Charlotte’s workday was its usual crazy, so by the time she made it to the break room, desperate for caffeine and a bite of something, she was beyond famished. She crossed the room, heading to the staff fridge before she remembered she hadn’t packed herself anything.
Damn. She was channeling Jane now.
“Whatever is in your bag, it smells amazing when you open the fridge,” Sandra said to her.
Charlotte turned in surprise. “What?”
“Your lunch. There’s a big brown bag in there with your name on it. Smells like Mexican food, and I’m jealous as hell.”
Charlotte opened the fridge and gaped. Because there was indeed a big brown bag in there with her name on it, and it smelled delicious. “I didn’t pack myself anything.”
“Well then, can we pretend it says Sandra on it?” the nurse asked with a laugh.
Hell, no. Because she was pretty sure she recognized that handwriting, and the person who’d written it could cook, maybe even better than she could. So she took the bag out of the fridge and to the counter, and opened it up.
There was a glass container filled with what looked like two enchiladas, a side of tortilla chips, and pico de gallo.
Her mouth watered as she pulled out the folded note.
C,
Enjoy.
Love, M
She stood there frozen in place.
Love, M . . . ?
In her pocket, her phone buzzed, indicating an incoming text, and she pulled it out.
MATEO: Check the fridge before the vultures get to it.
CHARLOTTE: You didn’t have to!
MATEO: Actually, I didn’t. If you’ll remember, I ended up in your bed last night when I got home at midnight. My mom left me a fridge full of food. And I know you didn’t have time to cook in your kitchen, since we were cooking in your bedroom until dawn, and I didn’t want you to be hungry.
Charlotte laughed out loud, then bit her lower lip when Sandra glanced over at her. She shook her head at the nurse. “Nothing,” she said.
“Nothing my ass,” Sandra said on a grin. “I wouldn’t mind having someone put that look on my face. The one that says you’ve been kept up all night in the very best of ways. Tell me it’s Dr. Hottie Patottie.”
“There are some things a woman should keep to herself,” Charlotte said with a smile.
Sandra grinned back. “Well, whatever you’re keeping to yourself, it agrees with you.”
Charlotte headed to the ER and pulled Mateo into a corner.
“The note,” she said.
“Good, you got it. I wasn’t sure the food would be safe.”
“The note,” she said again, hearing a touch of hysteria in her voice.
Mateo just looked at her.
“‘Love, M’?”
His dark eyes never wavered from hers. “Yes.”
“You . . . love me?”
His hands came up to her face. “Yes,” he said simply.
She drew in a shuddery breath.
“I don’t expect—”
“I love you too. But—”
He winced at the but.
“But,” she said softly, “I’m not the girl who dreamed about a wedding and kids. I’m . . .” She shook her head. “I’m still not sure I see those things for myself.”
“A piece of paper linking us . . . kids . . .” He smiled into her eyes. “I can do without those things. What I can’t do without is you, Charlotte.”
Heart. Melted.
He started to kiss her, but someone was calling his name urgently from down the hall and he straightened. “We’re swamped. I gotta go. But I can’t until I know we’re okay.”
She smiled. “We’re more than okay.”
He smiled back and vanished.
Still smiling, she left the building and walked over to the urgent care next door to share her lunch with Jane.
She found her sitting behind the counter staring off into space, looking pale.
And maybe like she’d been crying.
“What is it?” Charlotte asked.
Jane just shook her head.
“Jane—”
“What is that amazing scent?”
Charlotte looked around. There was no one waiting to be seen. “Let’s take lunch.”
They went into the back, heated the container, then sat at the small staff table and shared the food.
“Mateo cooked this?” Jane asked after shoving in a few big bites. “You’re going to have to marry him, you do realize that, right?”
“It’s his mom’s cooking.”
“But he shared it with you.”
“Yes,” Charlotte said, unable to keep the small smile off her face.
Jane took in her expression and nodded with satisfaction, though the good humor didn’t make it all the way to her eyes. “He’s the One.”
