CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TARA
I set my phone on the tripod and hit record. “Hi guys, it’s been a while since I posted any content, and at first that was because of my breakup with Mark. A lot of you made it clear that you were only here for him—ugh.”
I tap the screen to stop recording and delete the video.
There I go again making Mark relevant. He’s the last thing on my mind, but I’m torn. While in New York, I decided to move forward with my content creation. I’m going to use my platform as a diary to document my journey as I go through treatment. I think it will be a good outlet for me.
The problem is, I’ve neglected my social media since I broke up with Mark. Now, I don’t know if I should acknowledge that we’re no longer together. If I do that one of two things will happen, either I’ll feed the trolls more ammo, or the trash will see itself out. One can only hope for the latter.
Another option is to delete all the videos of us and just start fresh. Maybe the algorithm will find a new audience. Things can get lonely when you’re sick. People avoid you because they don’t know what to say to you, and the ones that don’t get shunted by your mother.
I miss Capone.
I wish he would’ve been with me in New York. At one point I almost asked my dad to call him, but I stopped myself. It’s crazy to think we’ve spent so much time together and never exchanged numbers. I thought about sending him a private message on TikTok, but the odds of him reading it were slim to none. If he didn’t delete the app, he probably never opened it, and he sure as hell didn’t know you could send someone a private message.
The alarm on my watch goes off, interrupting my thoughts and signaling it’s time for me to take my shot. I grab my phone and fold the tripod, tucking it under my arm. As I make my way out of my bedroom, and head down the stairs, my anxiety starts to flare.
I’ve never been a fan of needles, and it’s not like a trained professional is poking me. It’s my mom. I’m not worried about her hurting me, I’m worried she’ll do it wrong. Let’s be honest, I don’t have the best luck these days, and this might be my only shot of ever having a baby one day. The odds are already stacked against me.
I get halfway down the stairs when I see my mother standing at the door, my dad across from her. He hasn’t been home since we returned from New York, and it looks like they’re fighting again.
“What is this, Maverick?”
“Holly let us in.”
“No, I’m not doing this with you. I need to give Tara her shot. Whatever bullshit is going on with your club is going to have to take a back seat.”
“It’s not about the club, Holly.”
I don’t know what makes me move but before I realize it, I’m standing behind my mom, my gaze pinned to the man standing behind my dad. He lifts his head, combing his fingers through his overgrown hair, and our eyes lock.
My heart instantly begins to thump erratically. I wonder if my parents would care if I push them out of the way and rush into his arms. He’d catch me. I’m sure.
“Hey, princess,” Capone rasps.
I hated that nickname because I thought it was an insult, and maybe that’s what it was meant to be initially, but I don’t get that vibe anymore. Like my mom is dad’s queen, I’m Capone’s princess.
My dad clears his throat, diverting my attention back to him. I expect to find him looking at my mom, or his boots—anywhere but me. That’s not the case.
“Tara, baby, I’m taking your mom, and the boys out for a little while. Capone’s going to stay here with you. That okay?”
“No, it’s not okay,” Mom seethes. “We have to do the shot.”
“I can give her the shot,” Capone returns, causing my mother to scoff.
“No offense, Capone, but I don’t trust you. If it’s not done correctly, it won’t be effective… do you even know what the shot is for?”
“Holly, in two seconds I’m going to throw you over my shoulder and toss you in the trunk of my car. Baby, I promise you, it’s okay. I’ll explain everything in the car. Now get the boys and let’s go.”
“I’m not leaving Tara,” Mom says, her voice as stern as her emotions will allow it to be.
“Mom, I’ll be fine. If we run into any issues Capone can call his sister.” I glance back at Capone. “Right?”
“Sure,” he says before stepping around my father and entering the house. My mom tries to block him, but he sidesteps her. Once he clears the threshold, and comes to stand beside me, he looks back at my mom. “I got her, Holly.”
