Page 90 of Falling for Nicole
He shows no sign of letting me go, but knowing I need to let Lilly know he’s safe has me pulling away and leading him back to the house.
He falls down onto the sofa as I grab my phone and walk into the kitchen.
“He’s here.”
“He’s okay?”
“He’s in one piece but he doesn’t look okay. What’s happened, Lilly?”
“It’s…uh,” she hesitates. “I don’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“Just tell me.”
“It’s Mum.” Those are all the words I need to hear. I know exactly what’s coming next. My hand shakes as I reach out to the counter to help hold me up, because the words I’m about to hear are going to floor me, I know it. “It’s cancer,” she whispers, I guess in the hope that if she doesn’t say it aloud, it might not be real. I know, I’ve been there.
“Fuck.” It feels like the ground’s just been pulled out beneath me. “How bad?”
“Not good. She didn’t want anyone to know before the wedding. They’ve been keeping it to themselves for weeks, Nic.”
“Fuck,” I repeat, because I’m incapable of saying anything else right now.
“Go look after Dec. I’ll call the guys back. Call me if you need anything.”
I hang up and lean back against the counter. I can’t deal with this again. I can’t watch someone else I love go through all that treatment.
“Nicole?” When I look up, Dec’s stood in the doorway, still wearing his leather jacket, and fear still filling his eyes.
“I didn’t…Lilly just…shit.”
His arms come around me just as I begin to drop. My head’s spinning, and I have no idea which way is up.
Dec lowers me to one of the dining chairs before going back into the kitchen and putting the kettle on as a huge wave of deja vu hits me. No matter how bad the news is, the first thing everyone always does is go for the kettle.
“I don’t want a fucking cup of tea.”
Dec’s movements still for a beat, then he carries on getting a mug and opening the coffee canister.
He makes himself a coffee before walking past me and sitting on the sofa.
He needs me. I can’t drown in my own fears right now. This is about him and his mum, not me and mine.
Taking a big breath, I get up and sit next to him. “Tell me everything.”
I force myself to sit and listen to my worst nightmare—history repeating itself. “It’s quite aggressive, apparently. Chemo starts Tuesday, then she’ll have an op before radiotherapy.” Every part of my body urges me to tell him thatit’ll be okay,thatshe’ll come through it,all those statements that used to drive me fucking insane, because how do they know if it’s going to be fine? What’s the point in believing someone who doesn’t have a fucking clue, to only have that hope shattered when they’re inevitably wrong?
“Have they given any indication about the future?”
“She’ll be fine. She has to be.”
“But—”
“No, Nic. I know what you want to say, and I don’t want to hear it right now. She’s going to have treatment, and she’s going to be fine.”
“But—”
“NO,” he shouts, slamming the mug down and striding to the other side of the room. “I can’t hear it right now,” he repeats before storming from the house. The whole building shakes with the force he slams the front door with.
“SHIT,” I shout, and drop my head into my hands.
