Joslynn was not only furious with Russ; she was furious at her own behavior.
How had she ended up here, at his place, crying and shouting and embarrassing herself?
If this was love, she was better off without it. Yet she needed him—needed Russ now more than she ever had—to be with her should she have to battle cancer again. She also realized that should he face the same future as Baron, she wanted to be the one to hold his hand, help him through his fear, and if the worst happened, love him through the whole damn thing.
But he left me—he stopped loving me.
She felt like a rag doll that was so overstuffed she was ripping at the seams.
With a shake of her head, she turned on her heel, ready to run the hell away from this unnecessary confrontation. She had enough to deal with physically. Emotions were just too…hard.
Moving quickly, Russ snaked his hand around her upper arm. “Oh no, you don’t. You get in here.”
She shook her head again, unwilling to glance back at him so that he could see the tears that were filling her eyes.
He was having none of it. “Come inside, Josie. Please.”
Joslynn finally forced herself to look at him. Through the hazy veil of her tears and the rain washing down her face, she saw something she hadn’t expected.
Concern.
If he’d stopped loving her, why did he look so worried?
Everything seemed so muddled, and she was suddenly exhausted. How far had she run? She became aware that she was shivering, and before she could decide exactly what to do about it, Russ swept her into his arms and carried her inside. He didn’t set her on her feet until he reached the master bathroom.
Without a word, he grabbed a couple of towels, put them on the counter, and then picked up the top one. Her clothes were so wet that she was leaving a puddle in the middle of his tile floor. The shivering wouldn’t ease, and she tried peeling her shirt off with unsteady hands. The clingy material was plastered to her skin, and she couldn’t seem to get the damn thing to move.
Russ brushed her hands away. First he gently pulled the band holding her ponytail and let her hair down before rubbing it with a towel. Once her hair wasn’t dripping any longer, he helped to peel off her sodden clothes. She didn’t resist, although she thought about it. But common sense won out. If she didn’t get out of those wet clothes, she was never going to get warm. Since her energy had evaporated, she surrendered to his care, wondering why he was being so kind and gentle.
Once he had her shirt and pants off, instead of taking off her wet sports bra and panties, he marched into the bedroom, returning with a T-shirt and drawstring sweatpants.
“Take a warm shower and then put these on.” He laid the clothes down next to the towels. “I’ll go make some hot tea for you.”
“Th-thank you.” Shit if her teeth weren’t chattering.
All he did was give her a nod before he left her alone.
* * *
Although he was worried about Josie, Russ stepped out of the bathroom to give her privacy. Her trembling had eased once he’d helped her get out of her soaked running gear.
He wanted to get into that hot water with her, to hold her as he soaped her body and helped warm her chilly skin. Taking a silent vow, he promised to do whatever he needed to make things up to her, to mend the hurt he’d caused.
Would she let him back in?
There was no way of knowing, but he worried he’d inflicted a fatal blow. Joslynn had finally let her walls down and had given Russ her trust. He’d spit on that trust, even if he had done what he thought was best for her.
Yet here she was at his place, showing him some pretty strong emotions.
A spark blossomed in his heart.
The shower started, and he let out a relieved sigh. She’d been so docile that helping her undress had been like stripping a mannequin. While she showered, he went about filling the water in his Keurig and trying to find the tea he’d bought weeks ago when he’d learned how much she loved it. The box hadn’t even been opened, because they usually ended up back at the Cottage instead of coming here. Since she always started picking up his things and straightening up the place, Russ had figured she’d be more comfortable at her home instead of here.
As the Keurig heated the water, he found a clean cup and the sugar bowl. Once he had everything ready for her hot tea, he went to the couch to pick up the clothes he’d tossed there right out of the dryer instead of folding them. No doubt she’d start in on that chore when what she needed to be doing was sipping tea and relaxing.
How far had she run? His place was at least ten miles from the Cottage. To run that far in the pouring rain, especially when the temperatures had taken a nosedive? No wonder she’d been shivering.
The shower stopped, so he went ahead and made her tea. A few minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom, wearing his clothes. She’d combed her damp hair and pulled it into a ponytail again.
That familiar feeling of comfort he’d always felt whenever he saw her was quickly replaced by pain when he remembered she wasn’t his now.
Well, then…He’d just have to do something to change that.
“I made you tea,” he said. “Go have a seat on the couch, and I’ll bring it to you.” Until the words had fallen out of his mouth, he hadn’t realized how much they’d sounded like an order.
Surprisingly, she obeyed without a word.
Russ got her drink ready, handed it to her, and then crouched next to her.
She cradled the tea in her hands and blew over the surface before taking a cautious sip. Her eyes considered him over the top of the mug.
There was so much he wanted to say, but the words kept crowding together in his mind. After she’d taken only a few sips, he took the mug from her and set it aside so he could take her hands in his.
With a dark eyebrow quirked, she pulled her hands back and folded them together.
“Josie, I…” Why couldn’t he spit out what he was thinking, what he was feeling?
Because it has to be perfect.
Russ tried again. “I’ve realized something—something very important. And I want to share it with you.”
Still, she said nothing, although her gaze held his tightly.
“My mom doesn’t resent my dad for getting sick.”
She cocked her head. “What?”
