Page 108 of The Affair
“I told you I needed some air.”
She took a step forward. “And so did I,” she said. “This just happens to be my favorite spot.”
I huffed, frustrated beyond belief.
“Can I sit with you?”
“Sure,” I answered. Even though I was frustrated, I couldn’t say no to her.
She was my mom.
We both sank to the sand, not bothering with blankets or chairs. It was chilly on the beach as the sun began to set, but I didn’t mind.
I always preferred the cold.
“Are you really dying?” I asked, my gaze set on the calming waves in the distance.
“That’s what the fancy doctor your brother sent me to seems to think.” She appeared oddly calm about the whole thing.
“So, that’s it?” I asked, turning toward her.
“I don’t know what else to do.”
Angered, I answered for her, “You fight, Mom. It’s what you should have done when you found out. What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t,” she admitted. “When the doctor called and told me the abnormal results of my mammogram, I was too stressed to take it seriously. I didn’t schedule the biopsy. I didn’t go back to the doctor. I just let it go. And now, it’s too late.”
“No,” I answered. “I refuse to believe that. It’s never too late.”
“The doctor your brother sent me to is very good, Elle. He said I missed my window.”
“So, we find a different doctor. And if that doesn’t work, we go see someone else after that. I will not sit around, waiting for another parent to die. I can’t do it.”
“This isn’t a problem that you’re going to be able to fix, sweetheart. It is what it is.”
“I refuse to believe that,” I said, my voice going hoarse. “I refuse to give up on you.”
“This is why I didn’t tell you.”
“Why? Because you preferred Jack’s method—to just sit around and wait for the inevitable?”
She breathed out, her eyes wet with moisture. “Because I knew this would become your obsession. I knew you wouldn’t be able to accept what is, and I wanted more for you.”
“So, the part about wanting me to move on with my life? Was that another lie?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. It’s all I want—to know you’re happy and your life is full of joy.”
“So, you can die happy?”
I knew I was being harsh, but I felt justified.
She’d lied to me. She’d lied to all of us, and it had quite literally cost us her life.
But maybe it doesn’t have to, I suddenly realized. I knew from my time taking care of my dad that there were miracle cases all over the world. We’d hoped for one back then.
Who said it couldn’t happen now?
“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” I began, feeling calmer than I had since the cancer bomb dropped. “We’re going to get you back into that doctor and demand he tell us every possible option—even if it doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of working. Then, we do it.”
