Shattered: An Extreme Risk Novel (37 page)

He’s right.

He’s totally right.

I do love Tansy. I will be devastated if something happens to her, even if I’m not with her. I should be with her, in case she needs me. And because I really, really need her. And hiding here, embarrassed to face her because I was an asshole, isn’t helping either one of us.

I yank my phone out of my pocket, dial Z, who answers on the first ring. “Hey, man, I know we just got home, but—”

“Ophelia and I are on our way.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“You better be asking for us to come hang with Logan while you go find Tansy, in which case we need to come over. And if you’re not, we’re coming over anyway, because I’m going to kick your ass and then you’re going to go see Tansy. Either way, it works.”

“Good thing I’m calling to ask you to hang with Logan, then, huh?”

“Damn good thing.” His voice is rife with satisfaction. “Tansy is at Huntsman Cancer Institute. Ophelia and I’ve already sent flowers.”

“Thanks, man.” I get a little choked up at that. I should have done it, but since I didn’t, it’s good to have a best friend who knows me well enough to take up the slack. “I’ll see you in twenty minutes?”

“You’ll see me in two. We just pulled into your driveway.”

With that, he hangs up and I’m left to wonder what the fuck I ever did to deserve the friends and family that I’ve got.

I’m still in remission.

It’s not cancer.

I don’t have cancer. I don’t have cancer.
I don’t have cancer
.

Relief swamps me, has me wrapping my arms around myself as I curl into a ball and just breathe. Just breathe.

“Oh, thank God!” my mom exclaims, tears in her voice and rolling slowly down her face. “Did you hear that, Tansy? You’re fine. You’re fine!”

I nod, but I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I could trust my voice anyway.

“What is it, then?” my father asks. “What’s causing the fever?”

The doctor smiles. “Actually, a rather harmless virus is to blame. It’s called roseola, and is part of the measles family. She’ll run a fever for a couple days and then she’ll break out in a noncontagious rash that will last about forty-eight hours and then she’ll be fine.”

“Roseola?” my mom repeats, sounding baffled.

“It’s one of those viruses that usually get passed around by children. You can get it more than once, but it’s rare. Usually kids build up immunity to it, but I don’t see any record of Tansy ever having it, so …” He shrugs eloquently.

Just a virus. Not cancer. Not rhabdomyosarcoma. Not cancer. I’m going to live.

The doctor says a few more things, says he’ll be discharging me today, but I stop listening. He’s told me everything important, everything I need to know. The rest is just extra.

As he finishes up, there’s a knock on the door. Figuring it’s Anna or Topher, I call for them to come in. Then freeze as Ash appears in the doorway, his face sheepish and his right hand shoved deep into his pocket.

My mom looks from him to me, her already huge smile somehow getting even huger. “Hi, Ash,” she tells him. “Come on in. The doctor was just leaving.”

Ash nods, takes a few more tentative steps into the room. He looks like he’s about to face the firing squad—or like he expects me to launch whatever’s closest straight at his head. But I’m not angry at him at all. I’m angry at fate for putting two such ill-fitted people together, but I’m not mad at him. How could I be when he’s already suffered so much.

Behind him, my mom makes some ridiculous excuse to follow the doctor out of the room. She drags my dad with her, who looks a lot more reluctant to leave his daughter alone with a guy who looks like Ash. I want to assure him that it’s okay, that Ash is a good guy, but to be honest, my voice has pretty much stopped working. Whether from the news that I’m perfectly healthy or from Ash’s sudden appearance, I don’t know.

The door closes behind my parents and I swing my legs out of bed, so that I’m at least sitting up. Whatever this conversation is going to be about, I already feel completely vulnerable. The last thing I need is to be stuck in the bed like some kind of invalid, too.

“What are you doing, Tansy?” Ash demands, rushing the last few feet to my side. “Get back in bed.”

“I’m fine, Ash. Sitting up isn’t going to hurt anything.”

He looks like he wants to argue, but he bites the words down. Which is a little surprising, really. Nice, but surprising.

“How are you feeling?” he asks after a minute.

“I feel fine. Just this stupid fever which should be gone soon.”

