At Any Moment (Gaming The System Book 3) (5 page)

She shook her head. “I’m not going to med school.”

I tensed, utterly frustrated now. “Stop this. You are giving up your dream, now? You are already letting cancer win.”

“I want to live. I’m not giving up.”

I took a breath and let it out slowly. There was no manipulating her here. If I even tried, this fragile door that we’d opened between us would be slammed shut and barred. I’d already learned that manipulating her to do what I wanted only made things worse. I’d fucked up badly in the past, but I wasn’t an imbecile—I at least learned from my mistakes.

I took her hand again. “I can’t pretend to understand what this is like for you. I only know what it’s like from the outside. But for God’s sake, there are so many of us who want the best for you. Who
need
you. Me, your mom, Heath, all your friends….”

Her head tilted down, the brim of her cap hiding her face.

“Mia,” I whispered. “I’m sorry that we can’t have everything. I wish to God we could. But we have to choose what’s most important here. For me, that’s you. For you, I hope that’s you, too.”

She put her free hand to her face and only nodded.

I got up from my side of the table and slid onto the bench next to her.

She melted into my side before I even put an arm around her. She felt limp, her posture relaxing immediately. I practically had to catch her against me to hold her up. She turned and pressed her face into my chest. My arms tightened around her.

I held her like this for long, long minutes. She had grabbed handfuls of my shirt and was hanging on for dear life. She didn’t move and I could hardly tell if she was breathing. And I would have given every last dime I had to know what was going on in her head. I was holding my breath, too, hoping she’d make the choice I needed her to make.

She turned her head to the side, laying her cheek against my collarbone. She wasn’t crying, but when she spoke, her voice trembled. “If I do this, I will regret it forever.”

“If you do this and live to regret it, put that burden on me. I’ll take that on my shoulders. They’re sturdy. They’ll take the weight.”

She sighed and I held her.

“I need time,” she whispered after an endless stretch of minutes.

“You don’t have much,” I reminded her.

“Please, Adam,” she said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

I opened my mouth, wanted to push her to make the decision now so that we could take action today, but I couldn’t. This had to come from her. And I was helpless, utterly helpless to take this into my hands.

“Whatever happens, whatever you decide…” My voice faded and I cleared my throat. “I love you.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to spend the day together or do you want to be alone?”

“Can we be together?”

I held her, bent to kiss her face. “Of course.”

I had no idea what tomorrow would bring. I had no idea if this pain would eventually split us up for good but for now, today, she wanted us to be together and I wanted it, too.

And maybe, just maybe, we could make some enjoyable memories where I could forget this cloud of doom hanging over us and be in the moment, be with her, be in love.

Chapter Five
Mia

We spent New Year’s Eve in Adam’s audiovisual room—his private little movie theater. We watched the
Doctor Who
Christmas special almost a week late. Then we binged on reruns of
Battlestar Galactica
, pretending that that horrid last episode didn’t exist. So we spent an hour making up our own stories for what happened to the characters instead of them landing on a primeval earth forty thousand years in the past and deciding to die out as dirt farmers and cavemen.

When I dozed off in my recliner, Adam carried me up two flights of stairs to his room and laid me gently on the bed. By the time we got there, I was partially awake again.

“Is it after midnight?” I asked in a groggy voice.

“It’s twelve fifteen.”

“Hmm. It’s a new year.”

The bed dipped as Adam sank beside me. “Yes,” he said, smoothing my hair back from my face.

He cleared his throat. “You want to sleep in your clothes?”

“Can I have a T-shirt?”

He got up and pulled one out of a drawer, at the same time grabbing one for himself and some pajama bottoms. I watched as he undressed, his beautiful body outlined in the dim, silvery moonlight that poured in through the windows. His chest and hard abs were a sight to behold—one that I’d missed. My throat tightened and suddenly I was very awake and aching to have him close to me. I might have been sick and pregnant, but I wasn’t dead. Not yet, anyway.

