I’m not okay with what’s happening to me. No one in my shoes ever is, but I can accept my fate and move on. Control is something I’ve always needed, and I feel like I’ve started to get it back slowly. Although I can’t wave a magic wand and make myself better, I can take control of my treatment.

The fifth round of chemo goes easier than I expected. Even afterward, I don’t get as sick as I have before. I don’t know if my insides are dead and the chemo just isn’t packing as big of a punch or if I’ve grown used to feeling sick.

Bruno waits with me for a couple of hours after we get home. He watches for any sign that I’m getting sick, but it doesn’t happen. Just after eight, Becca shows up at my door and they swap places.

“So that’s how this is going to go?” I ask as she walks in and tosses her purse on the counter.

She touches her chest and laughs. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You two are ganging up on me¸ Bec.”

“He’s just worried and so am I. I figured he’d open the door for me when you wouldn’t.” She sticks out her tongue.

“I would’ve.” I smile innocently.

She sits next to me, almost collapsing. “You lie, but I love you anyway. B called me and told me to come hang out while he went to work.”

“Oh, he did, did he?” I cross my arms and think of ways I can make him pay later. Who am I kidding? This is Bruno. “You’re calling him B now?”

She chuckles, blushing slightly. “It’s weird, isn’t it? Don’t even get me started on the fact that I said he had to go to work like he has a real job.”

I giggle, softly at first before it grows louder. “I tried to guess what he did today. Epic fail.”

“Oh my God.” Her mouth hangs open.

“Yep. I ran out of options in the criminal world.”

“Do you think he’d actually tell you?” She looks at me as if I’m insane. I’ve been getting that look a lot lately.

I shrug through my laughter, recalling how he reacted to the pimp comment. The man can scare the bejesus out of people, but when he laughs, nothing is more mesmerizing and beautiful than he is.

“Jesus, how did I not notice?” She smacks herself in the head. “You look amazing, Cal.” She reaches out and touches the ends of my hair, rubbing them. “It’s so real.”

“That’s because it is, dork.” I bat her hand away. “What’s new in Becca’s world?”

“Not much. Still single and lonely, working more hours than I care to admit. But other than that, just great,” she says sarcastically. “How about you?”

“Well, Bruno has decided I can no longer be trusted with my own care. But I have to admit, Bec, I feel better than I have in a while.”

“Yeah?” she asks with excitement.

“I don’t mean I feel amazing physically, but I feel like I can actually beat it.”

“Bruno.” She sighs.

“He’s one reason why. There’s something about him. I don’t understand it.”

“Me either. Maybe he just scares you so much that you forget about the cancer.”

He did scare me, but that was ages ago. Maybe I never was afraid of him; I honestly can’t remember what put me off before. “Did you know I fucked him?”

“Ah, yeah. That happened a few weeks ago. I’m not an idiot.” She rolls her eyes.

I shake my head vigorously. “No. No. Like a long time ago!”

She hits my leg and gasps. “Get the fuck out of here! When?”

“New Year’s Eve a couple of years ago. He told me about it last night. What the fuck? I don’t even remember. I knew I was drunk, but not so drunk I’d forget fucking him.”

“Fuck,” she hisses. “I wouldn’t forget a second of that man inside me.”

“Um,” I mumble, feeling a bit awkward and possessive of Bruno. “TMI.”

“How is he?” She bounces on the couch.

My body feels weightless and my hands tingle. Not because I’m thinking about fucking him, but because this feels like the old us—the pre-cancer us. We are best friends. She’s the one person in my life I can confide in and not be judged. Everything about today feels right. “Great.”

She grabs my face and comes really close. “A girl does not just say ‘great’ when talking about sleeping with Bruno. I want the details, Cal. It’s only fair.”

She holds my face so tightly I make guppy lips when I speak. “How is that fair?”

“’Cause I tell you everything.” She releases me and crosses her hands on her lap as if we are talking about shoes.

My eyes grow wide and wild. “You lie.”

“I told you about Jason and that thing he did with his tongue.”

I wince and hold my hand up. “Don’t repeat it.”