“Good.” He holds out his left hand, which—I notice for the first time—has a bouquet of flowers in it. Bright red and deep purple, they are absolutely beautiful and I can’t help the appreciative sound I make when I reach for them.

“They’re beautiful.”

He smiles a little. “They reminded me of you.” He gestures to my hair.

“Oh, right. Because of the dye.”

“Yeah.”

Ugh. Could this conversation get any more uncomfortable? How, in the space of less than forty-eight hours, could we have gone from laughing and joking in each other’s arms to treating each other like total strangers? Worse than strangers, actually, because at least strangers would be able to make polite small talk.

Suddenly, I can’t take it anymore. Can’t stand the uncomfortable weight of the air between us, can’t stand the awkward way Ash is looking at me. Can’t stand the fist gripping my insides like it’s just waiting for the chance to crush my heart all over again.

“Come here, Ash.” I hold a hand out to him, wait for him to put his hand in mine before I pull him down next to me on the bed. “We were friends first, right? So this shouldn’t be so awkward.”

He closes his eyes for a second, a rueful smile on his face. Then he leans over and presses his lips to the top of my head. For a second, I think about what a mess my hair must be, but then I decide, fuck it. I don’t have cancer and I get to keep my hair for a while longer at least. I’m going to celebrate that and forget about the rest.

“Trust you to go easy on me, Tansy.”

“Why should I do otherwise?” I look at him, baffled. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He makes a low, choked sound of disagreement. “I did everything wrong, actually.”

“No. Ash, I wouldn’t ask anyone to deal with—”

“I love you, Tansy.”

Of all the words he could have said, those four are the ones I least expected to hear. “Oh, God. Don’t tell me that, Ash.”

“I do. I know I was a total douche. I know I walked away from you when you needed me most and I’m sorry about that. I’m so sorry. But I love you and I don’t want to live without you. Even if you’re sick, even if I can’t have you for long, I want you, Tansy. I want you for as long as I can have you.”

“No, Ash. No, don’t say that.”

“Why not?” He gets on his knees in front of me, clasps my hands in his, being careful not to squeeze my IV. “It’s the truth. I love you. Nothing else matters.”

“Ash.” Tears are pouring down my face and I go to wipe them away, but Ash beats me to it. His hand cups my jaw while his thumb tenderly wipes at the tears. “Damn it. I never used to cry before I met you.”

“I’m sorry. Let me back in, let me love you, and I promise I won’t make you cry anymore.”

That’s all it takes to have me breaking into sobs. “No. You don’t understand. I’m not sick now—”

“You’re not?”

“No. The doctor says I’m fine. Just a virus.”

“Oh my God, Tansy, that’s amazing!” He leans forward and kisses me before I can stop him. I try to push him away, but I can’t. He feels so good. He feels like safety, like comfort, like Ash. But that’s the problem. He can be all that for me, but I can’t ever be it for him.

It’s that knowledge that gives me the strength to push him away. “You don’t understand. I’m not sick now, but that could change at any time. I could get sick again in six months or a year or five years. I’m never going to be free of this disease, not really. Not the way I need to be if I’m going to love you.”

“If
you’re going to love me?” Ash asks. He’s staring at me with those blue eyes of his, the ones that look right through to the heart of me.

“All right, I do love you. But that doesn’t matter. It can’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” he tells me. “It’s the only thing that matters.”

“Do you think this is a fairy tale? Do you think everything is going to turn out all right in the end?”

“Actually, I already think it has. I love you. You love me. You’re not sick. What else is there to worry about?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I’m not sick now. I’m not sick yet. But that doesn’t mean in the future—”

“Fuck the future.”

Okay, if anything could shock me more than the I love you he just dropped, it’s those three words. Ash, the man with the plan? The guy who is always thinking ten steps ahead, just said fuck the future? What the hell?

I reach out, run a hand over his forehead. “Are you running a fever?”

He laughs. “No.”

“Are you sure? Ash—”

“Tansy, I had my whole future mapped out. I knew what I was going to be doing and where I was going to be doing it for years to come. And fate came along and basically gave me a big, giant fuck you. And you know what, it was rough. I’m not going to lie. Some days, it’s still rough. But if my parents’ deaths taught me anything, it’s that you never know when or how things are going to end, so you might as well grab on to happiness when you find it.”

