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Page 23 of Write Me For You

The sound of horseshoes on the hard ground made me lift my head.

Olivia tied Ginger’s lead rope to the grooming stall and brought me the brushes.

She gave me a sympathetic nod, then left me alone with Ginger.

Like he knew I was racked with emotional pain, Ginger turned his head my way and I laid against his neck.

He didn’t even move when my tears soaked his coat. It was like he was giving me a hug.

Forcing myself to calm, I reached for a body brush and began running it over Ginger’s body slowly and steadily, willing my heart to calm.

I worked on my breathing. As I did, I tried to shift my thoughts, to hold on tightly to the 10 percent.

Minutes passed, and numbness spread over me.

The monotonous motion of brushing Ginger had lessened the shaking in my hands and soothed my frayed nerves.

“Junebug?”

My back was to the front of the stall, so I hadn’t seen him coming. I froze, stock-still. I couldn’t turn and look at Jesse. I couldn’t face telling him that we may be taking different roads.

“June?” he tried again, his hand softly taking hold of my elbow.

A fresh wave of fear came over me—not of dying but of not getting more time with this boy who had swept me off my feet.

“Please…look at me,” he begged.

With a long exhale, I turned and there he was. In his faded orange Longhorns T-shirt that was baby soft with so much wear, his jeans, and his backwards cap, I wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace. He was staring at me with fear in his deep green eyes.

“It’s not good news,” I whispered, my voice trembling on every word.

Jesse paled and tried to step closer to me in comfort.

I held out my hand to stop him. He couldn’t touch me—if he did, I’d break.

“Jesse.” I shook my head. “They’ve only given me a ten percent chance of the treatment working in phase two.

” I gave him a watery smile. “I…I…” I ran my hand down Ginger’s neck, turning away from Jesse’s pained face and toward Ginger’s chestnut coat instead.

“June,” he tried again.

“I think this is where we have to part,” I said, hating every word that was pouring from my mouth. But I wanted Jesse to thrive. I wanted him to live. Hitching his wagon to mine would only slow his progress. He didn’t need that in his life.

“June—”

“You have a chance at beating this,” I said, cutting him off again.

I was still avoiding his eyes. I couldn’t face him.

I had fallen for him too hard, and this felt like splitting open my own chest and ripping out my heart.

“You have a chance at making it to UT, at achieving your dreams. And you need to put all your attention into that.” Finally allowing myself to face him, I lifted my head and said, “You have a chance , baby.”

Jesse took hold of my arms gently, softly, and with all the adoration I knew he felt before me. It almost shattered me. I had finally allowed myself to believe that he could want me just as I had to lose him.

When I met his eyes and gave myself permission to become lost in them just one last time, Jesse said, “I do have a chance…about ten percent.”

My eyebrows pulled down in confusion. “What?”

Jesse looked out into the distance, then, facing me again, said, “My chance at beating this,” he said, voice husky and broken, “is about ten percent too.”

I shook my head. “I’m so confused?—”

“I didn’t receive good news,” he interrupted.

My body went statue still. I struggled to breathe. “But Chris…” I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Chris said you smiled at him in the hallway after you’d been to see Dr. Duncan. You gave him a thumb’s up. Made him think your treatment was working.”

Seeing I was struggling to comprehend what had happened, Jesse said, “I wanted to tell you after your appointment, so I was going to wait out in my room until you were done. But then I saw Chris coming out of the rec room. I pretended I was on the phone to my mom to avoid him. But he saw me and was studying me for news. So, I gave him a thumbs up as I wanted to tell you when we were alone, from my own lips, not from Chris.”

“No…” I whispered, my happiness for him immediately morphing into fear.

“The treatment isn’t working for me either, Junebug. At least that’s what Doc Duncan said.” He gave me a sweet smile, and I tried to make my sluggish brain catch up with what he was saying. “My cancer has progressed. I’m doing another round of treatment, but if that doesn’t take…”

“Then you’ll be on palliative care,” I said, repeating the conversation I had had with Dr. Duncan.

“Bingo,” he said, then studied me. His eyes saddened.

“Jesse?” I asked, seeing him so forlorn.

“I knew I wouldn’t be able to face seeing the expression you’re wearing right now, the one that is telling me how destroyed you are for me.” He swallowed loudly. “I wanted you to be happy and focused and keep getting better. I wished for it with my entire heart.”

I ran my fingers down his cheek, heart swelling as Jesse leaned into my touch, as if our contact was limited and he wanted to advantage of it as much as he could. “The look you’re wearing now too,” I said, “over me .”

