Turning the Page (18 page)

That felt right, and some of the cold that had gripped him began to melt. He was still scared as hell. He’d finally been willing to open up, and his old enemy, the disease that had taken David from him, had returned and was trying to claim someone else.

“Are you sure? I won’t blame you if this is too much.” Hans had to be on the edge of an emotional abyss. Malcolm remembered how David had been blindsided and scared out of his wits at this point. The not knowing was always bad, and he and David had ridden a roller coaster of good and bad news for months. Malcolm hoped like hell he didn’t have to go through all that again, but at the moment, he needed to put his fear and worry aside to help Hans.

“You need to keep calm and try not to worry. I know it’s hard, but until you know for sure, your own imagination is your worst enemy.” He remembered how David had nearly shut down at this point. “There isn’t anything either of us can do right now, so it’s best to try to go on with normal things.” Malcolm heard his own words, but ever since David’s diagnosis, his life had been anything but normal. Still, he knew what he was saying was correct. He just wasn’t sure if he was saying it to reassure Hans or himself. Maybe both of them, if he were honest.

“How do you suggest doing that?”

“That’s one question I wish I could answer. David and I worried for days when he was first diagnosed. There were biopsies, treatment plans, and everyone was so optimistic. But this disease has a mind of its own, and sometimes it does what it wants.”

“That’s so very reassuring,” Hans said.

“I’m sorry. It’s hard for me to be positive about this. But I will be there, and I’ll do what I can to help you.” He knew he was putting some distance between them, and he didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help it.

“Is that all you’ll do?” Hans asked.

Malcolm closed his eyes, clamping them tightly. “I don’t know if I can do anything more. I did that once before, and look how it turned out.”

“David died because of his disease. It didn’t have anything to do with you. It wasn’t your bad luck or something.”

“No, it wasn’t. But it was still hell,” Malcolm said. He opened his eyes when images came to him of David in bed, unable to move because he didn’t have the energy, and Malcolm taking care of him day and night, nurses living with them, and Malcolm feeling guilty every time he left for work because he was afraid that something might happen to David while he was away.

“Knowing how things turned out, would you change anything? Would you still date and fall in love with him?” Hans asked.

Without hesitation Malcolm nodded. “Yes. I’d do it all again. The time we had together was so amazing. I’d walk through hell and back for him again and again.”

Hans sighed. “That’s all I want. Someone willing to do that for me.” Hans stood and shuffled to the other side of the room. “I thought I’d found someone, but you know how that turned out. And then I met you. Yes, I learned that it may have been too soon, and that we’d have to take things slowly, but I saw you in that restaurant with your brother and my pulse raced and my heart pounded in my ears. I saw passion and kindness in your eyes, and I thought you were hot.”

“Me? Hot?”

“Yes. You’re hot, and you’re also one hell of a man,” Hans said, poking the air with his finger. “But I guess everyone has their limits, and I just found yours.” He stalked closer. “Malcolm, I understand that you can’t go through this all over again. I really do.” Hans poured a shot of bourbon and downed it in a single gulp. “As usual, my timing really sucks. But I suppose it’s better that something like this happened now rather than later. Like you said earlier, we can go our separate ways without it hurting too damn bad.” He poured another hit of the liquor and drank it.

“You’re getting drunk,” Malcolm said as gently as he could.

“Doesn’t matter. At least if I’m drunk I can forget for a few hours that I might have cancer.” He began rocking a little from side to side.

Malcolm hurried over to Hans and guided him down into one of the chairs. Then he took the glass and went into the kitchen for a glass of water. He handed it to Hans and encouraged him to drink it.

“I should have known this was too much for you, but I really hoped, you know…?” Hans held the glass in both hands like it would keep him above water. “I fell in love with you,” Hans said. “I didn’t want to. I knew you were still mourning David, but I did anyway. And I was a fool.” He drank the rest of the water.

Malcolm wanted to tell Hans that he wasn’t a fool, that he hadn’t been the only one going down that road, but he stopped himself cold. He could not let this happen again. He would be there to help Hans as much as he could, because no one should have to go through something like this alone, but he couldn’t get close again. That was more than he could handle.