“But you—”

He puts his fingers to my mouth, silences me when I try to make another argument. “You make me happy, Tansy. You make me so fucking happy I can barely see straight. The only question is, do I make you happy in the same way?”

I should tell him no. I know I should. The word even trembles on my lips. Because this is Ash, and I love him and I want, so desperately, for him to be happy. After everything he’s been through, he deserves that. He deserves more than that.

But when I go to say the word, I can’t get it out. I can’t lie to him and tell him that he doesn’t make me happy when those last few days in Chile were the happiest of my life. By far. I can’t hurt him like that, even if it means sparing him more hurt later. That probably makes me selfish, but right now—when he’s holding me like I’m the most precious thing in the world, when he’s looking at me with all the love I never dreamed I’d see in his eyes—I just can’t bring myself to care.

“You do,” I tell him. “You make me so happy.”

“Oh, thank God.” He cups my face in his hands, rests his forehead against mine. “I thought you were going to torture me a little more.”

I shake my head. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt him, in any way. Which is why I force myself to say, “I love you, Ash. I love you so, so much. But you need to know—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” I clear my throat, start again. “You need to know that I can’t give you
security. I can’t give you promises of a happily ever after. I can’t give you anything, really, except for me, loving you, right now. That’s all I’ve got. Maybe all I’ll ever have to give you.”

“It’s enough.” He kisses me, hard, powerful kisses that hurt my lips and make me long for more. Make me long for everything. “Didn’t you hear what I said, Tansy? I’d rather have whatever time with you that I can—six months, a year, five years—than to live without you before I have to. Whatever time you have, I want. The good, the bad. The healthy, the sick. The hipster or the debutante. I want it all, baby. I want it all.”

“Oh, God, Ash. Oh, God.” I fling myself into his arms, wrap myself around him as tightly as I can.

“What is it, baby? What do you need?” He holds me tight, his strong arms around my shoulders and waist the most comforting thing I’ve ever felt.

“I need you,” I tell him as I press frantic kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his mouth. “I just need you.”

“Well, you’ve got me, so I guess that’s good.” His lips find mine in a real kiss, and as the love and desire, the tenderness and the need, pull me under, I know that for now—forever—that’s more than enough.

“You ready?” Ash demands, and I glance up at him, more nervous than I’ve been in a long time.

“Uh, yeah. I was born ready.” Still, I can’t help feeling a little bit of trepidation as I reach for my gloves. Which is perfectly reasonable, I think, considering the circumstances. Not that Ash agrees. He’s looking at me like I’m deliberately dragging my feet on this—which, if I’m honest, I might be. Just a little bit.

“So, I was thinking we could try one of the kiddie runs,” I tell him with a sheepish smile. “Just to get in the mood.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Seriously, Tansy? Are you like ninety?”

I reach out, snatch the hat from his head. “No, I’m not ninety, but we’re not all born boarders, you know. Some of us need a little practice before we can, oh I don’t know, stand up on a snowboard let alone take it down the side of the mountain …”

“You’ll do great,” Ash tells me, gathering me against his side. “I’ll be right there with you.”

I snort. “Considering the fact that you and Logan have turned into the biggest daredevils on the powder, that doesn’t exactly reassure me.”

This time, Ash is the one to roll his eyes. “Move it,” he tells me, dropping a quick kiss on my lips. “Or I’ll leave you here and Logan and I will spend the day on the slopes, alone.”

“Okay. Okay.” I give my jacket an extra pat, just to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything. I haven’t. “I’m ready.”

“Sick!” Logan crows from his position near the door. “Here we go.”

As we pile out to the car, I can’t help being grateful—for everything. It’s been five months since Chile, and we’re back home in Park City now. Though it hasn’t been an easy ride—Ash is way too protective for our relationship to go super smoothly—it’s been a fun one. With Logan and Ash in my life, every day is an adventure. An adventure, that so far, anyway, is cancer free.

I just had my six-month checkup and everything looks great. No cancer. No sign of cancer. No sign that anything is wrong at all. This trip to the resort is my reward. Ash promised me if the doctor gave me a clean bill of health, he would take me snowboarding with him and Logan. Clean bill of health achieved, and here we are.