Once dressed, he came around to my side of the bed and I rolled on my back. He reached down and unbuttoned my jeans for me. Was he going to undress me? Oh, that was too much, but I didn’t move. I relished the feel of his hands on me. The last time—well—better not to think about the last time, right? We’d both been drunk off our asses and it had led to disaster.

But again, I wasn’t dead and I still wanted him so much it hurt. He had the waistband of my jeans in his hands, ready to tug them down my legs. “Lift up,” he murmured.

So I did, like a helpless child, and shivered as the denim slipped over my legs, exposing them to him. Adam liked my legs a lot. I knew he did. But in the dim light I couldn’t tell where his eyes were or whether he was looking at them. Maybe he was too focused on the task at hand?

I sat up to pull off my shirt. “Can you look away, please?” I whispered.

He didn’t say anything, just froze. I cleared my throat to explain myself. “It’s—I’m sorry. I feel ugly there.”

I hated the thought of him seeing my disfigurement, of his possible disgust at my scars, at the tiny black dots that had been tattooed on me to mark the spots that needed radiation therapy. Of the long, angry and still pink-red scar down the left side of my breast, where it puckered around missing breast tissue.

He raised a hand to my face, smoothed my cheek. “There’s no way in this world you could ever be ugly. You’ve never been anything but beautiful to me.”

His words made me ache even more but before I could reply, he shifted on the bed and turned away. I didn’t say anything but hurriedly pulled off my shirt and bra and slipped on his big T-shirt to sleep in. Before he could turn back, I clamped my arms around his neck and kissed his rough cheek.

I really loved the sandpapery feel of his cheeks when he kissed me at night or early in the morning before shaving. After making love, I felt tender everywhere that he’d kissed me, and I savored the slightly sore reminder that he and his scruff had been there.

I wanted to be able to turn everything off, the constant ache inside, the thoughts that threatened to drive me insane. I wanted to feel…him, his hands, his kisses all over me. But when he turned and kissed my lips, his mouth stayed closed, despite my best efforts. I sank back against the bed, pulling him with me. “I need you,” I said. There may have been more than a little pleading in my voice.

Instead of lying on top of me, he slipped beside me, still kissing me, pulling his mouth away from mine to pepper my jaw and neck with kisses. I felt his desire stir against my leg but there wasn’t any passion in the way he kissed me. It was more…affectionate.

“Please?” I asked.

He didn’t reply immediately, but he stopped kissing me, pulling me tight against him. He was hard, so I knew his body wanted it, but apparently his mind didn’t agree.

“I’m tired…” he began. But I knew that wasn’t the reason. I knew Adam and he rarely, scratch that,
never
passed up the chance for sex—at least in the few short months that we’d been together as a healthy couple.

“You’re still angry with me,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

He hesitated. “No.”

“Then…?”

“It’s too soon. It’s—I’m sorry, but I can’t stop worrying about you, in this condition…”

I nodded, unable to explain or even understand myself this hurt that rose up like prickles in the back of my throat.

He seemed to sense it. “Mia, I want you. I do. But we shouldn’t do anything tonight.”

It was hard to explain the bitterness that drowned out the hurt. Maybe the timing was wrong. Maybe everything was completely uncertain…

But he wasn’t being honest with me. He was angry, resentful. I needed him but that didn’t matter to him. I took a deep breath and his hands were gentle on me, guided me to rest against him.

I reminded myself that he needed time, too. That mind of his, it was always going, and likely he wouldn’t rest easy until something was settled between us…one way or the other.

We had no idea what our future would be even two days from now. But in his arms, I’d always felt beautiful, like the most important, desired and gorgeous woman in the world. The center of his universe.

I laid my head against his shoulder and his arms came around me. I wanted things to go back to the way they’d been, before we were broken.

I wanted it more than anything else.

But that would never happen, would it? Our normal, those few short months of happiness, were now wrecked forever.

I pressed my cheek to the center of his chest and fell asleep, lulled by the rhythm of his heartbeat.

***

When I woke up, bright light was pouring through the windows and the bed was empty beside me. I could hear the shower going so I lay flat on my back and looked up at the canted wooden ceiling. I’d been agonizing over a life-changing decision. One that I knew I wasn’t grown-up enough to make.

