I laugh again. “This wedding isn’t about you, either. Don’t push them to get married before they’re ready. Two years isn’ttoo long to be engaged, and thisisn’ta shotgun wedding. There’s no need to rush, so leave them alone.”
Mom looks at the rug as if it’s the most fascinating thing she’s ever seen. The three other parents exchange frustrated glances, and a sudden shock of fear jolts down my spine.
“There’s something you’re not telling us,” I accuse. “What’s going on?”
“We’ll talk about this later,” Mom says, her voice cracking as she waves her hand dismissively.
“Mom?” Ethan questions. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
It’s about time he spoke up.
“Maybe we should tell them.” Dad’s eyes are pained as he takes Mom’s hand. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him wear this kind of broken expression before. It’s as if his walls have shattered.
“Not today. Not now,” Mom says.
Fuck this. If she doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable, it’s too late for that.
Next to me, Chandler groans. “Please tell us, Tori.” He uses her nickname, which normally makes her heart melt, but she stiffens.
I grab Chandler’s fisted hand and hold on tight. “You might as well spit it out, Mom. We’re not leaving here with questions.”
Her eyes bounce from person to person. She looks like a cornered animal. Her expression crumbles, and my heart crumbles with it. Fear claws up my throat, my mouth tasting of pennies.
“I’m so sorry, kids. I don’t know how to tell you this…” She wipes a tear with shaky fingers. She shakes her head, like she can’t say it, and looks to Dad for help.
He shifts in his seat, reaching across the armchair to take her hand, eyes turning to me and Ethan. “Your mother has stage four pancreatic cancer.”
What?
No.
No. No. No. No.
My stomach churns violently as cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. The world turns as the denial echoes through my head.
This can’t be happening.
