She turned her head, her gaze steady and calm. "If the surgery goes perfectly, if
the prognosis is good and they manage to remove all the tumor and cancer cells,
and if I can walk away whole-that would be the best-case scenario. But the truth
is, no one can make that promise."
Given how far her illness had progressed, and the earlier miscarriage that forced
her into surgery, it was clear she''d been through more than anyone should have
to bear.
"Jarrod, you really don''t have to-"
"I reached out to some specialists in Europe," he interrupted, his voice low.
"They''re working together toe up with the best possible treatment n." He
turned away, grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl, and started peeling it with
careful, deliberate motions. He didn''t look at her, focusing instead on removing
every strand of pith from each segment. If you looked closely, though, his hands
were trembling ever so slightly.
He''d cut her off before she could finish.
Elodie stared at him, silent. She didn''t want to give him false hope-she wasn''t
even sure what to hope for herself. No matter how she looked at it, the road
ahead was bleak.
In the best-case scenario, the surgery would be a sess. She''d need regr
checkups, but her daily life and everything else would go back to normal. But
there was also the chance the operation would fail, thatplications would cut
her life short-to just two, maybe five years.
Or they''d have to remove her uterus entirely. She''d never have children of her
own.
Apart from the best oue, everything else was a burden Jarrod shouldn''t have
to carry.
She was just being realistic, she told herself. Jarrod wasn''t ready to face these
possibilities, not really. But with something as serious as this, dangling too much
hope was dangerous-for him and for her.
When Jarrod finished peeling the orange, he held out a segment to her lips. She
didn''t open her mouth, and he simply waited, hand suspended in the air, refusing
to withdraw.
It was as if they were locked in a silent standoff.
Atst, Elodie let out a slow breath.
"Jarrod, there''s a good chance you''ll
lose both your heart and your money
in this. I hate to admit it, but anyone
would see me as a burden right now.
Your mother was right about one
thing-right now, love feels like it can
conquer anything. But a few years
down the line things might not look
the same. I don''t want to end up in
that kind of one-sided situation, so I
think it''s best if we-"
"Are you really not willing to try with me?" he said, reaching out and gently
pressing the orange segment to her lips. "Why not wait twenty, thirty, even fifty
years and then ask me if I regret it?"
The tangy sweetness burst in her mouth as she finally epted the fruit. She
looked him straight in the eye, no pretense. "Is any part of this just pity, Jarrod?"
For the first time, Jarrod met her gaze head-on.
"I love you," he said, his voice rough
with emotion. His dark eyes were
rimmed with pain as he looked at
her pale, fragile face. He realized
that, in a way, he was sick
too, hurting so much from seeing
her like this that it threatened to
break him. Tears stung at the
corners of his eyes, beyond his
control.
Elodie''s breath caught in her throat.
Those three words rang out so clearly, so unexpectedly, that she forgot how to
respond.
"I love you, Elodie. Did you hear me?" he repeated.
Words he''d never managed to say before-words he''d always kept back because
of pride, or fear, or some foolish sense of awkwardness-finally came out without
a trace of hesitation.
He reached for her cold hand,
wrapping his warm fingers around it.
"If you don''t believe me, then let''s
just take our time. You can ask me
again and again, for as long as you
need, until you''re sure. But you have
to fight this, Elodie. Get better, get
healthy-otherwise, who am I
supposed to prove it to? Who else
can I say it to?"