“You’ll never understand.”

“I’m good.”

“But I share.”

She does and so do I, but I’m not willing to talk about Bruno. Not even with Becca. “I do too. I’m thirsty. Can you make me some tea?” I ask, touching my neck and praying she falls for it.

“Anything you want.” She gets up and heads toward the kitchen but stops in the doorway. “We’re not through talking about him, though. Just so you know.”

I nod and smile, but I don’t plan to tell her anything. Some things are better left unsaid. Bruno has a reputation to uphold, and although I love Becca, she can be a blabbermouth. No one on the street needs to know about the other side, the only one I know, of the man—not even Becca.

By the time she walks back into the living room with my favorite Twinings tea in her hand, The Voice has started. It’s our guilty pleasure. If we aren’t together when it’s on, we text the entire time like teenagers. The timing works out perfectly. We sit in silence and chatter about the contestants during the commercials.

When the front door opens and closes, I glance at the clock. The show has only five minutes left, and there is no way Bec can ask me about Bruno with him here. I smile and do the happy dance inside.

“What are you ladies up to?” he asks as he strides into the living room.

“Shh!” Becca blurts without looking away from the television.

He puts his arm around me and places his mouth next to my ear when he sits. “She takes this kinda serious, doesn’t she?” he whispers and rests his hand against my shoulder.

“Yep. Shh,” I tell him because so do I.

He kicks off his boots and sets his feet on the coffee table before relaxing into the couch next to me. I put my head on his shoulder and watch the final person sing. The song is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes. She sings part of “Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera. Every word of that song reminds me of the last month. The way I’ve struggled with my self-image from the chemo, and how my entire outlook on life has changed. I’m not the same person. I’m better than she had ever been. Every word speaks to me.

Bruno wipes a tear from my cheek as it trickles down, stopping it before it drops onto my chest. I give him a small smile because I can see the concern in his eyes. He probably isn’t listening to the words or doesn’t understand how they impact me, but they do.

“That was amazing.” Becca starts to clap.

“Yeah.” I swallow down the lump.

“She was okay.” Bruno plays it cool. I can tell this isn’t his type of show, but even someone who has never watched it can appreciate the beauty of a song sung by someone with a killer voice.

Reaching over, I grab his hand and hold on tight. He was only away for a few hours, but I still missed him. My days and nights are easier since I know he’ll be there with me. He is there for the good, the bad, and definitely the ugly.

“You two probably want to be alone, huh?” Becca looks over at me.

When I glance at her, she winks. “You can stay,” I lie. I want to be alone with him, and I figure if she stays, this will turn into an interrogation. Although I love them both for different reasons, their worlds don’t mix.

“Thanks, B,” Bruno says.

I have to hide my laughter. They both call each other B. It’s kind of cute and nauseating at the same time.

Becca kisses me good-bye and I thought she’d just shake Bruno’s hand, but she doesn’t. To my shock, she hugs him and whispers in his ear. He laughs, she smiles, and I’m lost as he walks her to the door. They’ve formed a friendship without me knowing, but I know I’m their commonality.

When she leaves, he strolls into the living room and leaves me by the front door, scratching my head in confusion. “What did she say to you?” I asked.

“Nothing.” He sits on the couch with his arms outstretched and a huge smile on his face. His dark eyes twinkle with playfulness.

My eyes narrow and I know they aren’t telling me something. “What are you two up to?” My hands instinctively land on my hips and my entire body screams bullshit.

“Seriously. We’re not up to anything.” He pats the cushion next to him and glances at it, waiting for me. “Come here.”

I shake my head. “Nope. Not until you tell me what she said.”

He looks me straight in the eye. “She said to fuck you good tonight.”

My mouth hangs open and I blink. “Well.” I clear my throat and blink again. Would Becca really say that to him…? Nah. “You’re lying.”

He motions for me to come hither. “Kiss me and I’ll tell you.”

“It’s that easy?” I take a step forward.

“Yep.”

I stop and stand about three feet away and study him. “It’s a trick, isn’t it?”

He tilts his head and grins. “How could a kiss be a trick?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out a way.”