Charlotte set her fork down. “You ready to talk?”
“No.”
“But you will anyway?”
Jane pushed the food back. “My grandpa has cancer.”
Charlotte felt the breath stutter in her throat. “Oh, Jane. I’m—”
“—Sorry?” Jane shook her head. “I am too.” She looked away. “I’m . . .” She stood up and paced the room. “I’m feeling a lot of things.”
“You’re angry,” Charlotte said softly.
“Damn right I am.”
“It’s one of the first emotions to hit with a cancer diagnosis.”
Jane stopped pacing, “I’m not one of your patient’s family members.”
Charlotte nodded. “Of course not. I’m sorry.”
Jane closed her eyes for a beat, then sighed. “No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. He didn’t tell me about it. I wasn’t important enough to him. I had to find out on my own.”
Charlotte’s first thought was pain and fury for Jane, who’d started to trust her grandpa after a life filled with hard-earned mistrust of her family. If the man had been standing here, Charlotte could have killed him with her bare hands. Her second thought gave her an icy shiver. “Jane. Tell me you didn’t defy HIPAA—”
Jane’s face closed off and Charlotte’s heart took another hard kick. “Jane . . .” She broke off when her phone beeped. Work. She was needed in the OR stat.
“Go,” Jane said. “I’m fine.”
No, she wasn’t, but Charlotte had no choice. “I’ll call you soon as I can.”
Jane turned away and nodded, and Charlotte had to walk away. One of the hardest things she’d ever done.
JANE MOVED ROBOTICALLY through the rest of her shift. The second it was over, she went straight to her car and started driving. Charlotte had been right. She needed to talk this out with her grandpa. Without jumping to conclusions. It made perfect sense. It was the logical thing to do.
But here was the thing. She didn’t feel logical. Which undoubtedly was the reason that when she parked, she found herself at Levi’s house.
Probably because her heart knew what her brain had accepted: that in that moment, she needed Levi. She could feel the vibration of panic and anxiety just beneath her skin. She was scared and angry, and on the verge of losing it as she got out of her car.
Levi opened the door before she got to it. “You’re off early—” he started, but then his smile faded as he came down the steps to meet her. “What’s wrong?”
She bit down hard on her lip, but the tears came anyway, silently spilling down her cheeks.
“Are you hurt? Where?” He reached for her, reeling her in, eyes sharp as they ran over every inch of her.
“Not hurt,” she managed. “Just . . . I got some hard news, but I can’t say it yet.” Not without completely losing it. “I need a minute.”
His eyes were filled with a deep concern, and there was a grim set to his mouth as he gathered her into his arms and held her close, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “Whatever it is, Jane, I’m right here. We’ll deal with it.”
She had no idea how or why, but he never failed to strip her defenses away—a double-edged sword because oh, how she hated being vulnerable or seeming weak. But she fisted her hands in his shirt and held on tight.
They stood like that right in the middle of the front yard for a long moment, her a complete hot mess soaking up the comfort and peace she always found in his arms, him a solid, steady rock. And then suddenly she felt a gentle patting on her back from hands that weren’t Levi’s—which she knew because he had one hand cupping the back of her head, the other low on her spine.
And then yet a third person’s arms hugged her from behind.
“Jane?” It was Shirl. “Baby, what’s the matter?”
“Whatever it is, we got you,” Tess said.
“I’ve got an extra taco. Do you want it?” This was from Peyton, and Jane lifted her head to find that the entire Cutler family had come out of the woodwork to check on her.
The front door was still wide open, and from inside the house came the most delicious scent of Mexican food. She’d interrupted their dinner. She looked up and saw Hank waiting on the porch, clearly not wanting to crowd her. Peyton had a makeshift bib of a paper towel tucked into the neck of her sweater and a taco in one hand. Jasper was at her side, very gently and stealthily licking the taco shell.
“I’m sorry.” Jane swiped at her eyes. “I didn’t mean to interrupt a family dinner.”
“Honey, don’t you give it a second thought,” Shirl said. “Come inside, I’ve got food. And hot tea.”
