Rewind It Back (Windy City, #5)(88)

I’m envious that Luke has a partner to lean on. Someone he can tell how scared he is. Someone he can break down to. I’m happy for him, but envious too. Envious that during the years I spent taking care of my dad, he had the chance to start his own life and family.

My only companion today is a soap opera playing on the waiting room television in front of me. It’s not doing it for me. It’s too dramatic when I need it to be the opposite. Too emotional when I can’t be. So, without anyone else in the room, I grab the remote and change the channel.

I don’t know what I’m looking for. At least, I don’t think I do until I flip to a random sports network and find commentators discussing tonight’s matchup between the Chicago Raptors and the Boston Bobcats.

Rio instantly comes to the forefront of my mind, which is a nice distraction from the stress.

I haven’t listened to his voicemail yet. I haven’t returned any of his texts either because I was busy driving. But there’s the part of me that doesn’t want to respond because I don’t want to lie to him.

I’m going to have to tell him everything, especially if the tests confirm what I think they will. I’ve spent all this time avoiding the topic, but now I don’t see how I can anymore.

This is what’s been holding me back from giving us another shot. It’s not that I don’t want to open up to him about what the past six years have looked like for me, but I’m terrified that when Rio realizes the timeline, he won’t be able to forgive himself.

I don’t want to hurt him, and this is going to.

“I’m going to go grab us some coffees while we wait.” Sarah stands from her seat. “Hallie, can I get you one?”

I offer her a forced smile. “That’d be great. Thank you.”

She squeezes my shoulder on her way out of the waiting room.

With only me and my brother left, he moves from his chair to take the one next to me, both of our attention on the screen.

He nods towards it. “Even after all this time, you still watch his games?”

“Pathetic, huh?”

“Completely.” I smack him in the shoulder with the back of my hand, but he just laughs. “Kidding.”

We sit in silence, listening to the commentators discuss the matchup between Boston and Chicago, until eventually, Luke speaks up.

“You didn’t have to come, you know. I could’ve called you after the results came back.”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t wait around. I felt like I had to do something.”

“Yeah, I get that.” He sounds exhausted. “Honestly, I have no idea how you did this for so long on your own.”

Well, I didn’t really have a choice.

It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t say it. Today is not the day to make him feel worse than he already does.

“And for the Raptors,” one of the commentators on the television says, stealing our attention. “Forward Victor Thompson has been added to the injured reserve list and tonight, defenseman Rio DeLuca is a healthy scratch. Which is a big surprise because Boston is DeLuca’s hometown, and I know he’s got a whole local fan club here to watch him.”

What the hell?

I grab my phone to text him, but before I can, my dad’s doctor comes out of a side door, headed straight for us. My brother and I stand as she approaches, prepared to get some answers from the oncologist that’s helped my dad since we first moved back here for his treatment.

Sarah walks back in the room to meet us, dropping the coffees onto a nearby side table and slipping her hand into my brother’s.

“Hey, guys,” Dr. Young says. “Long day, huh?”

Neither Luke nor I answer her.

“I’ll cut straight to the chase here.”

In that half of a second, I brace for impact, telling myself about the bad news before she can.

“His test results look good,” Dr. Young says. “We ran the usual ones, and nothing is showing signs of a relapse.”

“Oh, thank God.” My brother exhales, hands braced behind his head. “He’s okay?”

Dr. Young smiles. “He’s okay. His temperature is back in the normal range, and he hasn’t spiked a fever since he’s been here. But he is fairly dehydrated, so I want to keep him overnight, get him some fluids, and keep an eye on him.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Luke immediately turns to Sarah and hugs her, holding on with everything he’s got, but I don’t let myself dip into the emotional relief he’s experiencing.

I keep my composure, asking all the follow-up questions until I feel satisfied in knowing he really is going to be okay. Even then, the only shift in my expression is a simple smile when I say, “Thank you, Dr. Young.”

“Of course, Hallie. I’m going to fill your dad in on everything, but I wanted to give you kids some peace of mind. You can go back and visit him in a bit.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

Luke and Sarah are hugging again, this elated relief being shared between them, and I’m just standing there, not knowing what to do with my hands. Instead, I refocus on the television because not focusing on something feels awkward and uncomfortable while my brother and his wife are sharing this emotional moment.

But then all my attention shifts to the glass windows lining the waiting room wall, watching a man in a beanie jog down the hall in this direction. He pulls the door open to scan the room, finding me in no time.