Page 197 of The Dixon Rule

“How can I not? Look at you!” I shout before taking a breath. My pulse is out of control.

“Come sit down.”

“No.”

“Shane.”

The helplessness lodged in my throat is suffocating. I’m seconds away from collapsing on the floor in tears. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t just submit to this. The second I accept it’s happening, then that makes it true.

But he’s pleading at me with his eyes. Those familiar hazel eyes. Without a word, I walk to the chair and sink into it. My whole body feels weak. I inhale the scent of antiseptic and battle the urge to throw up.

“I didn’t want to tell you and your sister because then you would have spent the rest of our time together feeling sad and fussing and making yourself miserable. That’s not how I wanted you to remember me. Hell, I wish you weren’t even here right now.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“That’s not what I mean. I mean…I wish it happened when I was asleep or something. Fast. Without warning. So I don’t have to lie here while you guys watch me die.” He twists his face away, and I see the curl of his lips. The anger. When he turns back, it’s with resignation. “I wanted to spare you the pain.”

“But you can’t. You can’t shield us from this.”

“I’ve shielded you your entire life. That’s what I do. I’m your dad. I try to make sure the bad stuff doesn’t reach you.”

A knife of pain twists into my heart. The bad stuff has reached us. My dad’s lying there with sunken eyes and tubes in his arms. Inoperable and untreatable.

Unsavable.

Dead.

Pain clouds his expression for a moment, and I watch him breathe through it. I can’t imagine what’s happening in his body right now as the cancerous cells ravage him from the inside out. And I’m angry again. Because he’s been fighting this valiant battle. He’s been fighting it all alone and didn’t ask me to fight beside him.

“These past six months have been so nice,” he tells me. “I got to see you win the Frozen Four in the spring. I got to see you fall in love with a good woman. I got to see you be happy. That’s really all I want.”

“If you’d told me—”

“Then what?” he challenges. “It would just have been a longer death sentence for both of us. You would’ve been feeling six months of agony as opposed to the few days you’ll suffer through now before this poison finally takes me from you.”

I almost choke on the lump in my throat.

“I didn’t say anything to you and Maryanne because I wanted her to enjoy her science camps and her school. I wanted you to enjoy hockey. I didn’t want either of you to worry. And I don’t want you to blame your mother or be upset with her after I’m gone because—”

“Stop talking like that,” I hiss out. “Stop it.”

I can’t see anymore. The sheen of tears has rendered me blind.

“No, I have to say this. And you have to hear it. I know you’ve had it easy so far in life. Your mom and I wanted that for you. We’ve tried to make things as easy as we could for you to be able to meet your dreams. Let you pursue hockey, make sure you don’t need to worry about rent or expenses, or struggle for anything. You still won’t have to worry about money, but you will struggle now because I’m going to be gone, and your mom and your sister are going to need you.”

“Stop it,” I mumble.

“No. I need you to promise me that you’ll always take care of them and you’ll always be there for them, especially Maryanne.”

I can’t breathe.

“Can we please stop talking like you’re about to die right this second? You’re not dying right now. Just let me absorb this.”

“No. Now is the time for me to say it.” He weakly raises one arm. “Before this morphine turns my brain into mush. I can think clearly right now, and I can see you clearly, and I want you to know I couldn’t be prouder of the man you’ve become. You are everything to me. You and your sister.”

His voice is finally starting to shake, and the tears now run freely down my face.

“Please stop saying this,” I beg.

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