Page 77 of Set on You

As I rub my eyes, planting both feet back on the ground, his figure lumbers into the waiting area. He’s smiling like he’s merely here for an annual physical. One would think that would mean good news, but I get the feeling he’s the type who would smile either way. To delay everyone’s pain for as long as humanly possible.

Grandma Flo nearly knocks the coffee table over as she rushes into his arms. “Is it cancer?”

He embraces her wholeheartedly before giving her a soft kiss on the forehead. Then he shakes his head, casting a triumphant smile at Mom, Tara, and me. “It’s benign. The tumor isn’t cancerous.”

The entire room changes color. It’s no longer lifeless, blue, and void of hope. It’s vibrant, sunny, and full of light. The space that was so stuffy and depressing just seconds ago is suddenly alive, fueled by everyone’s relief. We’ve been given a priceless gift. The gift of more time with someone we love.

It’s a good thing Martin has his arms around her, because Grandma Flo would have otherwise hit the floor, face drenched with a blend of what I imagine are happy tears and the painful memories of losing Grandpa.

The tightness in my stomach releases when I stand to hug Martin. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt more thankful for anything in my life. “I’m sorry, Crystal,” he says.

“For what?”

Martin pulls back regretfully, squeezing my shoulders. “It’s my fault... what happened with Scotty. Please don’t blame him. I asked him to lie and it was an unfair request. I see that now.”

“I appreciate that,” I say, letting out a massive sigh, just as Patricia and Scott come around the corner.

Scott is still in his same clothes from this morning, which are technically the same ones from yesterday. His wavy hair looks like it’s been brushed five different ways, and his eyes are bloodshot.

He stops a couple feet in front of me, as if unsure of what to do next. “You came.”

I wait a few beats before practically lunging at him like a flying squirrel, desperate to be back in his arms. Just like Martin did with Flo, Scott wraps his arms around me, tighter than he ever has before. His entire body seems to relax in our embrace.

After this ordeal, after our family was quite literally granted a second chance, I never want to let him go. I don’t care that we got into a massive fight. I don’t care about the hurt feelings. And I don’t care that we’re in the middle of a hospital waiting room full of onlookers.

“Of course I did. I’m so sorry for being so mad at you,” I whisper into his neck.

He glosses his thumbs over my cheeks, pressing his forehead to mine. “I never should have kept that from you. It killed me to do it.”

“Scott, it’s okay. I know.”

“I swear to you, I will never keep something like that from you ever again. I care about you so much—I don’t even know what to do with myself. I can’t lose you.” He tugs my hand, holding it to his chest. The steady drum of his heart vibrates against my palm. It’s the most raw and honest moment of my life.

I practically melt into him, because I believe himwholeheartedly. “You won’t. Ever,” I whisper, tracing my finger over his stubbled jaw.

His eyes flicker to my lips as he drops his forehead to mine again, tightening his muscly arms around my lower back, securing me to him. He lets out a long sigh as I run my hands over his shoulders, up his neck, and through his hair.

There’s a heaviness to his gaze, and it isn’t just lust. It’s overwhelming affection. The intensity of the moment steals my breath, rendering me putty in his arms. I want to capture this look and keep it forever.

I give him a small nod to continue, watching as the incredible relief washes over him before he drops his mouth and presses his soft lips to mine.

Everything goes silent. The beeps of the hospital machines, the urgent voices around us, and all the broken rules and worries of the past fade into obscurity in the background. All I can hear is the gush of blood flowing to my ears as we struggle to pull ourselves closer, tongues melding in a mixture of gentle and rough. There is no twister unleashing havoc, tearing my heart apart. Instead, he grounds me into a calm state of being. And it makes all the difference.

I pull back momentarily to drink in his gorgeous eyes. “Screw August sixth?”

He gives me a wicked smile. “Screw August sixth,” he repeats before capturing my mouth again.

chapter twenty-six

2:31 P.M.—INSTAGRAM POST: “SIZE POSITIVE CAMPAIGN—DEALING WITH THE HATERS” BYCURVYFITNESSCRYSTAL:

You guys! The response to Size Positive has been insane!! I’m SO glad this campaign has resonated with so many of you who are finding joy in ditching the scales and becoming more and more in tune with your bodies. QUEENS.

Unfortunately, people are still dicks. There has been an increase in assholes in the comments, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Here are a couple tips on how to deal with the haters:

1) Ignore them—It’s easier said than done. Sometimes I respond when I really feel it’s necessary to set someone straight. Butremember they’re just thirsting for attention. It’s best not to give them the satisfaction.

2) They have no bearing on your life—If you surround yourself with good people and a good support system, the comment of some idiot doesn’t matter in the long run.

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