“If you love someone”—he picked up her hands and cradled them in his—“you want to take care of them through the good and the bad.”
A look of panic came into her eyes and her breathing sped.
He wasn’t sure what that reaction meant, but he was glad there was a reaction. She still cared, which meant he had a chance to mend things. “I understand now that it won’t matter if one of us has something horrible happen. Sharing the good times will give us the strength to get through the bad times.”
She jerked her hands back. “What are you saying, Russ?”
“That I’m sorry. That I want to be with you through better and worse and all the in betweens. The whole nine yards, Josie. Sickness as well as health.”
Her eyes narrowed, and fury swept over her features. “Who told you?”
“What?”
“Who told you?” she demanded, jumping to her feet.
Russ stood up as well, entirely confused. “Told me what? What are you talking about?”
“You feel sorry for me now, don’t you?” She shook her head. “That’s why you’re being so sweet. You feel sorry for me!”
He reached for her; she turned away. “Josie, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
* * *
What right did Russ have to look confused? He was the one to bring up her illness.
How had he found out? Joslynn hadn’t told anyone yet—not even Savannah or Chelsea. There was no way he should know that she might have cancer again.
Yet here he was, talking about wanting to take care of her if she got sick. The man had dumped her like a bad habit. What other reason would he be telling her that he’d learned something important and then follow that announcement with his statements about better or worse and sickness or health?
“I don’t want you to feel sorry for me,” she insisted. “I don’t want your pity.”
His hands settled on her shoulders, and he turned her to face him. “I was trying to explain why I broke up with you.”
This whole conversation was a train wreck. “But you couldn’t have known about my biopsy back then…”
Eyes wide, he grabbed her by the upper arms, squeezing her almost too tightly. “Biopsy? What are you talking about?”
She’d been wrong. He didn’t know. Joslynn wasn’t about to explain until she figured out what he’d been trying to tell her. “Never mind.”
“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to ‘never mind’ me. What biopsy?”
She shook her head. “Tell me what you meant—about explaining why you broke up with me.”
Judging from the harshness of Russ’s features, he wasn’t about to budge. But he surprised her. “I wanted you to know why I did what I did.”
“You mean why you left me?”
He nodded. “When I saw my mother’s face…That day, remember? When Dad hit her?”
Of course she remembered. It seemed as though Russ had turned to a block of ice that day. She nodded.
“All I could think about was protecting you.”
“I can handle Baron.”
“I wasn’t talking about my dad; I meant me.”
For all the words being said, Joslynn still couldn’t make any sense out of what he was trying to tell her. “You’d hit me?”
“I’d cut my hands off before I’d hurt you.”
“Then what…”
“When I get Alzheimer’s. I meant when I get sick like Dad. I had the genetic test, and I carry the gene.”
Everything suddenly clicked into place. Russ had left her to spare her caring for him if he became a victim of Alzheimer’s.
“Russ, you don’t know that you’ll get sick. Yes, you’ve got the gene. But that doesn’t mean you’re definitely going to have Alzheimer’s.”
“I couldn’t live with the thought that I would do to you what Dad did to Mom. I couldn’t wish that kind of life on you.”
The NP in her wanted to spit out all sorts of information about the disease to try to give him hope that he hadn’t been given a death sentence. Then the lovesick woman in her hijacked her train of thought as she realized he hadn’t left her because he’d stopped caring. Instead, he’d left because he cared too much. “You still love me.”
“Yes, Josie. I still love you. But it might not be enough.”
“Bullshit.”
His eyes widened. “I don’t want you to go through what my mother is going through with Dad.”
“You still love me.” She wanted to shout for joy, because her future—no matter how short that future might be—was once again full of love and light. He might think he was being noble by walking away to spare her a scary future, but she wasn’t about to do the same thing. Her love for him was every bit as important as the air she breathed, and if she was going to stare cancer in the eye again, she needed him by her side.
That was, after all, what love was all about.
* * *
Russ could see her turning things over in her mind. Hopefully, she understood why he’d made the choice to go.
Instead of doing the honorable thing and making her leave, he wanted to pull her into his arms and soothe away the hurt he’d clearly caused her.
But one thing kept intruding, crowding to the front of his brain. “Josie, what did you mean about a biopsy?”
When she didn’t answer right away, Russ’s concern grew. She finally let out a sigh. “I’ve had some…bad test results.”
His heart started pounding like a jackhammer, and his stomach plummeted to his feet. He’d been so concerned about his own potential future, he’d selfishly ignored hers. She was a leukemia survivor, but that was no guarantee that the disease wouldn’t come back. “Oh my God. Is it…? Do you have…?”
“I don’t know,” she replied as though following his thoughts. “I’m waiting on some more blood tests.” She picked up his hand and led it to her throat. “Right now, all I do know is that my thyroid is swollen.”
Thyroid? As he stroked her slender neck, his fingers found a small bump. Surely something that tiny couldn’t be a threat to his beautiful Josie.
Ah, but cancer started as one cell, didn’t it?
Her chocolate eyes searched his. “You still love me.”
In a voice choked with emotion, Russ reaffirmed what had always been in his heart. “I will always love you.”
Joslynn took both his hands in hers. “Then what you should’ve known was that neither of us should ever go through something bad alone.”