“You need to ease off on the drinking and get some food,” Malcolm said as he left to see what was in the kitchen. He found some fixings and made some sandwiches, then brought one in to Hans. He put the plate into his hands and sat next to him. “Eat.”

Hans picked up the ham sandwich and took a bite. His movements were automatic, and Malcolm doubted he tasted anything. He wasn’t particularly hungry either, but Malcolm ate and worried. Hans was not normally a quiet man. He talked and was open and fun.

“How is the book coming?” Malcolm asked.

Hans turned away from where he’d been staring at the wall. “It’s crap. I worked on it all week, and I’m probably going to have to rewrite everything I did because of all this.” Of course, he was a bad judge of his own work, and only a little distance would tell for sure.

Hans set his plate on the table without looking at it. When he turned to Malcolm, his eyes were flat. Talking about his work and his stories always got Hans excited. He’d light up and forget about almost everything else. Malcolm had to do something. He understood the worry and fear.

“Damn it,” Malcolm said under his breath. He stood and grabbed the plates, then took them back into the kitchen. He tossed the sandwiches into the trash and then rinsed out all the glasses. He even capped the liquor before opening the closet door and getting Hans’s coat. “Come on.”

“What? I want to stay here.”

“Put on the coat. We’re getting out of here. There’s nothing you can do until Monday, so worrying and fixating on it won’t make a damn bit of difference.” He got his own coat, and once Hans was dressed for the cold, he led him out to his car.

“Where are we going?”

“First thing, we’re going to have some dinner. I know a nice place with the best cake.” He headed toward the freeway.

“The same Mexican place?” Hans asked. “I’m really not in the mood to be around people.”

“We need to eat, and sitting at home is the wrong thing to do. You’re going to have to trust me on this.” He made the turn onto Capitol Drive and continued, catching the lights. “There is nothing scarier than where you are right now. David kept saying that all he wanted was to know. He could deal with anything once he had an answer. Maybe he was right and maybe not, but you have to be feeling the same way.”

“I don’t know what to feel. I could have cancer, and the person I thought might care for me, doesn’t. Well, not enough.” Hans stared straight ahead, and Malcolm simply drove. They reached the highway, and Malcolm merged onto it, heading toward and then through downtown.

Hans was wrong—Malcolm did care. In fact, Hans’s words were like a knife to his gut because he truly did care and was falling in love with him. But going through cancer with another loved one was more than he thought he could take. He hated that disease, and it kept taking a toll on his life. Malcolm felt his eyes fill, and then the moisture overflowed, running down his cheeks. He couldn’t stop it and was finding it hard to drive. But he didn’t dare wipe his eyes because he didn’t want Hans to see him like this.

Malcolm dared a glance at Hans, and his chest clenched at the way he sat, hunched on the seat, a finger between his lips, probably biting his nails. Malcolm touched his arm, and Hans lowered his hand to the armrest between them. Malcolm held it, entwining their fingers. He didn’t want Hans to feel alone.

Once they reached the restaurant, they found it busy, but they were able to get a table in the bar. “What would you like?” Malcolm asked.

“I’m not hungry,” Hans whispered just loudly enough that Malcolm could hear him over the din. Malcolm opened the menu and ordered what he remembered Hans had had the last time and then got something for himself.

“You have to eat.” Malcolm knew some of Hans’s mood was his fault, and he wanted to dispel it, but his own fear stood right in the way like a twelve-foot stone garden wall. “So Monday you go in for surgery. Did they leave any specific instructions for preparation?”

“I can’t eat after 6:00 p.m. on Sunday, and I’m to be at the hospital at 6:00 a.m.”

“All right.” Malcolm excused himself to go to the bathroom and stepped around the corner. He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“Malcolm,” Jane said when she answered the call. “What exploded?”

Malcolm wished he’d given a little more thought to what he was going to say. “I need to be out of the office on Monday. Please clear my day as best you can.”

“Just a minute,” Jane said, and Malcolm waited. “Okay. I’m somewhere quiet. I’ll check your schedule in the morning and can easily clear any internal meetings. Then I’ll start contacting clients to reschedule.” She was clearly waiting for an explanation. “Should I contact you on your cell?”

