Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 98(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
I exhale heavily and then laugh. “It feels like I’m on a TV show, listening to you use all these medical terms with a British accent.”
Mila scowls at me, her lips parted like she wants to say something but can’t decide what.
“Mr. Harrison, I imagine you’re in shock right now,” one of the other doctors says.
She looks young—like fresh out of college. Maybe she was a child prodigy or something.
“What are you, an intern?” Mila demands angrily. “Who asked you to be here?”
“I’m thirty-one years old and I’m a neurologist.”
Dr. Harlan clears his throat. “Dr. Cordova is one of our top neurologists, actually.”
“Thirty-one?” I arch my brows. “Never would have guessed.”
“I get that a lot. I have a good skincare routine.”
“For fuck’s sake, can we stay on topic?” Mila snaps.
“Of course,” Dr. Harlan says. “Let’s review the scans so we can tell you what we do know about the tumor and what we still need to figure out.”
“So it might not even be cancer?” Mila asks hopefully.
“We won’t be able to say conclusively until after the biopsy.”
It’s cancer. We get the diagnosis ten days later on a Zoom call in Mila’s home office.
She cries silently as the doctors discuss treatment options; I force myself to stay focused on what they’re saying even though I don’t want to be here right now.
I had a feeling, based on the body language and tones of the doctors at our last London appointment, that the biopsy would just be a confirmation of what they suspected.
“We’d like to start radiation immediately,” Dr. Harlan says.
Mila swipes her fingers over her cheeks, opening her mouth to say something but then closing it again.
“Sorry,” she says sheepishly. “I’ll let you talk.”
She’s so used to handling things, and she’s great at it. Run a professional hockey team and its full staff? She’s got it. Oversee the construction of our vacation home in Hawaii, making sure it stays on budget and on time? Not a problem. Make sure our daughters get to every lesson and practice on time while also making sure they get healthy meals and time with both parents every day? Yeah, she does that, too.
Mila is a leader. I’ve always let her run the things she wants to run because she’s never tried to run me. We have a partnership. Since retiring from hockey after we won the championship, I’ve tried to do more for the girls, but with being sick, it’s been hard.
No wonder—I have cancer. Part of me still can’t believe it, but another part of me has been ready to start fighting it since the day of our last appointment in London.
“Doc, we appreciate everything you and your colleagues have done, but now that we know what we’re dealing with, I’m planning to get treatment here at home. It wouldn’t be good for our family to travel there for it.”
“I understand. Ask your treatment team to reach out to me and I’ll send them all of the results. This is stage two, Mr. Harrison, and you’re young and otherwise healthy. Your chances of successful treatment are good. I encourage you to stay optimistic.”
“Thank you.”
Mila thanks him, too, and ends the call. She looks up at me from her chair and as soon as our eyes meet, she bursts into tears. I wrap my arms around her and hold her tightly, resting my cheek on her head.
She’s tough as nails, so she only cries for about thirty seconds before pulling back and taking a deep breath.
“Okay. So I’ll let Dr. Kent know how to request those records. You said they can start treatment right away, right?”
“Yeah, they fast-tracked me when you made that massive donation, which is wrong on so many levels.”
She shrugs. “We help them build a new wing on the medical school, they move up your appointment on the schedule. Seems like a good trade for them.”
I cup her cheeks and kiss her forehead. “I’m going to fight this, babe, with everything I’ve got.”
Tears well in her eyes. “I know. I’ll be right beside you.”
I kiss her lips lightly and smile. “I’ll probably look badass bald.”
Her tears spill over and she furrows her brows. “Fucking hell. I haven’t cried this much in my life. If it was anything else, anything but my family—you. Our family is my entire world, Colby.”
“I know it is, love. It’s mine, too.”
“What will we tell the girls?”
“The truth. But we’ll make it age appropriate. I don’t want to scare them.”
She nods. “What about everyone else? Do you want people to know?”
My shoulders tense as I imagine getting waves of thinking of you cards and social media messages with prayer hands emojis. Endless casserole deliveries. Maybe even floral arrangements.
Fuck that.
“No. I don’t want anyone but close family and friends to know.”
“Okay. I’ll come up with a plausible reason to take a leave of absence.”