My birth certificate might have stated that I was twenty-two years old but inside I still felt like a girl, immature, scared. Afraid to come out of her shell, open herself up, take a risk. Deep down I was that girl inside the body of a woman. Everyone around me seemed so much more together, so much more in touch with who they were as adults. Especially Adam.

He might not always have been right, but he was always certain of what he wanted and what he did. I closed my eyes, feeling a stab of pain as I thought about him.

Without realizing it, my hands went down to my belly, resting atop my womb. I had his child inside me. Until five days ago, I hadn’t even known it existed or that I wanted it. But now that I did I wanted it more than anything—maybe even my own life. But how could I tell him that? Or my mom or anyone else?

And how could I want this more than my own life? I was a scientist. This life form was not viable and soon my body would not be a hospitable place for its own systems, let alone a completely dependent one. This option made absolutely no sense to my biologist’s brain. My scientific mind knew that it wasn’t a baby yet. It knew that one in four early pregnancies spontaneously aborted on its own—oftentimes before the woman even knew that it existed.

The same could happen to me. I couldn’t make this decision lightly, but was it my decision alone to make?

As a feminist, I strongly believed in a woman’s right to choose. Every woman deserved to determine what happened to her body. I’d fight for the right for a woman to choose and I’d never, ever dictate what that choice must be for anyone else. It was a thing so personal, so dependent on circumstance. And what I faced—was it really a choice at all?

That was what rankled me most of all, what left me nearly breathless with helplessness. I was being robbed of my choice.

Because my life wasn’t
just
about me. It was about all those who loved me—Adam, my mom, my friends. It was about my future, all the years I still had before me to live for myself, for them.

Anger and bitterness stung the backs of my eyes. I’d make this choice for them, because I loved them and I wanted to live for them. But it wasn’t fair. It was
so
not fair. In order to save my own life, I had to destroy that tiny life inside of me before it ever had a chance.

When Adam came out of the bathroom, one towel around his waist and another around his shoulders to towel his hair dry, he found me like that. Lying flat on my back, both hands on my stomach. His expression blank, his dark eyes zeroed in on my hands, narrowing slightly before he turned away. He’d easily deduced what was going through my mind. It wouldn’t have been hard.

It had been going through both of our minds constantly for the past few days.

I sat up, staring out the window as he dressed. When he was done, he came and sat beside me on the bed.

“Hi,” he said.

“Good morning.”

“Want some breakfast?”

I shook my head.

“Not even a little tea or dry toast?”

I shook my head harder.

“You’re green.”

I nodded.

“You’re also not talking.”

We held each other’s gaze. My heart leapt into my throat. He felt distant from me, guarded. I wanted him so damn much. I wanted to stay here and be with him. I wanted his love. It felt less accessible now than ever before. Like a distant dream I never had any hope of attaining.

And what I wanted more than anything was to live. For him. For my mom. For my friends. I’d find a way to live with myself later.

“I’ll do it,” I finally croaked.

His brows drew together. “What?”

“The termination. I’ll do it.”

Adam looked like he was about to fall over in relief. For long minutes, he didn’t move, didn’t smile, didn’t breathe, just watched me.

“Tomorrow?” he asked.

I nodded.

He sighed. “Okay.”

I felt cold inside. Numb. Why should I feel guilty for trying to save my own life? I couldn’t answer that question. Part of me wanted to shrivel up and die right there. Part of me, a larger part, was gearing up for the epic battle ahead.

“I need you,” I said. “I need your help.”

He put his hand to my face, cupped my cheek. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.” I fell against him and he pulled me to him. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the part of me that was curled up and rocking in the corner, already wanting to weep with the loss we were about to face.

Chapter Six
Adam

Emilia spent the rest of New Year’s Day in her room at Heath’s after I dropped her off. Connor, Heath’s new boyfriend, was there and they were on the couch watching
Sherlock
. I stayed for a few minutes to trade pleasantries with them. Things between Heath and me were still tense. I was pissed at him for helping Emilia keep her secrets. He was pissed at me for getting her pregnant.