“Get your fine ass over here and kiss me, Cal.”

I close the distance between us and think about how lucky I am. Crawling into his lap, I straddle him and look into his eyes. He stares back before placing my face in his hands and kissing me. Softly at first before turning it into something more demanding and soulful.

“Bruno,” I murmur between breaths.

“Shh. No sex. We’re just kissing,” he tells me and goes back to kissing me.

Relief floods me. Although I feel good, I’m not ready to be with him again. My body isn’t ready for it. My head would be on board, but the rest of me isn’t there. Chemo did that to me. Every inch of sexiness I felt has evaporated and my libido has vanished.

Being in his arms with him between my legs, kissing me, feels better than anything. His emotions pass from his lips, and I feel them in my soul. We stay like this for a long while until he lifts me into his arms and carries me to bed.

“Bruno,” I whisper after lying in bed for over an hour, unable to sleep. I wouldn’t normally wake him, but I know he isn’t sleeping either. His breathing hasn’t changed and his fingers are still stroking my arm with his body curled against my back.

“Yeah?” He rolls onto his back, taking me with him.

I curl into his side and glance up at him in the darkness. Just the outline of his face is visible in the moonlight. “Do you think there’s anything after this?”

“I’m hoping breakfast.”

I slap his chest. “I’m being serious.”

His hand covers mine, holding it against his chest. “I don’t think about it too much.”

“Do you believe in God?” I’ve never thought about it either. After losing my mom, I stopped believing. If there were some supreme being, why would he or she allow so much suffering?

“I was raised Catholic.”

“We were all raised something.”

I stroke his chest while he holds my hand against him. “I hadn’t prayed in years. When Lee got sick, I found myself turning to God to make her better.”

My smile is small and soft. “I think everyone does in a time of need.”

“Maybe.” He kisses my forehead tenderly and lets his lips linger.

“You know what scares me more than dying?” I ask because I have to tell someone. Holding secrets and fears to myself has eaten at me since the day I heard that cancer was growing inside me.

“What?” he murmurs against my skin.

“That when we die there’s nothing afterward. Like when you’re asleep and not dreaming. Just darkness. You don’t exist anymore. It scares me to death, Bruno.”

“Baby,” he whispers and pulls me closer to his body. “I don’t believe that’s what it’s like.”

“You don’t?” I’m shocked.

“I don’t.” His hand glides across my back.

“Huh,” I mumble.

“Life seems pointless without something more.”

“I wish I could believe,” I admit and lace my fingers with his against his chest.

“What makes you doubt it?”

I nuzzle my face against his skin, capturing his warmth, and I wish I could crawl inside him. Everything about him makes me feel comfortable. Like I could face anything in the world as long as he is with me. “When I lost my mom, I lost any faith I had.”

His fingers flex in mine and tuck under my palm. “Yeah, I can understand that. I felt that way when I lost Maggie and our unborn child.”

“There’s just so much sadness in the world that it’s hard for me to believe it’s all part of some plan.”

“I think that without the struggles in life, we wouldn’t savor the beautiful things. Nothing would be as sweet if it weren’t for the bad.”

“I don’t know.” I chew on the inside of my lip.

“Like without the darkness, the sunrise wouldn’t be as spectacular, Cal. The color wouldn’t be as brilliant. You know?”

Who the hell is this man? No one with his nickname talks like that. How can he believe in God, in the beauty of the world, and possibly murder people? What am I talking about? I have no idea what he does, but it’s something he isn’t willing to divulge.

“Can we watch the sunrise?” I ask and stop trying to figure him out.

“I couldn’t think of anything more perfect.”

“In the morning?” I relax into him.

“I’ll wake you up,” he says, leaning forward to kiss me. I move my face and kiss him first. He makes me happy.

As I lie there, waiting for sleep to take me, I feel completely at peace. There’s no inner turmoil, no fear of sleep or death. Just pure happiness. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve thought about cancer in the last twenty-four hours. Instead of becoming the crippling factor in my day, it has become a second thought. There’s too much good to fear the what-if.