Page 55 of Riding the Edge

Pulling back, I touch my nose to his and stare into his curious eyes.

“The doctor found a mass on my breast,” I whisper.

At the revelation, his fingers squeeze my hips and the touch provides me with a physical sense of assurance.

You’re not alone.

“I had a biopsy this morning.”

He lifts his head and his lips brush my forehead.

You’re not alone.

“I might have cancer,” I croak.

With my voice merely an octave above a whisper, the tears that I thought had dried were back and fiercely falling from the corners of my eyes.

“Let it out, Lady. Let it out and lay it on me,” he murmurs.

You’re not alone.

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