“Yes,” Tess said. “And I’ve got something to lace the tea with.”
“For me too, Mommy?” Peyton asked.
“No, but you can have a lollipop.”
Levi looked at his mom and sister. There was a silent exchange, and then everyone nodded and went back inside except Levi. “We don’t have to go,” he said. “We can go somewhere else, anywhere you want, name it.”
She sniffed. “The food smells good.”
He smiled. “Here it is then. Talk, or food first?”
She’d never be able to eat until she got this out. “Talk.”
He offered her a hand, and together they walked inside. He pulled her through the crowd of his well-meaning family and up the stairs.
Despite the mountains of paperwork on the desk, Levi’s clothes over the back of the couch, and Peyton’s toys strewn everywhere, the room felt warm and cozy. She sniffed again, trying to get ahold of herself. “You really are a slob like Tess said.”
“Ha-ha.” He reached out and swiped everything from the couch with a single swoop of a hand. “Have a seat.”
When she did, he came up with a box of tissues from somewhere and sat next to her, pulling her into his side. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Right. Now she had to say it out loud. “At breakfast this morning, there was something off about my grandpa, but I couldn’t place it. Last night I’d asked him about his health and he told me he was fine. Promised me, even.” She gulped in some air. “But he’s not. He’s got cancer.” Just saying the words out loud had the horror bubbling up all over again. Her eyes filled. “I just found him again and he’s going to die.”
“Oh, Jane.” He hugged her tight, his jaw resting on the top of her head as he rocked her a little bit, and for a moment, she sank into him and let his strength seep into her.
“What kind of cancer?” he asked. “So many are curable, now more than ever.”
“Yes, if the patient elects to seek treatment.” A little bitter about that, she climbed off of his lap and began to pace the room, not easy with everything on the floor. But Charlotte was right, she was angry, very angry, and that was okay because behind that was a grief she wasn’t ready to face. “It’s lung cancer. Apparently he was successfully treated two years ago, but it’s back and . . .” She swallowed hard. “He is refusing treatment this time. He’s just going to let himself die, without telling me. How could he not tell me? How could he look me in the eyes and promise me that everything was okay when he knew, dammit, he knew that nothing was okay and it wouldn’t ever be okay again.”
Levi rose to his feet and stepped into her path.
She lifted her face to his. “How?” she demanded.
He ran his hands up her arms. “It’s complicated. You more than anyone knows that. You’re only just back in his life. It’s possible he just hasn’t worked up the nerve to tell you yet. Cancer isn’t exactly an easy thing to talk about, especially with someone you love.”
“No.” She twisted away, turned her back on him and his empathy. “It’s exactly the thing you talk about to someone you love. In fact, it’s the first thing he should’ve told me. Like: ‘Hi, I’m so glad you’re back. You should know, though, that I’ve got cancer, but I love you enough to tell you the truth.’”
“Jane—”
“Stop.” Deep in her head somewhere past denial and anger, she knew she was being unreasonable—irrational, even. She knew there was never an easy way or a convenient time to talk about something like this, but she had thought when it came to her and her grandpa, their relationship was real this time. Clearly she’d gotten it wrong. Hell, maybe she was still nothing but an inconvenience. He certainly couldn’t possibly really love her “to the moon and back” if he’d kept such a huge, unforgivable secret.
“This might have nothing to do with you or your relationship with him,” Levi said quietly. “This might just be about him, and, Jane, you may have to accept that.”
“He still should’ve told me right away.” She hugged herself, staring out the window. “He knows I’m going to be gone again soon.”
“Is it possible that he didn’t want to spend the last of his time with you talking about death and being sick, or defending his choice of treatment? That he just wanted to soak up every moment he could with you before you go?”
There was a tightness to his voice, but she shook her head. “He chose no treatment. None. Zero. Zilch.”
“Again, his choice.”
Fueled by panic and anxiety and fury, she whirled on him. “Are you actually trying to defend his decision to me? There are treatments available, Levi. There is no defense for what he’s doing.”
