Page 76 of Set on You

And then the realization hits me. “This is why you were suddenly adamant that we take things slow. Isn’t it?”

He nods. “I couldn’t move forward knowing I was hiding that from you. That’s why Martin told me to cool it with you. Until we knew for sure.”

“But why did you keep this from me? Does Flo know?” I demand.

He shakes his head. “No. He doesn’t want her to worry for nothing. That’s why I couldn’t tell you. He made me swear I wouldn’t.”

The anger bubbles into my throat like bile. My family would never keep secrets like this. We’d get through it together, just as we did with Grandpa the moment we found out his diagnosis. “Because you didn’t trust me to keep a secret?” Realistically, I know for a fact I never could have kept that from my family. But I’m furious nonetheless.

He dips his chin in regret. “I couldn’t ask you to keep such a huge secret from Flo. I knew that would destroy you.”

My mind spins at the thought of Grandma Flo’s face when she finds out. I hold my hand out in front of me, preventing him fromcoming closer. I can’t even look at him right now. “Scott, please leave.”

His face twists, pained. “I wanted to tell you so badly. I told my grandpa this wasn’t right and that he needed to tell Flo today. Before I bring him to the specialist—”

I hold my hand out to signal him to stop. “Please. I need space right now.” As much as I want to hold him and take away all his hurt, all I can think about is Grandma Flo and how devastated she’s going to be. I need to be there for her, right now.

Scott nods, taking one last dejected look at me before he opens the front door. “I’m so sorry, Crys.”

chapter twenty-five

WE’RE ON THEwaythere,” I tell Grandma.

The moment Scott left, Tara bolted down the stairs in tears after overhearing my confrontation with Scott. She and I contemplated going to Grandma Flo’s house immediately, but decided against it, in case Martin hadn’t told her yet. Luckily, Grandma called not long after to inform us she was going to the hospital to await the results.

While Tara and I are both angry about being kept in the dark, our feelings hardly seem to matter, given the circumstances. As badly as Martin handled the situation, his obnoxious, loud self has grown on me immensely in the past two months.

He and Scott are so much alike in some ways, it’s almost creepy. At family gatherings, they’re the last to take food, waiting for everyone else to serve themselves first. They’re both thoughtful,remembering small, seemingly innocuous details about everyone’s lives. They’ll both go to any lengths to protect their families, even if it means keeping secrets. The very thought of losing Martin, however strange and new he may be to the family, is something I can’t entertain in my head for longer than a fraction of a second without being overcome with dread.

Driving to the hospital, finding a parking spot, and locating them on the correct floor is a complicated, blurry endeavor. But I know we’re in the right place when I nearly collide with Grandma Flo and Mom as I enter a waiting area.

There are massive purple bags under Grandma’s weepy eyes. She’s slouched, pale, and overall worn. It reminds me of the long, difficult months when Grandpa was going through chemotherapy. She barely ate or slept. I’m pretty sure the awful experience prematurely aged her by years. It’s beyond cruel that she may have to go through this all over again.

“Patricia and Scotty are in the doctor’s office with him now,” Grandma says as Tara sorrowfully embraces her.

“How are you doing?” I ask as a group of nurses rushes past down the white, sterile hallway.

“Alright.” Her eyes are teary as she motions for us to sit in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Like most hospitals, it smells faintly of body odor and disinfectant. It’s relatively quiet on this floor, save for random distant beeping, hushed chatter, and the little girl giggling on her mom’s lap a couple chairs over.

“When did he tell you?” Tara asks as we take our seats.

“He came by earlier this morning and told me over coffee,” she says neutrally, making it difficult to determine how she’s feeling about it.

I give her a sympathetic gaze. “Are you mad he didn’t tell you until today?”

“I am. We’re meant to get married next month, move in together.” Grandma’s lips tighten as she fidgets with her gold charm bracelet. “But then I think, what’s the point? I don’t have time to be angry about stuff like this at my age. He had the best of intentions, even if he was wrong.”

I take in her words as the realization washes over me—Scott’s had to carry this burden for nearly two weeks. No wonder he’s been moody and distant. It isn’t his fault Martin asked him to lie on his behalf, wrong as it was. He was in an impossible position, forced to choose between his family and his new relationship. Had I been in the very same situation with Grandma Flo, I realistically would have made the same choice: family.

I cross and uncross my legs a million times as the minutes pass, eyes focused mindlessly on the local news reel on the TV. I’m barely digesting anything, because nothing else seems to matter right now.

Grandma and Mom are in and out of their seats, trying to busy themselves by pacing the hallway. Tara is reading quietly on her Kindle. I wonder if she’s even processing any words. From the way her knee is bouncing up and down, she appears as anxious as I am.

After over an hour, the fatigue from last night with Scott, combined with the emotional roller coaster that was this morning, finally begins to sink in. Despite the lack of comfortable seating, I fold my legs over the arm of the chair and manage to close my eyes.

•••

“YOU LOT LOOKlike you’re at a funeral.” Martin’s familiar, boisterous voice snaps me out of sleep.

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