What's Left of Me (25 page)

“How come you don’t have a boyfriend?”

I nearly choke on the grape.
 
“Excuse me?”

“A boyfriend.
 
How come you’re single?”

“How come you’re single?”

“Because my girlfriend left me.
 
Now you.”

Oh shit.
 
Hitting territory I don’t want to go.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.
 
She did me a favor.
 
How come you don’t have a boyfriend?”

I take a deep breath and let it out.
 
Why don’t I have a boyfriend?
 
Because I got cancer.
 
Adam got scared and couldn’t handle it.
 
He left me.
 
The guys since have just been filler.
 
“He left me.”

“How long ago?”

“How long ago did your girlfriend leave you?”
 
I’m not sure I want to know, but the longer I can keep myself out of this conversation the better.

“A year.
 
You?”

“Why?”

“You.”

What has it been now?
 
I count the years in my head.
 
“Four.”

“Months?”

“Years.”

“You haven’t had a boyfriend in four years?”

I shrug.

“Seriously?”

“Well, I’ve dated and had short relationships every now and then, but nothing serious.”

“Wow.
 
Why?”

“Okay, this is hitting too close for comfort.
 
Change of subject, please.”

“I’m not trying to put you on the spot.
 
I’m in shock.
 
A beautiful woman like you, roaming the streets for four years.
 
I can’t wrap my head around it.”

“I was never
roaming
the streets.”
 
I laugh.

“Why’d he leave you?”

“Why did she leave you?”

“She wanted to get married.”

Yup, I am
really
hitting territory I don’t want to go into.

“You didn’t?”
 
Do I want to know this?
 
Yes.
 
No.

“No.”

“That’s harsh.”

“I want to get married. I just … I couldn’t give her what she wanted at the time.
 
She wanted a ring.
 
I was looking into internship programs.
 
I didn’t know where I’d end up.
 
I wanted her with me, by my side, but I didn’t think I needed to give her a ring to prove that to her.
 
When she asked for one, I said I wasn’t ready.
 
I came home the next day to an almost empty apartment.”

“Because you wouldn’t get her a ring?”

“Guess so.”
 
He takes a longer sip of his wine this time.

“I’d be happy with that.”

Parker raises his eyebrows and lowers the glass. “You’d be happy if I didn’t get you a ring?”

“No.
 
I mean, yeah, but not like how you think.
 
I mean …”
 
Why do I always find myself in a hole?
 
“I don’t want to get married.
 
So I, personally, would be thrilled knowing I was with a guy who wasn’t thinking about getting me a ring.”

“You don’t want to get married?”

“Nope.”

“Ever.”

“Ever.”

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right guy.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Ouch.”

I let out an awkward laugh.

“So, is that why the boyfriend of the small town left you?
 
He wanted to get married, work the farm while you raised the babies?”

“The farm?”
 
Babies?

“Yeah.
 
You said you were from a small town.
 
Isn’t that what people in small towns do?
 
Get married out of high school and have kids?”

“This isn’t the South or 1950.
 
And, no, that’s not why he left me.”
 
I honestly don’t know if that’s what they do in the South.

“Then why?”

Because he was a coward?
 
Ah, that’s not nice.
 
Adam was a great guy.
 
He was just a scared eighteen year old.
 
I don’t blame him.
 
I probably would have left me too.

“We had different plans in life.
 
My plans didn’t match his.
 
He went his separate way.
 
I went mine.
 
I don’t blame him.”

“And, what are your plans in life, Aundrea?”

Stay alive.
 
“Graduate.
 
Travel the world.
 
Spoil my sister’s kids.
 
Enjoy life.”

The oven goes off and I jump.

I watch, sipping my wine, as Parker takes out our pizza.
 
It’s done to perfection.
 
The cheese is golden brown and bubbling from the heat.
 
The smell of Italian spices fills his kitchen.
 
He grabs a pizza cutter and starts cutting it into small squares.

“Where are your plates?” I ask.

“Second cupboard to your left.”

Walking over to the cupboard, I take out two white square plates.

“Here you go.”
 
I hand him our plates, allowing him to dish up some slices.
Sitting at his table, I blow on my pizza before taking a bite.

“This is really good.”

“Thanks.”

Swallowing down his second bite, he brings up the one topic I want to run from.
 
Kids.

“You said you want to spoil your sister’s kids.
 
You don’t see yourself having kids?”

“I don’t know.
 
Maybe.
 
I just know she’ll have them before I ever consider it, and when she does, Auntie Aundrea will be right there to spoil them.”

“But kids aren’t out of the question?”

“Okay, Parker.
 
All this kid and marriage talk … it’s a little premature, don’t you think?”

“I’m just trying to understand you.
 
I want to know you.”

“Listen, I don’t know the rules for dating and when the personal questions come into play, but remember our conversation about no strings?
 
No questions?”

