Gabe stroked Livvy’s hair until she fell into a fitful sleep. Her eyebrows were crushed together, and her lips were pressed tightly together in a grimace. He stiffly got to his feet and walked downstairs, his steps calm and measured, but inside of him, a storm was brewing. The swirling in his stomach and the pain in his chest wouldn’t go away, and if he didn’t get the anger out, it would eat him up from the inside.

Gabe’s hand formed a fist, and he hit the wall. Pain shot up his arm, but he didn’t care. He sucked on his scraped knuckles as he carried on walking down into the basement. He pushed open the door to his gym, stripped off his clothes, pulled on a pair of gym shorts, and stuffed his feet into his tennis shoes.

He started on the punching bag, pounding into it until his knuckles weren’t only scraped but bloodied. He welcomed the physical pain, a far more preferable feeling than the emotional turmoil tearing him up.

Half an hour later, with sweat dripping from his face and dampening his chest, Gabe sank to the floor, heartbroken. He hugged his knees to his chest and cried.

After his private breakdown, he showered, changed, and jogged back upstairs. He dabbed some salve on the torn skin on his hands and flexed his fingers. Unsurprisingly, they were stiff and sore. No doubt Livvy would ask what had happened and worry about him when she needed every ounce of concern for herself. But if he hadn’t gotten that out, he would have exploded, and him losing his shit was no use to anyone. He had to be strong and let Liv be the one to fall apart.

He wanted to keep her all to himself, but he knew he couldn’t do this alone.

He grabbed his cell and made three difficult calls.

* * *

“So, how are you feeling today, gorgeous girl?”

Ches was fussing… again. As she plumped the pillows behind Livvy’s head, Gabe’s lips twitched when Livvy scowled.

“I’m fine. Will you leave those bloody pillows alone?” She twisted and punched them flat, making Gabe’s half grin turn into a full-on smile.

“You’re braver than me, Ches,” he said. “You know Liv.”

Her scowl turned on him, but even when she gave him her best icy glare, he couldn’t love her more. Two more weeks. That was all they needed before the doctors assessed whether their baby would be viable without the need for medical intervention. They would perform a C-section, and as soon as Livvy was strong enough following the birth of their child, they would start her cancer treatment. She’d had a lumpectomy the week after her diagnosis, but through the regular scans, the doctor had assessed she would still need the mastectomy as soon as possible.

Gabe could tell she was suffering. The dark shadows under her eyes—almost like bruises—were combined with a gray pallor that made his heart clench. The one thing keeping her spirits up was the knowledge that she would soon hold their child in her arms. Livvy had always been a mother—without a child. In his quiet moments when she would fall asleep in his arms, her breathing soft and steady, Gabe would send up silent prayers to anyone who may have been listening. He would promise the earth if they let both Livvy and his child live. He could only hope his prayers were answered.

“I am perfectly capable of plumping my own pillows. I am not an invalid.” Livvy gave his mother a beseeching look. “Tell them, Heather.”

Heather’s hands shot up in the air. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not getting in the middle of this.”

Livvy turned her eyes to his. “Can you take me downstairs?”

Both his mother and Ches opened their mouths to protest, but he shot them down with a single look. “If that’s what you want, darlin’.”

She nodded. “It is. And can you make me some of your special scrambled eggs?”

Gabe couldn’t hide his delight. Livvy’s appetite had waned of late, making her even more ill as the baby took what nutrients it needed, leaving her weak and exhausted. He moved over to the bed, tossed back the covers, and lifted her into his arms. Ches scrambled to open the door.

Once downstairs, Gabe settled her on the couch and headed into the kitchen. He could hear Livvy and Ches arguing, and a smile crept across his face. Since Ches had arrived a few weeks earlier, she’d been an immense support to both him and Livvy. Fortunately for them both, Ches’s firm had immediately granted her a leave of absence as soon as she’d explained Livvy’s situation. John wasn’t well enough to travel, but he regularly Skyped Livvy, and she always brightened for a short while afterward.

Gabe glanced over his shoulder as his mother slipped onto a stool at the breakfast bar. “You doing okay, darlin’?”

“I’m not the one you need to worry about,” Gabe said as he cracked eggs into a bowl.

“I disagree.”

He turned, bowl in hand, and began to whisk the eggs. “I’m fine, Mom.”

Heather sighed. “No, you’re not. You’re running on empty, determined Livvy won’t see your pain, but you don’t have to hide things from me.”

Gabe’s face crumpled, and he dropped the bowl containing the egg mixture on the countertop. “What if it’s too late, Mom?” His voice was barely above a whisper in case Livvy heard. “What if they get the baby out but then find the cancer has spread and there’s nothing they can do?” He covered his face with his hands. “I can’t lose her.”

Heather was off the stool in an instant, and her arms went around him. “You listen to me. That girl is strong. She must be, given all she’s lived through. And she loves you so very much. She will fight with everything she has.”

He nodded and pulled back, searching his mom’s face for answers he knew she didn’t have. “I hope it’s enough.”