Page 88 of The Hookup
What sort of toxic foundation would that child have? It was hardly the fairytale world of the Stones.
How could she have ever believed that their loveless relationship, based purely on need and desire, could ever end well?
If he had stayed, if he had even given her half an hour of his time, it would have given her hope, especially now, in the wake of her wretched sadness.
But he hadn’t even given her that.
It had been exactly what they had agreed to. Two people getting together for a physical connection. She had been stupid to ever think it could be something more. The gift bag on her coffee table caught her eye. Inside was a flimsy parcel wrapped in thin tissue paper. She unwrapped it and lifted up the black and peach-colored bustier. The lace was so wispy and thin, it felt like gossamer against her skin.
Thiswas how he saw her.
This was what came to his mind.
This told her exactly how he saw her as. A sex object. And he expected her to put that on, and spend the night with him. The old Kay might have done that in a heartbeat.
But now?
She wanted more, because she was a woman, and not a whore. She wanted a man to love her, for her, and because he wanted to be with her, not for his release, but because she was so much more than that.
She tossed the flimsy garment carelessly to the floor, not caring that it was a designer label, or that it had cost a ridiculous amount of money.
This was what he wanted to see her in, becausethis, and everything that followed once she put it on, was the basis of their relationship.
Chapter 28
“It’s the best cancer to have.”
That’s what the doctor had told him. He remembered looking at the man, waiting for the punchline of what was definitely a god awful joke.
Seriously?
“Then I’m a lucky son-of-a-bitch,” he’d replied, in a sarcastic voice. “What do I get at the end of it? A fucking ticket to Hawaii?”
“It’s natural to be upset, Luke, but trust me on this. Papillary thyroid cancer is one of the most curable of all cancers. And, after the treatment, there’s a 95-99% chance that it can be treated without recurrence.”
“Aren’t I the lucky one?”
The recent biopsy had confirmed his doctor’s suspicions, and he now needed surgery quickly to remove part of his thyroid. He’d then have to stay in the hospital for a few days, followed by home rest for a few more weeks, where he had to avoid strenuous activity. Later, he’d have to undergo more treatment, and would be left with a small scar on his neck.
Life was a bastard. Or a bitch. Didn’t matter, since it didn’t have a gender, but fuck. This news was shittier than shit.
Should he have felt grateful that he had ‘the best cancer’? Because returning home later that day, he surfed the internet, and read up for hours, soaking up everything he could find on it. Getting sucked up into the dark vortex of cancer survivor stories left him feeling scared shitless, and he went to bed feeling as if he’d been hit by a train.
Cancer was cancer, regardless of whether it was the best cancer or not, and this shock, this bolt straight out of the nowhere, hit him hard.
He was so numb that he couldn’t feel anything. He couldn’t think. One moment his mind was pre-occupied with Canal Street, and then next, he was making plans to visit Miami.
He called Marie and told her he would be working from home for a few days, and left it at that, while he moped around, trying to sort himself out.
How the fuck could he, a healthy twenty-seven year old who watched his diet, ate well, exercised and had always been well, how the fuck could he be diagnosed with cancer?
The best fucking cancer.
The day before his surgery, he returned to work, and told Marie.
She took the news well, especially when he told her not to tell anyone, not even the bar staff. He also didn’t want Kay to know.
He needed to get through this himself. No emotional baggage, no other person to rely on. While moping around at home a few days ago, he’d pulled out the jewelry box from his jacket pocket, realizing that he’d forgotten to give her the bracelet. The gift bag he’d handed her only had the lingerie.