I can’t have this conversation with him.
 
This talk about marriage and kids.
 
I like him.
 
A lot.
 
The second he learns all this information about me is the second he goes running.
 
I’m not ready for him to go running.
 
Maybe I’m being selfish.
 
I am selfish.
 
I want to keep him around, but I don’t want to share anything personal.
 
Is that too much to ask?

How do you tell the man who you are falling in love with that you don’t want to be a wife or have a family because your biggest fear is leaving them alone?
 
That you can’t stand the thought of leaving your husband a widow, or your kids motherless.

“Noted.
 
No questions.”
 
He sounds a little irritated as he gets up from the table to get another beer.

Shit.
 
Now I feel bad.

“Look,” I say, following him to drop my plate in the sink.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
I’m not good at this dating thing.
 
I’m trying, I promise, but can we just lay low on the deep stuff for a while?”

He walks over to me, setting the unopened beer bottle on the counter.
 
“For now,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist.

Making our way into the living room, I laugh when I see the horror movie he rented for us, joking that it’s his way of scaring me into staying the night.

It works.
 
I fall asleep on the couch with my head resting in his lap.

Chapter Thirteen

Parker and I become inseparable in the week following my postponed treatment.
 
We go to the movies—including a movie in the park—dinner, lunch, and he even takes me to a new bookstore that opened a few towns over.
 
He doesn’t complain once while I walk around for hours reading the blurbs and staring longingly at all the beautiful covers.

We eat in the break room at the clinic together with Shannon, and sometimes Bryn.
 
Sometimes he nudges me under the table to get my attention, then smiles at me when I look his way.
 
He doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable or try to flirt with me in front of others.
 
He still winks at me though, which makes me feel special.

One quiet afternoon, Jason and I are alone in his office talking about random things when he brings up Parker’s and my relationship.

“So, what exactly is going on with you and Parker?”

What is it with everyone asking this?

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering.
 
I know it’s not normal to see in the work place, but I want you to know that I am okay with you two dating.
 
Not to sound all dad-like it’s just with him being co-owner now, I don’t want you to think that I’m against it.”

“I didn’t think you were, but thank you.”

He nods.

I look out through the open doorway and into the empty hallway, when he says, “You think it’s fair not to tell him?
 
I’m not blind.
 
I see how he looks at you and vice versa.”

“I’ll tell him.”
 
Someday.

The following day, I overhear Jason having the same conversation with Parker as he did with me yesterday.

I know there is something between us that is more than friends, but I can’t admit it ... won’t admit it. We’ve shared almost everything there is to share when you’re getting to know someone, except the biggest thing about me.
 
He can sense it, too.
 
When he gets too personal about my life, I back away.
 
I’m scared.
 
Scared to fully give myself to him, to show him what lies beneath.
 
I can’t take his pity or sympathy, which is why I can’t tell him about my cancer. I just know that when he learns about it he’ll walk away.

I’m too selfish right now.
 
I want him around.
 
He makes it worth getting up every day: to see his smile and his winks; even to be called his pet names.
 
I look forward to the light knee bumps at lunch, the walks to my car after work, and even the late-night phone calls.
 
He brings out a side of me that feels worthy.

He makes this battle feel worth fighting.

He makes me
feel
alive.

Parker makes me forget.
 
As much as I’d like to think that I need him, I know it’s more that I
want
him.
 
I want him around.
 
He gives me hope.

“Are you coming with me to the Halloween party on Saturday?” he asks me on Tuesday afternoon.
 
We’re sitting in his office eating lunch while Bryn helps Jason with an emergency walk-in.
 
A dog got hit by a car and was left in the ditch up the road by the driver.
 
Someone saw the entire thing happen and brought the dog to us.
 
Parker offered his assistance, but Jason said it was a clean break and he could do it alone.
 
I’ve never understood how people can be so cruel.
 
To humans or animals.
 
Karma.
 
That’s all I can say.

“I’m not sure yet.”
 
I pick at my tuna and bacon sub.
 
I have to go to my chemotherapy tomorrow.
 
I thought about calling Dr. Olson and asking to give it another week, but my mom yelled at me for even thinking such a thing. I get it.
 
It’s silly and stupid.
 
I can’t deny it would be nice, though, if I could pick and choose when my treatments would be.

“The clinic is renting a limo to take everyone to the hotel together.
 
We’ll already be stopping at your place for Jason and Genna, and there will be plenty of room, so let me know if you want to ride along.”

“Wouldn’t it be more fun to surprise one another?
 
Not know what the other is going as.
 
Think of how exciting it would be to search each other out.”
 
I give him a wicked grin.

I’m giving him hope that I’ll be there, and I can’t help but wish for it myself.
 
It’s kind of sad that I’m hoping my blood counts are still low so I can go.
 
When did I get to the point of wishing to stay sick to spend more time with a guy, rather than getting better to spend more time with him?