Page 13 of Back in the Saddle

‘Dad, don’t worry. We’re almost there. Now, are you really worried about the time or about the visit in general?’

Alan brushed his son’s hand away and pointedly turned his head to look out of the Ford F-150’s window. When he spoke, his voice was small. ‘I know that I don’t have much time left. But this clinical trial gives me a sense of purpose, you know? That even if I don’t make it, maybe thanks to me and people like me, others in the future will have a better chance.’

Tears welled in Hunter’s eyes. His knuckles whitened on the wheel.

It wasn’t often that his father spoke about his feelings about his prognosis or dying. Usually, he put on a brave face and brushed off everyone’s concerns. Right now, he was probably the most vulnerable Hunter had seen him since they were told his cancer was back.

‘Dad, don’t say that. It’s not over yet. I thought that you’d been feeling better?’

‘I’ve been feeling pretty much the same, which isn’t bad. But the doc told me at the last visit that I might feel all right until one day I don’t anymore. I’m thankful that this treatment doesn’t seem to have many side effects though. And that Ican eat real food, unlike last time.’ Alan pushed his glasses up his nose.

Hunter bit his lip. This clinical trial was Alan’s only option. He’d exhausted all other lines of treatment. He was tired and Hunter couldn’t blame him. Most days, it felt like waiting for a miracle, even though no one in the family spoke about it that way. They all tried to stay optimistic, at least as a front.

‘It’ll be OK, Dad.’

‘Yeah … I guess it will be, one way or another.’ Alan cleared his throat. ‘Turn right up here.’

Hunter pursed his lips, holding back from saying he knew. Rouken Cancer Center featured in his nightmares. It was a massive hospital, with a medical school attached to it. All six floors of gleaming white and glass. There was a separate research wing with laboratories and whatnot. Alan had received his care here from the very start of his treatment, which meant that when he enrolled onto a clinical trial, he didn’t have to change the doctors or the hospitals. Everything stayed the same. They even recognised the nurses and porters now.

Hunter swallowed as he put the truck in the underground car park.

In. Out. In …

He counted his breaths to ten, preparing himself to be there for Alan without the gloom of his own stress hanging over them. Then, he helped his father out of the car and lent him his arm to steady him as they walked up to the entrance.

They made it with enough time to spend a quarter of an hour sitting on the uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area. Instead of inviting them both into her office, Alan’s oncologist, Dr Anna Kennedy, came out and said that they had to run some tests today, including an MRI scan of his brain to checkif the cancer had spread. Alan also needed to have a full blood workup. Before she had even finished speaking, a nurse appeared seemingly out of nowhere with a wheelchair.

‘I’ll wait around, Dad. Might grab something to eat in the cafeteria.’ Hunter leaned into his father’s thin frame and warmly squeezed his arm.

Alan just nodded and the nurse started pushing the wheelchair down the hallway.

Hunter slumped back into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Trying to keep it together in front of his father was hard. The injustice and hurt of it all was always waiting just round the corner of his mind, ready to overtake his mood completely as soon as he was alone.

‘Damn it, damn it!’ he muttered angrily as he got up. ‘Damn it!’

He might as well go to the cafeteria. It’d be a distraction, at least for a little while. As soon as he turned around, he felt a sharp pain in his chest as he collided with something hard.Someone. A cell phone and a stack of papers clattered to the floor. The person who walked into him bent down, hurriedly gathering them into their arms. Hunter crouched and mechanically started picking up printed sheets of paper as well as blue folders.

‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry. Are you OK?’ a female voice asked.

They stood up and looked at each other. Hunter’s entire body froze.

He recognised those eyes.

CHAPTER SIX

Caroline

Caroline toppled backwards from the force of the impact. She dropped a stack of folders, loose pieces of paper escaping and scattering to the floor. Forgetting all the manners and professional behaviour, she blurted out, ‘Oh shit, I’m so sorry. Are you OK?’

The poor man she had just walked into helped gather the scattered folders before standing straight, towering over her. She got up and looked at him apologetically. He was wearing dark jeans, a brown leather belt with a big metal buckle and heavy brown leather boots. His light blue shirt was tucked in, highlighting his lean, muscular chest and arms. Strands of black hair were visible underneath his camel cowboy hat.

He smirked as he handed her some of the papers. She couldn’t quite make out the colour of his eyes due to the shadow cast by his hat and the poor lighting.

There was something familiar about the air around him. About those forearms, the posture …

Shitshitshit.

Caroline’s mouth went dry. ‘Hunter.’

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