Page 11 of With You Forever

But it only causes his scowl to deepen.

“How long does that take?” he asks.

“It’s easy. Less than an hour.” The radiologist smiles at Lacey. “Local anesthesia. You’ll leave with a Band-Aid over the incision and instructions to take it easy for the rest of the day.”

Sal jumps in, taking over for Seth. “And then what?”

“Then we send Lacey’s biopsy to a lab to analyze.”

Lacey, bookended by both Sal and Seth, looks between them. She’s so damn grateful they’re asking questions, taking charge, making the doctors break it down for her like she’s a five-year-old, when all she can do is sit stunned. She can’t process—she switched off at “potential to be malignant.” Like new information about a potentially deadly disease will not compute in her rigid type A brain.

Seth’s hand tightens over hers. “She’ll be okay, right?” he asks, a knot bobbing in his throat. “She has to—” He breaks off, swallowing his next words.

An icy chill sweeps over her and Lacey closes her eyes.

Be okay.

“Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?” Mayr says, holding up a hand. “I know it’s frustrating and scary not having answers, but we’ll get those with the biopsy. Results take about one to two weeks, but then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

“Two weeks?” Lacey blurts, her stomach instantly turning. “But that’s so ... so long.” She can’t handle two weeks. Fourteen days of waiting. Of fearing the unknown.

A shuddery breath rolls out of Lacey and her eyes blur. Seth rubs slow circles on her back, telling her to relax. Trying to stop her from spiraling. From thinking the worst. Because that’s what she’s always done, isn’t it?

She doesn’t want to go back there. That dark, lonely, doubtful place she once lived.

“I understand.” Mayr’s smile is sympathetic. “The wait is a pain. But the good news is, the sooner we do the biopsy, the sooner we get results.”

“Are you ready, Lacey?” the radiologist asks.

Sal looks at her, her face a mess of nerves.

No. She’s not ready. Not for this. Never for this.

Still, she inhales a steeling breath and, on unsteady legs, stands. Everything will be okay. She can show Seth and Sal that she will be okay. Lifting her arms, she lets them drop to her side. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Can I go with her?” Seth asks, moving to stand with her.

“I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.”

Seth makes a miserable sound, his tight grip on her hand not loosening.

Heart aching, Lacey turns into him, resting a palm over his thundering heart. “I’ll be okay, okay?”

Seth blows out an unsteady breath. “Okay.”

In low tones, Sal and Luke speak in the visitor’s lounge. Only Seth tunes out the conversation. He sits in a hard plastic chair, head in his hands, trying to remember the steps to breathe. It’s only a needle, a little needle in Lacey, is what Sal told him, but that’s not what’s got him scared shitless.

It’s the spot. The small spot, the size of a pinhead, he saw in the radiology images.

In her body.

Christ. He’s never been more terrified in his life.

He’s felt fear before. When Luke and Sal were in the plane crash. When Lacey nearly drowned last year. When Cash was born. But this—this is a combination of fear and rage. Some bone-deep need to punch a wall and scream at the same time.

He should be back there with her. All he knows is when he saw Lacey sitting in the doctor’s office, looking so vulnerable, so breakable, his blood ran cold.

Seth lifts his face from his hands and breathes out.

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