“You can try. But cell service will be spotty at best.”

“Why, are you going into the hospital?”

Damn, nothing got by her. He should have known.

“I’ll be sitting with a friend.” That was all he could tell her. Hans’s health issue was not his to talk about. “I’ll call you when I can.”

“All right. I hope your friend comes through well and everything is all right.”

“Me too,” Malcolm said. He ended the call and put his phone back in his pocket before using the bathroom and then returning to the table. “I called Jane and had her clear my schedule on Monday. I’ll take you to the hospital and sit with you while you’re there.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can manage to get myself there. They said they’d probably keep me overnight and then send me home. It shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” Hans was making light of it, but the darkness in his eyes spoke of his worry.

Malcolm didn’t argue. It wouldn’t do any good at the moment. He intended to take Hans in and stay with him, and that was that. He’d been through this before—he knew what to expect—and he wasn’t going to let Hans do it alone.

“You run hot and cold sometimes,” Hans said after a few minutes. “You say you’re going to be there, and yet I can feel you pulling away from me. You cleared your schedule on Monday so you could be with me at the hospital, and yet you don’t know if you can go through this again. I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Malcolm said. “You’re just going to have to give me a little time too. Your news has thrown me back into everything I went through with David.”

“But you said you’d do it all over again.”

“Yeah, I did, and I would.” It was strange the way that simple statement pulled him in two directions. The real question was, would he do it all over again, but with Hans? With David, the love of his life, yes, he’d do it again. He’d go through hell so they could have the nearly twenty amazing years they’d had together. And yes, he’d give anything to have those twenty years back, even knowing how they ended. But with Hans there was so little history and…. He was being a dick. The unsaid question was written all over Hans’s face, and Malcolm wished like hell he had an answer for him.

The server brought their food, and it drew Hans’s attention away from him. This whole situation was almost overwhelming, and Malcolm needed a little time to think, but he doubted he was going to get it. Hans needed someone, that Malcolm knew without a doubt, and Hans had come to him. Malcolm knew he wouldn’t turn his back on him. But all that kept running through his head were the months of chemotherapy and treatment, the way David had slowly wasted away. The crying in the middle of the night from the pain. That was what he was afraid of. All of that had ripped Malcolm’s heart out and left him feeling completely useless. He’d been unable to do anything to ease those moments of suffering when that was the one thing he wanted most in the entire world.

“Talk to me,” Hans said quietly.

“I was so helpless,” Malcolm said. “That was the worst part—knowing David was in pain and being able to do nothing.” This was not a good time to talk about all that. “I know I wasn’t the one who was ill, but I nursed him and was there for him. He had cancer, but we both went through the disease. Can you understand? It was like we both had it.”

“I think I can,” Hans said. “And you aren’t sure you can have cancer again like that.”

“I’m afraid.” Malcolm took a bite of his enchilada and set down his fork. The food tasted bland even though he knew there was plenty of spice. “It’s that simple. What if I fall for you and you end up the same way as David? I don’t know if I can live through that again.” He was trying to be as honest as he could.

“So what happens? You see me through this biopsy, and if I have cancer, then you walk away? And if I don’t, we can maybe have a relationship?”

“No. I’m saying I don’t know.” It sounded lame to his ears. “I don’t want you to go through this process alone, and I hope more than anything that this is just a scare. I care about you. I didn’t expect to, and I wasn’t looking for it, but you got through. Somehow you got through the grief and the resistance I tried to put up. I don’t want to lose you like I did David.” There, his cards were on the table as much as he could lay them out.

“Okay,” Hans said and reached across the table. “You aren’t going to.”

“How do you know?” Malcolm pressed. “You can’t. No one does.”

“If I have it, then I’ll fight with everything I have. You have to know that.”

“Of course you will.” Malcolm squeezed Hans’s hand in return. “You’re going to be strong and get through whatever happens. I know that.” And he did. He had to. There was no way cancer was going to take someone else from his life. Malcolm could feel his resolve growing inside him. This fucking disease had stolen David away from him. He was not going to let it take Hans too. No fucking way in hell. “And I’ll be there somehow.” He had to be strong for Hans, and nothing else mattered.