Page 78 of Sweet Temptation
“Thank you.” I press a quick kiss to his jaw. “I can’t give you any promises, Lucky. But I owe it to you and to us to try, and this is a big part of me trying.”
Oh my God. Why do I want to cry just admitting that?
“I think that’s really brave, Lex. You’re so fucking strong.” He fists my hair and tugs my head back to kiss me. And for a moment, everything else fades away. The fear. The anxiety. The sadness. It’s all gone, and all I see is Lucky.
I cough again and force myself to sit up. “I think I need a treatment. Sorry. I know, super sexy.”
“Baby, anything that makes you feel better is hot. You understand me?” He stands, completely naked, not having any idea how much harder he makes it to breathe. “Need me to grab you anything before I get a shower?”
I shake my head, not capable of words when I’m struck stupid with lust.
When the bathroom door closes, I manage to set my nebulizer up and cough through half the treatment. Shit. I hate when I get like this.
Less than a week later, I find myself in Dr. Fiore’s office, staring at her teeny, little sandpit and the ridiculous rake sitting beside it. Why do therapists always have things that are supposed to be calming but are really just ridiculous? Is it like a rule or something? Get a degree and a fancy fidget toy for the price of tuition?
Dr. Fiore sits down in a soft tan armchair across from me, her silver hair tied back in an elegant chignon and wearing a beautiful black skirt suit I’d love to own, if I had anywhere to wear it. She looks chic and capable and makes me somehow more nervous to be here.
“Alexis, it’s so nice to meet you.” She offers me her hand, and I lean forward awkwardly to shake it before scooching back on the sofa. “What brings you in today?”
I laugh. I can’t help it. Then laughing leads to coughing. Which leads to me cracking open a bottle of water. By the time I’ve calmed down, it feels like half my session is over. I hate therapists. But I keep reminding myself I need this. I need help.
“You work with my mother, Carys Sinclair. But don’t worry, I don’t want to talk about my mom. Just wanted you to know, I guess. I’m here because I have CF. Cystic Fibrosis. I don’t qualify for Trikafta. I’m allergic to something in the compound. My team has tried a few other things, but none of them worked. My lungs are still progressively getting worse. But none of this is new. I worked through my mortality and what it meant for me years ago.” I take another sip of water and watch Dr. Fiore type something into her tablet, wishing I could see what she’s writing.
“Anyhoo... I’ve accepted what it means for me. But I struggle with balancing that with what it means for the people Ilove, and the way that effects how I live my life.” If I’m supposed to feel lighter after admitting that, I must have done something wrong—because I feel worse. “Do you think you can help me?”
Her face softens, and she closes her tablet. “Yes, Alexis. I can help you.”
“And?” Mom asks from across the table at The Busy Bee, where we met for lunch after my appointment.
“I liked her. She fit me into her schedule for two appointments a week for the next four weeks, and we’re going to reevaluate then. I think it should be good.” I pop a french fry in my mouth and try to fight back my cough. “I’m hoping it helps.”
“I’m proud of you, Lexie. Don’t do what I did. Don’t push the people who care about you away and say it’s for them. Don’t make the same mistakes I made.” She slides her extra fries my way, then hands me the ketchup.
What is it about diner fries that makes them taste better, no matter where you are?
“But what if it isn’t a mistake? What if protecting them is a kindness?” I ask, knowing I’m trying to work through all this, but still not sure I’ll ever get over any of it.
“Lex, I wouldn’t trade the life I have with your father for anything in this world. Loving him gave me everything. My life. My kids. My happiness. I wouldn’t have any of that without him. But to have him, I had to get over my fears. I worry for you—that you’re falling into that trap too. And Lex, it’s so easy to fall into that one when you have a heart as big as yours.”
A rattling cough catches in my throat, and I excuse myself to the restroom, not wanting to hack in the middle of the diner. Once I can breathe again, I call my doctor and take the earliestappointment I can get next week and hang up, with strict instructions to go to the hospital if it gets worse.
I don’t mess with being sick, and I don’t ignore the signs.
If it gets worse, I’ll go. But for now, I’ll survive.
So long as I can get through the rest of lunch.
LUCKY
September might have come in hot and humid, but by the beginning of October, the cool crisp air has kicked summer’s ass right out of there. It’s also wreaking havoc on Lexie. She’s spent the majority of the past month on antibiotics without a whole lot of improvement. But she hasn’t gotten worse, so I’m grateful for that.
Whathasgotten better is us.
We’re stronger now than we were before.
Now when my girl talks about a future, that includes me.
She still insists she’s being unfair, but I usually just shut her up with a kiss. It’s better than telling her she’s being stupid. I learned the hard way that pisses her off.
