"It's not okay. No one should have to go through that."

I gaze into his pained, glistening blue eyes that hold so much emotion, like he's actually feeling everything I'm telling him.

I take another deep breath. "After nine months of chemo, and thirty-six rounds of radiation, my markers came back clear. I went a year with everything going well. I was feeling great. I wasn't fatigued or sick. I was actually happy. But that all went away when one of my blood tests came back elevated and additional tests had to be done immediately. I was told my cancer was back-stage three. It was at that moment that I realized you don't have to feel sick to be sick. People can feel invincible one day, and be given tragic news the next."

I pause, glancing at Parker. He's watching me intently with soft eyes. He doesn't have to speak for me to know what he's thinking. I see it all. I see the emptiness. The sadness. The longing. All the things I've felt.

"I needed more chemo and radiation. I didn't understand ... all that treatment for what? For it to come back? For the last two years, I've had off and on chemo between oral and IV drugs. I did trial studies, different drugs, newer drugs, everything. In and out of hospitals, scans and more biopsies. After everything failed, Dr. Olson suggested the bone marrow transplant. We got my counts to a good enough place where I was a candidate to be my own donor."

"Can't they just go in and remove it?"

"Not with Hodgkin's. It travels in your lymphatic system. Just slithers its way through your body. One second it can be here and gone, and the next it shows up somewhere else. It spreads like the plague. It's chemo and radiation, or just chemo for treatment. And, hopefully, in my case, a bone marrow transplant."

"And you already had that done?"

"Just before I met you I had a needle stuck through my pelvic bone. They harvested my cells, and then froze them until I'm done with the chemo. I only have one treatment left. Then I think it's a couple weeks until they give me the cells back. I need this to work, Parker."

My mouth is dry from all my talking, but I don't stop. I tell him all about my port, my current treatments, losing my hair, and more on what's to come. He doesn't speak. He just holds my hand while drawing light circles in my palm with his thumb.

He asks questions, and I answer.

I'm not sure what I was so afraid of. Love heals all wounds.

I hope.

Chapter Nineteen.

Parker insists on coming with me to my last chemo treatment, along with Genna and my parents. Jason wanted to come, but couldn't be away from the clinic, and a.s.sured Parker not to worry.

I get my blood drawn, then head downstairs to the oncology office for an appointment with Dr. Olson, who came to the Mayo Clinic for the day. As my name is called back, everyone stands with me.

As we make our way back to the room, I smile at the thought of having everyone I love- aside from Jason and Jean-with me. I feel blessed to know I have the support of my family. To know they want to be here for this: my appointment, my last treatment; everything.

"Dr. Olson will be with you in a few minutes," the a.s.sistant says as she exits the room.

There isn't enough s.p.a.ce for all of us at the small table. Parker and Dad stand off to the side, while Mom sits next to me and Genna sits in an extra chair the a.s.sistant brought in.

There are two soft knocks on the door before Dr. Olson walks in.

"Wow, full house today." She laughs as she makes her way over to the desk. I re-introduce her to my family, then to Parker. I don't know what to call him, so I just call him my friend. He doesn't seem to disapprove, but I also don't miss the small twitch in his jaw at the introduction.

"Aundrea, how are you feeling today?"

I love this question. She never asks me how I am. It's like she just knows how her patients are doing. c.r.a.ppy. I mean, come on, we have cancer. She always gets to us on a different level. A deeper level.

"Today? Great," I say with a smile. It's the truth.

"That's good. How are the symptoms your dad called me about?"

"The pain is better. I still ache every now and then. I think the headaches are the worst. I feel like I have one every day."

"Yeah, that's a common side effect, and, unfortunately, an unpleasant one. Do you think you want something for migraines?"

"No, I already take enough pills."

"Fair enough. Well," she looks down at my open file on her desk, "Your markers came back." Looking back up to me, she gives a smile. "They're good, Aundrea. Great, actually. We'll schedule one more lab draw in four weeks, and if all is well, you'll be getting the transplant."

My mom claps her hands together in excitement. Genna smiles at me and Dad gives me an approving head nod. When my eyes meet Parker's, he gives me a wink.

"That's great!"

"I thought you'd like that. We'll admit you for the transplant. Remember, you'll stay in the hospital for about three to four weeks, and your outside visitors will be very limited."

I look at Parker, but I can't read his expression. He's hanging on her every word.

"We need to keep you away from any type of infections. I'll have orders for you to get blood transfusions throughout your stay to keep your platelets up, and IV antibiotics to help fight infection. It's very crucial you don't get sick during that time, because if you do, we run the risk of your body rejecting the transplant."

"I understand. I'll do whatever it takes." I mean this with everything I have. I will follow all the doctor's orders, even if that means I have to be isolated from the world for an entire month. As long as I have my Kindle, I'll be okay. Well, maybe my phone, too.

Parker stays by my side during the entire treatment. He asks the nurse a hundred questions about what I am getting, how it is administered, and even my dosage. I like seeing this side of him. How completely invested he is in my well-being. It makes me really happy knowing he cares this much about me.

After my treatment, my parents have to go back home, so Parker offers me his place to stay. I don't even try to protest because I know that giving Genna and Jason a small break would be nice. I've been with them almost nonstop since I got here.