My dad inches closer, tagging my mother’s hand and in one quick move, he tugs her toward him, wrapping his arms around her. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and I watch her shoulders deflate as a sob escapes her lips.
Capone’s pinky wraps around mine, pulling my attention back to him. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but whatever it is feels monumental. I lift my gaze to his and his lips twitch slightly.
“Don’t look so shocked, princess.” I don’t know how he expects me to be anything but shocked. I haven’t seen him in days, and now he sweeps in like everything is perfectly fine.
He takes the tripod from under my arm. “What’s this for?”
“I… um…I thought I’d film everything. I’m going to start a series on battling cancer, and—” He presses his finger to my lips.
“Say less. Just tell me where to set it up.”
I blink. “The kitchen is good.”
He takes my hand in his and glances at my parents. “Enjoy your time together. I’ll call you if we need you. If she’s up to it, I’m going to take her to get something to eat afterward.”
It’s not an ask. He’s actually telling my dad how things are going to play out and all my dad does in response is nod and say, “Be aware of your surroundings.”
“Always.”
Those are the last words exchanged before Capone leads me into the kitchen. The door swings close behind us and he sets the tripod on the counter. Turning to me, he leans his back against the kitchen island and beckons me by crooking his finger.
“C’mere,” he murmurs.
I have so many questions, but they all seem to flee me. I limp into his arms, the pain in my leg slowing me down. His arms instantly engulf me, and he bends his head, burying his nose in the crook of my neck.
It’s probably wildly inappropriate for me to want him to kiss me there again. For him to mark me like he did in the hospital, but I do. I want it so bad. I want to feel those butterflies…and just be a normal girl. Full of raging hormones and curiosity.
“I fucking hated being apart from you,” he growls against my skin. The vibration causes goosebumps to break across my arms and I tip my chin back, giving him more access to my neck. His lips graze the spot behind my ear, and he whispers against my skin, “No more.”
I hope he doesn’t mean no more kisses.
I need more.
I need to feel his lips everywhere.
He slowly pulls back, lifting his hands to my cheeks. Then he lowers his forehead to mine. “I’ll sleep out on the driveway if Holly doesn’t let me crash on the couch, but I’m never going to be far from you.”
That gives me pause.
“My mom might have a problem with that, but don’t doubt my dad won’t too.”
He shrugs. “Maverick doesn’t like it, but he gets it.”
I feel very na?ve because I’m not understanding what exactly he’s referring to, but before I can ask him to explain better the alarm on my watch sounds again.
“I need my shot,” I say pulling out of his arms. Realizing he probably thinks this is part of my treatment plan, I feel the need to explain. “I… don’t know what my dad told you but before they start chemo, I have to take hormone shots. They’re going to extract my eggs.”
“That’s another reason I’m here.” He takes my hands in his again, and widens his legs, pulling me between them. “Maverick said the doctors suggested you freeze your eggs, but it would be better if you had frozen embryos.”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. I never thought about infertility, and I suppose that’s because of my age. But my eyes have been opened this week, and I genuinely feel for every woman struggling to have a baby. There are so many emotions that come with hearing that you might not be able to carry a baby—even if babies are the last thing on your mind at the time.
If I didn’t have cancer, I probably wouldn’t be doing this, but that doesn’t make it any easier. I still feel…less. I can do all this, and it still might not work, and I’ll be the reason me and my future husband aren’t able to have children. I should find comfort in the fact that I’ll be alive, but I don’t. It still feels like something is being taken from me.
I meet Capone’s gaze.
“Yes, well, that isn’t an option.”
“It is if you want it to be.” He cocks his head to the side, his thumbs gently caressing my cheeks. “I’ll be your donor.”
I laugh. “You want to donate your sperm to me.”
He smiles. “It wouldn’t be the first time I got myself off.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Never tried to catch it in a cup before, but my aim is pretty good. Never miss a target.”
I shouldn’t laugh considering how serious this conversation is. I just can’t seem to help myself, though.
