Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
I can’t fucking breathe.
Zoey nods, her lips wobbling as she tries to hold herself together. “I asked Mom and Dad to take me for testing with Dr. Sanchez,” she tells me in a small voice. “It could have been a number of things, but something in my gut . . . I don’t know. I was almost due for tests anyway, so we asked for them to be brought forward—”
Her out-of-control tears swallow her words again. “What are you saying, Zo?” I question, tears now welling in my eyes, already knowing what she’s about to tell me, but I need to hear it from her lips to confirm the worst.
“I relapsed, Noah,” she says, her voice breaking on a sob and crumbling into me as my world fades back to darkness. “I got my test results back on Wednesday night. My leukemia is back.”
“No,” I breathe, gripping her tightly with quivering hands. I can’t seem to wrap my head around the magnitude of this, the idea of Zoey being sick again, having to go through all that pain and suffering when she’s already had to fight this battle once before. “No. No. There has to be a mistake. You’re perfect, Zo. There has to be another reason for this. You can’t be sick again. I can’t fucking lose you.”
“We’ve spent the last two days running tests,” she finally says, her hands framing my face as she holds my gaze. Hot tears fall from her jaw and soak into the front of my shirt. “I’m sure, Noah. We’ve ruled everything else out.”
Fuck.
I hold on to her, not knowing what to say as everything good in my life crumbles. She’s only seventeen. She’s not supposed to have cancer. She’s supposed to fly. She’s supposed to graduate high school and prepare to take on the whole fucking world, not spend her days in agony as her body attempts to kill her from the inside out.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I didn’t want to worry you unless I was positive.”
I shake my head, hearing her words but unable to take any of it in.
She relapsed.
My heart races and my chest heaves as I gasp for air, but I can’t seem to take a proper breath. My mind whirls with what this means for her. For us.
Chemotherapy. Tests. Pain. Hospitals.
Zoey searches my face, terror in her eyes. “Noah, are you—”
I take her hips and lift her off me before falling out of the car into the pouring rain. Panic surges through me like fire, and when the cold rain hits my skin, my thoughts explode. How could this be happening to her again? How the hell is this fair? Is this punishment for the three years of hell I put her through? Is this the universe’s cruel way of trying to take her away from me?
“Noah,” I hear Zoey calling behind me, but I race out in front of the car, into the glow of the headlights, and drop to my knees at the mere thought of the hell she’s about to endure.
Fuck. I can’t lose her. I can’t fucking lose her.
I crumble against the road, banging my fists against the asphalt, barely able to keep myself up as I scream out, the agony tearing at my chest, tears falling from my eyes and mixing with the rain that pours over me.
“Noah,” Zoey calls as I hear the sound of the car door closing, and then she’s there, dropping to her knees before me and pushing me up. She barrels into me, throwing her arms around me and holding me with everything she’s got. “We’re going to be okay,” she vows as I lock my arms around her and pull her into my lap, burying my face into the curve of her neck, terrified to let go.
“I can’t fucking lose you,” I tell her, the despair eating me alive. “I don’t know how to be without you, Zo. I can’t breathe when you’re not with me.”
“You’re not losing me,” she promises, her fingers knotting into my hair. “I’m not going anywhere. I’ve beaten this before. I can do it again.”
“Zo,” I breathe, not knowing what else I can say. I haven’t felt this helpless since the day my brother died in my arms in the middle of the street. Images of his pallid face and the blood pooling in the corners of his mouth swim before me, and I have to keep telling myself that Zo isn’t Linc. The feeling of her trembling body against mine is as real as the cold rain soaking through my clothes and the bite of the asphalt beneath my knees. I repeat in my mind over and over again, She’s here. She’s alive, as I hold her tighter.
“We’re going to be alright,” she promises as we kneel in the deserted road. “We’re going to get through this and start the rest of our lives together. It’s nothing but a stepping stone. I’ve got you right here holding my hand, and because of that, I know I can make it through this. Nothing’s going to keep me from starting a life with you. We’ve already fought through hell to get here. We can do it one more time.”