"Are you doing okay?"

We're sitting on his couch with my head in his lap. I've been writing in my journal while he watches the hockey game.

Looking up, I see him looking down into my eyes. "Yes. Nothing has changed since you asked five minutes ago."

"I'm just checking."

"Relax, Parker," I say with a slight smile.

"I am relaxed. What are you writing about? Me?"

"No," I say, holding my journal to my chest to hide it.

"What? I can't look?"

"No."

"Why? I'm in there, aren't I?

"Maybe," I say with a smile.

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrows as the corner of his mouth turns up.

"Yes, oh," I mock.

"Then I should read it."

"It's really not all that interesting."

"Everything you have to say is interesting, Aundrea."

One of my doctors told me I should keep a journal during my treatment. That it would relax me and allow me to get my feelings out. I only pull it out once a month to write one long entry. It's better than giving daily, boring updates.

"What are some of the things you write about?"

"Not much. Honestly, I hardly ever write in it." I start to stand so that I can put it away, but instantly I have two arms around my waist pulling me back into his lap.

"How come you always seem to find yourself in my lap?"

"How come someone can never keep his hands to himself?"

"Admit it. You like my hands on you."

Of course, I blush. Parker reaches up, brushing my hair off my face. "Take this off."

"No."

"Please. You don't have to hide behind that."

"I'm ..." What? Afraid?

"Aundrea, you're so beautiful. These lips." He gives my top lip a soft kiss. "This chin." Bringing his mouth down, he kisses next to the small freckle I have. "Your big eyes. I love your eyes." I close my eyes and feel a kiss on each lid. "And this nose. You have a tiny b.u.t.ton nose. It's so cute." I smile, allowing him to kiss the tip of my nose. "You're perfect," he whispers, bringing a hand up to pull back my wig.

I don't stop him. I let him pull it off. I let him explore me. It's the first time we've really been alone since I told him about my cancer. I want to give myself to him. I want to allow him to get to know my body.

When my wig falls to the floor, he kisses all over my head, not letting the small droplets of sweat from the wig bother him, "You have a perfect head, Aundrea."

I refrain from arguing with him about my head. I'll save that for another time and place. Knowing that probably after tonight I'll be too sick to want him to touch me, I take this opportunity to bring my lips to his. I want to feel his mouth on mine and his body close to me. I want to give him a side of me that no one else has. A piece of me that I thought no one would ever want.

His lips are gentle on mine. He takes his time with me, not pushing to go any further. The tip of my tongue comes out to meet his.

Holding my hand, he pulls me off the couch, walking me into his bedroom where he slowly undresses me, kissing my shoulders, collarbone, chest, stomach and the palms of my hands.

"I love you, Aundrea."

"I love you, too."

Laying me down on the bed, he helps me slide all the way to the top, so that I'm naked before his eyes, my entire body hairless.

I don't try to cover myself, and I don't close my eyes. I watch him take in the sight before him, waiting for him to betray some sign of disgust. It never comes. Instead, I see the fire, the yearning, the need in his eyes. Most of all, I see the appreciation he has for me. For my body. Just that look causes me to tremble.

"You're absolutely beautiful, Aundrea. Every inch of you."

Slowly, I help him out of his own clothes and then he's sliding into me.

There are no words of heat.

No words of hot pa.s.sion.

It's just the two of us, allowing our bodies to explore one another. We move together slowly, staying connected, not allowing the moment to fade away.

He never lets go of my hand, and I never drop my gaze.

I have no idea what time it is, but I find myself in Parker's bathroom, in the dark, throwing up everything I consumed yesterday. I woke up to a wave of nausea hitting me hard. I tried to be quiet as I ran into the adjoining master bath. I even turned on the faucet to try and drown out the noises my stomach and throat were making.

Parker heard everything. He was up, jumping out of bed and coming into the bathroom before I could even count to five.

"Do you need something? Water? Anything?"

"No," I cry between stomach clenches. My eyes burn from the tears.

I feel soft circles on my back as I empty my stomach. I'm surprised that I'm not embarra.s.sed for him to see me like this.

I'm thankful to have someone here.

I'm thankful to have him here.

When I feel like I can't give any more, Parker helps me back into the bed. "Here. Just lie down. Let me get you a bucket and one of your pills for nausea."

With a gla.s.s of water in hand, I chug it down, letting some slip past my mouth and onto the comforter. "Sorry," I mumble with the gla.s.s still in my mouth.

"Don't worry. Can I get you something else?"

"No. I think I'm okay." I'm hot, but I shake with chills. I can feel the beads of sweat dripping down the side of my bare head and down my neck.

"Will you cuddle with me?" I ask, snuggling into the comforter in hopes of stopping my shudders.

"Of course."

I never thought I was much of a cuddler, but all I want is to feel him next to me. To know he's really here and not leaving.

"You're burning up, Aundrea. Are you sure you're okay?" I hear the concern in his voice, but shrug it off.

"Yes. I'm sure. It's just the drugs. I'm okay, I promise. I just want to lie here with you for a minute."

"You're shaking."

"I just want you to hold me, Parker. Please."