“Oh my God, Capone.”
He winks at me, his arms winding around my waist.
“Sorry,” he says, pressing his lips to the tip of my nose. “What do you think? My genetics are good. You’ve seen my nieces and nephews. They’re the cutest kids on the planet.”
When the doctors first mentioned freezing embryos, they asked if I had a boyfriend. Both my parents and I gawked at them. I tried to picture myself asking Mark to donate his sperm if we were still together, and I couldn’t. I quickly realized I would never have asked him, and that’s not just because we are too young for a commitment like that. It’s because I couldn’t see it anymore. I couldn’t see him in my future.
But that isn’t the case now as a reel flashes before my eyes.
My mom always said my soul would recognize the man I’m supposed to end up with before my heart ever did. She didn’t say it would happen simultaneously.
“C’mon, can’t you see it? A little olive skin baby, with big brown eyes, and freckles. Lots and lots of freckles.”
I can and that’s what scares me.
“Say something, Tara.”
Trying to gather my thoughts, I say the first logical thing that makes any of this sensible.
“Did my dad ask you to do this?”
He shakes his head. “No, he hates the idea. But that’s only because he realizes how serious I am. I want to do this with you, Tara. I want to be the guy who stands by your side, not only in good times, but in extra hard times too. I want to be the shoulder you lean on during all of this, and when it’s over, when you’re whole again, I want to be the guy with front row seats to watching all your dreams come true.”
“I can’t ask you to do that…what if you change your mind?”
“I won’t.”
“You don’t know that. I’m… me, and you’re you… we don’t make sense.” But we do. We make perfect sense in my heart. My head just needs to catch up.
“Tara, look at me.” My eyes flit to his handsome face. “Maybe we don’t make sense now but we will in time.”
“Gianluca, I don’t think you understand. Once they’re frozen, they’ll be out of sight and out of mind. Until they’re not.”
Until I get better and start living again.
Until I want to be a mom.
“I know that, Tara. I know what I’m suggesting, and I need you to know that I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t think you were my end game.”
My eyes widen.
“We haven’t even been on a date.”
The corners of his mouth lift and he steps closer to me. “Then let’s get this shot done so I can take you on a date.”
It can’t be that simple. Can it?
“I don’t understand… why me?”
“Why not you?”
“I’m sick, Capone, and…we’ve only kissed.”
I want to believe he’s being sincere, but let’s call a spade a spade. Capone has always been a player. He’s prided himself on being the Knight least likely to settle down, and now, he’s suddenly had a change of heart after a couple of stolen kisses.
I couldn’t hold on to Mark, and I gave him a lot more. Capone will be bored by the time I’m done with my first round of chemo, and if he’s not, it still doesn’t seem fair.
My future is unknown. It’s fragile.
I can distract myself with preserving my fertility, but there are so many variables involved. The next couple of months are going to be hell, and the chemo isn’t even the worse of it. The surgery is complex and the recovery from that—well, I don’t even want to think about it. They’ll be more chemo afterward, and radiation. Why would he take any of that on? What if we go through all of this, and five years from now, I relapse? Is that really the life he wants for himself?
“Kissing you is the single best thing that’s happened to me, and when you’re ready for more, I’m sure that will be just as fucking earth shattering.” He steps closer to me, lifting his hands to cup the sides of my face. “I’m going to wreck you, Tara. In all the best ways. But this isn’t about sex. It’s about you and me moving forward. It’s about seeing you through something tragic and building something beautiful when it’s over.”
I swallow hard. When life feels so uncertain, you struggle to find something bright to hang onto. It should feel foolish, like I’m kidding myself, but for the first time since I woke up in the hospital and learned I am sick, I don’t feel so hopeless.
“C’mon, say yes.”
“To the date or you being my baby daddy?”
His lips quirk. “All of it.”
“Okay, but there’s one condition…”
“Name it.”
“If you change your mind at any point… I want you to tell me.”