“Yeah,” he rasped, then pulled me into his chest. Jesse’s arms wrapped around me so tightly, I could barely breathe.

But I didn’t care. He was holding me, and I was holding him and we both…

Lord, we were both hanging on to life by mere threads.

“I wanted you to get good news so badly,” Jesse said, and I felt the truth of his words all the way down to my bones.

“I wanted that for you too,” I said, head against his shirt, holding him even tighter. He felt so warm. He felt alive .

Jesse pulled back and held my face in his hands.

It was only then that I noticed he didn’t have his football.

He always had it with him, but not right now—not in this life-altering moment.

My heart broke anew. Was this Jesse accepting that his dream of being a UT QB was fading? Or was it something else?

Inhaling a shuddering breath, I said, “My pen must not be magical after all. Not for us two at least—the last chapter I wrote didn’t come true.”

“Not in this life anyway,” Jesse said. He looked at me intently, then said, “I love you, Junebug. I have for a while. But I love you, and I need you to know that.”

All of the fear and pain that was surrounding us fell away as those words came from his mouth. And the detached feeling that had taken me in its hold disappeared, and I hurtled back into my body.

I love you.

“Jesse,” I whispered, my heart flipping from lead to helium in seconds. Pressing my hand to his cheek, I stared into his evergreen eyes and said, “I love you too. So much that it aches.”

Jesse’s gaze always held a flicker of pain—a sign that he had a sadness inside of him that he never set free—but that flicker of pain wasn’t there now, in this moment. I was choosing him, and he was choosing me for whatever time we had left.

We breathed each other in, and then Jesse stepped back, holding out his hand and said, “Let’s go.”

“Where?” I asked.

“The rec room.”

I shook my head, that happy bubble of ours bursting. “I can’t…” Then a thought occurred to me. “Does everyone have their results now?”

He nodded.

“Are they all doing better?”

Jesse nodded again. Sadness was back in his eyes. And I somehow knew that the sadness this time wasn’t for him—it was for me.

“It’s just you and me, Junebug,” Jesse said in a raspy voice. He held up his fist, dark humor replacing the sadness in his gaze. “Group two for the win.” The irony of that motto shouldn’t have been funny, but it was.

Despite all the sadness, the shock, and the knowledge that the mountain we both had to climb was now Everest sized, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud and bump his fist with mine. “Group two for the win.”

As my laughter left me, I still felt the heady mix of being both shattered and elated, swinging between numb and feeling every bit of Jesse’s love.

Like the balm he was, Jesse had soothed me. He loved me…and the universe had made sure we were still here, side by side, fighting the exact same battle. It felt like there was some kind of bigger plan to that, something almost unworldly.

Placing his hand in mine, Jesse led me from the stall. Olivia gestured to us that she would turn Ginger back out in the paddock. We walked slowly and silently back to the rec room, building our collective strength to do this.

When we entered, everyone stopped talking and turned our way.

Tears built in my eyes when I saw my mama and daddy were here too.

They must have been waiting for me to come back.

Tears still swam in their eyes, but there was belief and determination there too.

It might have only been around 10 percent, but I still had a place in this fight—Jesse and I both did. Together, we were even stronger.

“You both okay?” Chris asked tentatively, like he knew we were anything but.

Jesse squeezed my hand. “Our treatments aren’t working,” Jesse said, and I saw the surprise and sorrow on our friends’ faces—none more so than Emma’s and Chris’s. Tears immediately fell from Emma’s eyes and Chris appeared stunned.

“I misled you earlier, Chris, not wanting to tell anyone but June first. Not until we were alone, but…” Jesse looked to me, making sure I was okay to share my news.

“My treatment isn’t working either,” I said. I saw Emma’s parents move straight toward mine, along with Paster Noel, who my mama spoke to often.

“Is there still a chance?” Emma asked, her voice small. She was frozen, her pain plain to see on her face. My first best friend and this threatened to tear us apart.

Jesse turned to me, and I turned to him. “Ten percent,” we said, in unison, then laughed, which must have looked completely inappropriate. That caused a range of confused expressions to be thrown our way. They must have thought we’d gone mad.

“We’re not done fighting,” I said, feeling the truth of those words travel through my veins and take up residence in my heart. “We’re going to change the odds.”

“We’re not done fighting yet,” Jesse echoed and then dropped a kiss on my head and put his arm around my shoulders.

Our chances of survival were slim. But we had around 10 percent. And with Jesse beside me, that 10 percent felt like 100. I’d never wanted to fight for something harder in my life.

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