Her mother turned as Eden joined her in the waiting room, and it only took her a half second to react to the expression on her daughter’s face. Mom choked on a cry, and Eden let herself be wrapped in her mother’s embrace, crushing in her fist the pamphlets the nurse had given her.

She’d psyched herself so many times for this moment—how she’d handle it, what her decisions would be. Still, the earth cracked open when the doctor pulled up a chair and said, “I have bad news.”

Her concrete wall of denial crashed to the ground, leaving her choking on its dust.

“I’m going in there to talk to that doctor,” Mom said in a strangled voice.

Her mother’s words broke through Eden’s shock, and the first tears began to fall. “I was so stupid.”

“You did everything right, and we’re going to fix this.”

“I never meant for you to find out about Darak. I just wanted to be happy for a little while and not think about…this.” The cloying sweetness of the receptionist’s flowers stuck in her throat.

“I don’t care about that,” her mother cooed, smoothing Eden’s hair. “You’re young. Of course you would want a boyfriend.”

“But I went behind your back.” Her chest squeezed as she realized just half an hour ago she’d been a jerk to her mom, really hurt her. How could she ask to have all that mothering back now?

“It doesn’t matter anymore. What we need to focus on now is your treatment.”

Treatment? The weight of the word mashed her into the industrial carpet. Stomach churning, she ripped herself free.

“Eden, what…”

Clapping a hand over her mouth, she bolted for the restroom. She made it as far as the doorway before the first of her breakfast shot up her throat.

After, Eden rinsed her mouth out in the sink and wiped her face with a damp paper towel. The old routine came back too easily, and despair swept through her anew. She couldn’t do this again. She just couldn’t.

Inspecting her bloodshot eyes, she scraped her hair back from her face. The top layer was four inches long, at least. Why hadn’t she appreciated it? Short and unromantic. So what? It was there! It was life, and in a few weeks it would be gone. It was unlikely she’d ever see it again. And as for Darak…

No. No. Eden felt a scream swell inside her. It was not fair. Not when she’d decided what she wanted in life.

She crumpled the towel. The door loomed large and menacing, like a portal to a reality she could not accept. Once she went back out there, the cancer would be real. I’m done here, she thought, but her knees refused to bend.

There would be her mother’s hysteria, of course. And she’d have to go over all the treatment options that were never going to save her—you didn’t survive this thing twice. Stem cell transplants, white blood cell counts, chemo… Her hands shook as she returned her attention to the mirror and wiped away the final smudges of eyeliner.

A squirting noise sounded from above, followed by the scent of antiseptic lemons, and suddenly she couldn’t get out of the room fast enough.

Her mother stood waiting for her just outside.

“Were you sick? How do you feel?”

“Tired.” She bit both lips, holding back the torrent of emotions that threatened to erupt. “Can we go see Dad?”

“We need to talk to the doctor about your options.”

“Not before Dad.”

“The sooner we get started, the sooner we can fix this.”

“No!” Fix this? The survival rate of a second round was pathetic. She shrugged herself free. “I don’t want that right now. I can call tomorrow.”

The TV droned in the background—a talk show host stabbing his combative guests with criticism and fake sympathy, as though today was judgment day and he was God. Who did he think he was? And where was the real God—that being of love and kindness? What had he ever done for her? A shriek rose in her chest, and she clenched her jaw and shoulders against it.

Mom’s brow creased as she nodded shortly. “Your father has office hours right now. We can be there before they’re over.”

Acute myeloid leukemia, she thought as she followed her mother down the hall. Mental images of MRI machines and hypodermic needles lay before her like a knee-deep layer of sludge, and Eden allowed her mom guide her out of the patient center. Already her mother was taking over, but despair and helplessness were written in the curve of her back. It would be the same with her dad. Her parents weren’t trained for crisis management. They were academics. What if her latest emergency gave one of them a heart attack? Eden’s stomach pinched and rolled.

“Tell me about Darak. Is he a nice boy?” her mom asked back in the car. Her neck sagged in wrinkled folds, like a woman three times her age.

Gripping the sides of her seat, Eden focused her gaze out the car window. Her faint reflection in the glass enforced the separation between her and the deep emerald greens of spring. Eden felt winter creep into her cells as she swallowed. “He’s the best.”

“It’s good that you have him.”

“He doesn’t know anything about the…my cancer.” She was supposed to see him tonight and be all lovey. How could she kiss him like nothing was wrong when this terrible thing infested her blood? She couldn’t tell him. Like everyone else she knew, he’d see cancer every time he looked at her instead of a sexy girl.

Still, she yearned for him to wrap her in his arms and squeeze away the horror. But there was nothing he could do to help her—nothing anyone could do.

I have to let him go. She clutched her middle, her shoulders curling in over her chest. Darak had never belonged in this part of her life; she’d ruin his just as she’d ruined her family’s. These were people she loved, and she had to make it as easy on them as she could. She couldn’t spare her parents, but she could spare him.

She’d break it off tonight.