“I assume you’ve talked to him about this. Calmly. Rationally. No judgment.”
She tossed up her hands. “Of course I haven’t. I came straight here.” She felt her eyes fill. “I’m just so mad at him,” she whispered. “So mad.”
He nodded and came slowly toward her, making his way through the roadblocks without any trouble. “It’s understandable,” he said. “But it’s possible he made his choice before you were back in his life.”
She stared at him as his words hit her like a one-two punch to the solar plexus. “So it’s my fault for not reaching out to him sooner?”
“No, of course not. But I do think he might’ve made a different choice now—something you won’t know unless you talk to him.”
She pressed the heels of her hands to her temples. “You don’t get it. His decision was made months and months ago, and cancer doesn’t waste time. There’s no going back and fixing this in the here and now.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Oh, Mr. Fix-It, but I do know it. I accessed his records, Levi. All of them.”
He was toe-to-toe with her now, but not touching her, looking suddenly both incredulous and angry, and she’d like to know what he could possibly have to be angry about. She was the angry one, as was her right.
“Let me make sure I understand,” he said carefully. “You said he seemed off. Then he told you he had cancer, and you pressed for more information and he showed you his medical records. Yes?”
She looked away. “He did seem off. And I didn’t press him for answers because he wouldn’t have given them to me.”
“So you, what, accessed them without permission, meaning you risked your entire nursing career, not to mention your license, to avoid a difficult conversation with your grandpa?”
Shit. Well, when he put it like that . . . But her fuse had been lit, which meant rational thought and logic were backed up behind the huge ball of emotion in her throat. “Family matters more than any job,” she said. “Or at least it should. And you’re one to talk about avoiding a difficult conversation. You made up a pretend girlfriend!”
“Guilty. And for the record, I stopped pretending a long time ago. As I told you, this”—he paused to gesture between them—“is real for me, Jane. Very real.”
She sucked in a breath. She was never going to get used to that.
Levi gave her a small, tight smile. “But clearly you haven’t gotten there yet.”
“I haven’t let myself go there,” she corrected. Paused. “I do know you’re important to me, Levi. Very important.”
“As important as your job? As important as your love of going far and wide without any tether longer than the length of your next contract?”
“Work doesn’t factor into this.”
“The hell it doesn’t. Work gives you an excuse to leave.”
For a heart-stopping moment, she was eight years old again, too much trouble to keep, to fight for, to want. She’d fixed that, though, by always leaving first. “That’s not fair.”
“No? You’re the one who, in the same sentence about your grandpa’s cancer, also talked about leaving Tahoe. How convenient for you to have a built-in escape route. But things change, Jane, and you could change with them. Because no one’s asking you to leave this time. You don’t have to take another contract. You could stay here and enjoy the time you have left with your grandpa.”
She stared at him, trying to fight the rising panic she couldn’t explain. Maybe because he made it all sound so simple when it was anything but. Wasn’t it? “I’ve never lied to you. You’ve always known I was going to leave.”
He looked . . . disappointed. Hurt. “You’re running away again, this time from people who really care about you, because you’re too afraid of getting hurt to even try and build a real relationship.”
Is that what she was doing? Finding reasons to take off before she could be asked to leave? Holy shit. Abruptly, she sat down on the couch, ashamed and furious with herself. She didn’t know how to respond.
Levi sat on the coffee table facing her.
Still not touching her . . .
The silence stretched where she didn’t say anything, could hardly even think over the blood pounding in her ears and the panic squeezing her throat. Panic, because this was it. She was going to lose her grandpa and Levi in one fell swoop because of the ever-present desperate need to run from anything that made her feel too much.
“Jane, what do you want me to do here?”
“I want you to do whatever you want,” she said dully.
He nodded and stood. “All right.” He was clearly waiting for her to do something. Walk out, she realized, so she stood too, and without another word, did just that, without looking back. That was the trick, she reminded herself. Never look back.
But for the first time, she wanted to.