Kayla

I wasn’t expecting Cayson to make it back from the airport so quickly, but I should have known better. Usually, the second and third day after chemo are the worst, when I’m the sickest. I didn’t want to see him, not like this, but Patricia, Brenda, and Mom all ganged up on me yesterday and said I needed to bite the bullet and finally tell Cayson.

Two days after he left for Paris, I received the results of my mammogram only to find out that I had breast cancer. When the doctor felt a lump during my most recent wellness exam, I wasn’t worried. I’m in my twenties, and I was prone to having fibrocystic cysts, and they always went away. But this time, there was a concern in my doctor's tone when she suggested I have a mammogram done. I guess cancer doesn’t understand age restrictions. We all agreed that we would keep this a secret until Cayson returned to the U.S. There was nothing he could do, so why disrupt his tour? I knew that to keep my secret, our FaceTime calls had to come to a stop once the chemo treatments started and had their effect on me. I was comforted by the knowledge that if Cayson knew, he would be by my side immediately, but it also became a burden as well because I didn’t need him causing problems with the label by calling off the remainder of the tour.

As I empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet, I hear his deep, booming voice. “What the fuck, Kayla?” It isn’t anger I hear in his tone; no, it’s more one of concern.

When Cayson drops to his knees beside me and reaches out to pull my hair back, I throw out my hand to stop him. “Don’t, please don’t touch me.”

“Kayla, what’s wrong, princess? What can I do to help?” There is so much distress and worry in his words that I start to cry.

“Just go wait for me in the living room, please, Cayson. Give me some time. I promise to answer all your questions then.”

Once Cayson is out of the room, I flush the toilet and then lower my head to rest on my forearm. I’m dreading the conversation we need to have. Closing my eyes, I think back to when the only concern in my life was what flavor coffee creamer I was going to use that day. Oh, how things have changed. Once the nauseous feeling has left my body, I stand and look at myself in the mirror. What I see is a shell of the person I once was. The dark purple circles under my eyes and the bags from lack of sleep stand out in contrast to my pasty-white skin. This is not going to be an easy conversation to have.

When I step out of the bathroom, I’m startled to see Cayson sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. His elbows are resting on his thighs. He’s deep in thought, not aware that I’m standing there. His brown hair is mussed from running his hands through it. When he lifts his head, his beautiful, pain-stricken blue eyes lock with mine as he pats the bed next to him. I move to sit beside him, and his rose-tattooed hand moves to rest on my knee, squeezing it lightly. “Tell me what’s going on, Kayla.” His voice is laced with angst as he speaks.

“I’m so sorry, Cayson. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I couldn’t tell you, not while you were on the road.” I pause for a moment trying to build the courage to continue. “I found out several days after you left that there was an abnormality on my mammogram. It was enough for my doctor to refer me to a specialist. I never expected to hear I have cancer.“

Cayson's arms wrap around me tightly, pulling me into his side as he whispers in my ear, “I’m so sorry, princess.”

I feel safe in his arms, like nothing bad can happen as long as he ‘s there holding me. Keeping me safe. “I was in shock at first. I couldn’t believe it was true. It didn’t really hit me until I sat at Mom’s kitchen table and watched as she began to cry. I knew it was real then. Nothing ever worries my mom, but right then, worry was all I saw in her eyes.”

Cayson’s lips move to my forehead and kiss me gently, giving me the strength to continue. “Mom and I cried together as we held each other. Then she stood up, grabbed the phone, and made two phone calls. I bet you can’t guess who those calls were to.”

I hear the chuckle come from Cayson’s mouth and feel the vibration of his body moving. “She called my mom and Patricia, didn’t she? I can’t believe they’ve been friends all these years, and I never knew you existed until the day you walked onto my bus.” I don’t even have to confirm his question; we both know those three women are thick as thieves. They are college friends and best of buddies. If one has a crisis, they all have a crisis. These three women are inseparable and are always there to support each other.

I can’t hold back any longer, and the tears begin to fall. “Within an hour, I had all three of them by my side. Your mom was amazing, Cayson. She made a phone call to your uncle, and the next thing I knew, I had an appointment the next day. I didn’t know your uncle was an oncologist, though. I mean, I knew he was a doctor, but what were the odds? When I met with your uncle the next day, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he made it all seem so unscary.”

Cayson stands and starts pacing the room. “I should have been here with you, Kayla. You shouldn’t have had to go through this alone.” His pacing stops once he’s back in front of me.

“I wasn’t alone, Cayson. Every appointment, every treatment, your mom and my mom were right there with me. I think Patricia felt left out, but that was only because she had a full plate at work. I’m sure if she could have been there, she would have.”

Cayson drops to his knees in front of me, anger and hurt filling his eyes. “I can’t fucking believe my mom was there for all of this and never once thought it was important to tell me. She knows how I feel about you. She should have told me even if you had no intention of doing so.”

“It wasn’t that I had no intention of telling you, Cayson. It was just not the right time. There was nothing you could have done. I had all the support I needed at the time, and telling you wouldn’t have made it go away or made it any better.”

“You took away my ability to be there for you, Kayla. We’re supposed to be building something together. I would have come home between stops to be with you. Did Sean know this was going on?”

I raise a penciled eyebrow at him. “Of course he knew. That is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t need you changing anything in your schedule for me. If things had gotten worse, Sean would have told you and made sure you got home to me. I promise.”

Cayson stands from the floor and walks over to the window, staring outside. “So, how bad is it? What is our next step?”

I have to be gentle with how I word the next bit of our conversation. I know Cayson is on edge. I took away his ability to deal with what I’ve been going through by keeping him in the dark. Whereas I’ve had months to come to terms with everything, he is just now learning of it.

“My next step.” I put emphasis being on the word “my,” because I’m the one going through this. “My next step is surgery. The lump has shrunk substantially, so in three weeks, the surgeon will remove it.”

Cayson turns from the window, walking over to the bed and sitting beside me. “I want to be there for your surgery.”

“No.” You would think I slapped Cayson in the face when I said it. He immediately pulls back from me while hurt fills his eyes. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want you there. I do, but you have an obligation to the label and your fans.”

“Fuck my fans.”

“Stop, Cayson, you don’t mean that.”

“I do mean it, Kayla. Look, my fans are just that. Fans. They’ll come and go throughout my career, but you, you, however, are my present and my future. You took away my ability to be there for you while you went through chemo, but you won’t take away my ability to be there for you now and moving forward.”

“You want to know how you can be there for me, Cayson?”

“Of course.”

“Spend the next forty-eight hours just being with me and then get on that bus and head to New York. Give them the best damn concert there is and finish out the rest of your tour. That’s what you can do for me, Cayson.”