Page 304 of The Havenport Collection

Sam

I spent the day before surgery cleaning the house, snuggling with Xena, and trying to remain calm.

I had finished my chemo the week before, getting just one week to rest and recover.

Sadly, the side effects had not received the memo that chemo was over, and I was still sick, tired, and feeling terrible.

Gio and I had not discussed what had happened the other night. Thankfully, he knew that wasn’t something I could even begin to process at the moment.

I needed to tell myself it was an emotional moment and we both slipped up. The photos and the feelings were a lot for both of us, and I trusted him so much that I let my guard down.

Because I had drawn the line weeks ago. We had ended our fling on good terms, and our relationship had shifted seamlessly back to friendship. And I valued and respected that friendship.

So the other night was definitely a mistake.

But…had we actually shifted back to friendship? Or was that just another lie I was telling myself? Because for me, I missed the hell out of him even though I still saw him frequently. I woke up in the middle of the night aching for him, even though he was sleeping just down the hall.

I analyzed his words, actions, and facial expressions, constantly vigilant that we stayed in the friend zone. But who was I really trying to protect?

For so long, I treasured my independence like a rare jewel. It was my defining personality trait. I didn’t like to be tied down. I wanted freedom and adventure and new possibilities.

But had I changed? Had cancer somehow altered who I was? Did one rogue cell not only attack my immune system but also change my personality in the process?

Because right now, I felt different. The pull to move, to explore, and to experience new things had faded. I wasn’t scrolling my phone for plane fares, and I wasn’t on Airbnb looking for a yurt in the Moroccan countryside for a weekend away.

Instead, I was looking forward to hanging out in Havenport. I wanted to finally learn to cook, take walks with Xena, and sit around the fire with friends. All the things I previously rejected, looked down upon even, suddenly felt so precious.

As promised, Gio stopped by with a massive supply of freezer meals, courtesy of Matteo. My mouth watered reading the labels on the containers, despite the fact that I hadn’t been able to eat a big meal in weeks.

“Matteo trying to fatten me up?” I asked playfully.

Gio smiled. “Hell, yes. I figure you need your strength to recover, right? I made sure he made extra lasagna; I know it’s your favorite.”

I smiled as he carefully arranged everything in the freezer, then hung a neatly typed piece of paper on the door. I squinted. “Are those directions?”

“Yup. Matteo knows you are…not the greatest in the kitchen. So he spelled everything out for you.” He wasn’t wrong; I did need step-by-step directions to reheat pasta.

“Can I bring you anything?” he asked, his face earnest.

I shook my head. “Can’t eat or drink before the surgery. But you can keep me company for a bit.”

“Oooh, I forgot,” he said and pulled something out of the grocery bag. He waved a massive bully stick at Xena, who ran right over and sat as his feet, tail thumping on the tile floor.

He leaned down and kissed her head. “That’s my girl.”

Eventually, we settled down on the couch. He seemed nervous and not his usual confident self. I expected him to breeze in here and give me a pep talk about surgery, promising me everything would go well and I’d emerge stronger and better than ever before.

But that was clearly not why he was here. I sat back, studying his handsome face. He looked exhausted with dark circles under his eyes, stubble beginning to grow into a full beard, and wearing old sweats.

“Are you sure you don’t want me there?” he asked gently.

I shook my head. “My mom has it covered.” Truth was, I didn’t want Gio to see me in a hospital bed, missing a breast and with drains hooked up to my body. I couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing me in that state.

Sure, it was vain and a little silly. But I had made myself so vulnerable with him. Revealed parts of myself I had kept hidden for years. He had brought parts of me to the surface that I had buried long ago.

We had shared something truly special together. And I wanted to freeze it in time so I never had to let it go and never had to confront the complex feelings or the hurt. I could just close my eyes and relive the connection and passion between us, without modern medicine ruining things.

“I want to be there for you, Sam.”

“I really appreciate that, and truly, the best thing you can do for me right now is to take care of Xena, like we discussed. Knowing my baby is in good hands will make all of this so much easier.”

“You know I’m happy to dog sit for you. But I can’t help but feel like maybe I could do more?” His face was so vulnerable and hopeful it made my stomach ache. I needed things to be uncomplicated right now, and the look on his face was not making that easy.

I tried to refocus the conversation on the surgery. “I’m scared. Really scared. But I’m not the first woman to have a mastectomy, and sadly I will not be the last. I’ve got great doctors and a wonderful support system.”

“You sure do.” He leaned over and squeezed my hand. “I just need to say one thing. And I know you probably don’t want to hear it at this moment, but I can’t hold it in any longer.”

My stomach clenched. I couldn’t do this right now. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I needed to play pretend in my head for a little while longer.

“I love you, Sam. I am in love with you. Despite the circumstances, being with you these past couple of months has been nothing short of magical.”

I looked at him, tears in my eyes.

“And I don’t want to pressure you. I don’t want to put any expectations on you. I just couldn’t let you go into surgery without knowing this. I had to be honest.”

I nodded and wiped my tears away. I needed to tell him that I loved him too. But I couldn’t. Not right now, not in these circumstances.

This wasn’t how this was supposed to happen. We had our sexy fun. It was great.

Now I was supposed to be focused on fighting this battle against an invisible opponent that could multiply and spread at any moment.

I couldn’t get caught up in feelings for my best friend, and I certainly couldn’t drag him into what was about to be a long-term medical journey where the best-case scenario was losing a breast and some hair.

“Thank you,” I said, trying to find something to say. “I appreciate your honesty.”

He looked at me, his face dejected.

“Gio, I need to think about what you’ve said, and I’m not sure I can do that right now.”

“I’m sorry.”

The tears started flowing again. “Please don’t be. I am so grateful for you.”

He put his arm around me and held me close. “I love you, Sam. I love you so fucking much. And I am here for you, regardless of whether you share my feelings. Because our friendship is one of the great blessings of my life. I am so lucky to know you.”

I hiccupped and sobbed more. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. How he challenged me and pushed me and made me better in every way. But the tears were too much. The grief of knowing that, after tomorrow, everything would be different.

The body he had worshipped would be gone forever. And the carefree girl in the sexy dress from the salsa club was never coming back.

Because Gio was just another item on a long list of things cancer was taking away from me, and I couldn’t bear it.