Cayson

When my eyes open, it’s afternoon. This is pretty much normal for me, but not so normal for Kayla. With my arms still wrapped around her tightly, I begin to lightly stroke up and down her arm, enjoying the feel of her against me. I lie like this for a bit longer, just enjoying the normality of life outside of the limelight. This is what it could be like with Kayla at my side, right? Then my reality is shattered when it hits me that I don’t know how serious this whole cancer thing is. The quirky little snores that fill the room tell me Kayla isn’t waking anytime soon, and if I want answers now, I need to seek them elsewhere.

The phone rings three times before my mom answers. “Well, good morning, son.” Her voice is as happy as ever.

The fact that she is happy irritates me. After all, she’s known all along what Kayla was going through, yet she didn’t find it necessary to tell me. She kept something hugely important from me knowing how I feel about Kayla, so my tone is anything less than pleasant when I respond.

“You knew, but yet you chose not to tell me. Why?” I’m so angry with her right now that I want to reach through the phone and strangle my own mother.

When she responds, her voice isn’t quite so chipper anymore but rather rude. “As I said, good morning, son. I suspect this isn’t going to be a pleasant call.”

“You're damn right this isn’t a pleasant call, Mom. How could you keep Kayla’s condition a secret from me?” I bite back at her. I normally don’t disrespect my mom with rudeness, but as far as I’m concerned, she’s disrespected me.

“Cayson, I get that you are angry, but you don’t have to be disrespectful. When you’ve had a chance to come to your senses, you can call me back, and we’ll chat like adults.” Click.

She did not just hang up on me. Fuck, she did just hang up on me. “What the fuck?” I say to myself. If I weren’t still so angry, I might laugh at the fact that my mother hung up on me. Rather than dial her right back, I take a moment to breathe in and out a few times to get my temper under control. I know my mom well enough that if I haven’t calmed down by the time I call her again, I won’t get any further than I did just now.

I let thirty minutes go by before I decide it’s time to attempt to call her again. Kayla is still asleep, which is starting to worry me. After Mom hung up on me, I went back upstairs to check on my princess. I sat and watched her breathe, getting lost in the rise and fall of her chest as she slept peacefully. Just being in the same room with her was enough to calm me, but now it’s time for answers.

I pour myself a cup of coffee and dial Mom’s number once again. She answers on the third ring. “Are you ready to speak calmly now?”

“Good morning, Mom,” I say sweetly, pausing a moment to take a sip from my mug. “Please fill me in on why you didn't feel it was necessary for you to tell me what was going on with Kayla.” As I speak the words, my anger starts to build again. It takes everything in me to push that anger down long enough to get answers.

“Good morning, Cayson.” Mom’s voice is monotone, holding no emotion whatsoever. “We—and I mean we, because it was a collective decision between all of us—didn’t feel saying anything would benefit anyone at that time.” Mom clears her throat and then continues, “In hindsight now, it probably was not the best decision. I’m sorry, Cayson, you’re right. I probably should have told you.”

“You’re damn right you should have told me.” My voice is elevated, almost a yell now. I need one more deep breath to calm myself before I continue my questions. “What do I need to know, Mom. How bad is it?”

Mom tries to avoid answering the question by telling me I should be having this conversation with Kayla but then finally acquiesces after I tell her Kayla is still asleep and I’m very concerned.

“Kayla has IDC stage II. When she first found out, her tumor was around 5cm, so the doctors suggested she go through chemo first and then they could do surgery after. She’s made great progress through the chemo, Cayson. In fact, her tumor shrunk to just a little over 1cm, which means she has the option of a lumpectomy versus mastectomy.”

My head is spinning in circles right now. I have no idea what any of what she just told me means. All I want to know is if Kayla is going to be alright or not. “Mom, English, please. I need the kiddy version of what you just said.”

“Basically, Cayson, Kayla has a small remaining tumor left in her left breast which will require surgery. She just needs to decide if she is okay with removing just the remaining tumor or if she wants to remove the whole breast. Her five-year survival rate is at eighty-two percent, which is good, but there are lots of things she still needs to decide on.”

I stopped listening when Mom said eighty-two percent. All I heard is that there is still an eighteen-percent chance I could lose Kayla. I’m about to ask more questions, but I’m interrupted by the sound of Kayla coming down the hall. “Gotta go, Mom. Kayla’s up. Talk to you later.”

Pouring another cup of coffee, I turn to greet Kayla just as she enters the kitchen. The smile on her face when she sees my hand holding a cup of java for her is cute. “Mine?” she asks as she reaches for the cup in my hand. Nodding, I hand her the cup and gesture toward the table for us to take a seat. We spend the next hour talking about her cancer. My gut churns when she tells me there is a possibility that the chemo could affect her fertility down the road.

“Cayson, you should know I’m seriously considering having both of my breasts removed completely. I don’t know if I could go through this again, and if I do this, the chances of me getting breast cancer in the future are removed. It’s already rare that someone my age gets breast cancer, but it happened, and I’m really scared about the risks moving forward.”

Kayla walks to the sink and rinses out her coffee cup, then places it in the dishwasher before turning to look at me. “Are you sure you want to be stuck with a woman who has no tits?”

Her words are crude and feel like a slap in the face. “Jesus Christ, Kayla, what did you miss about last night when I said it was what’s inside of you that I’m attracted to, not the outside?”

“Cayson, there is a difference between not having hair that will someday grow back and not have a pair of tits. I want to have reconstructive surgery, but it won’t be the same. They won’t be mine, and they won’t look the same. I’ll have scars and…”

Kayla breaks down into tears and begins to sob uncontrollably. I watch as she sinks to the floor, pulling her knees tight to her chest and hiding her face behind her legs. This is some serious shit to deal with. I knew something was wrong months ago, but I never in my wildest dreams thought this would be it. We are both young, too young to have to be dealing with this much drama. I know I need to make a decision that will affect both of our futures. Kayla is giving me an opportunity, an out if you want to call it that, to walk away. I can end things today, go back out on the road and not look back, or I can stick it out with her to the end. That means the possibility of never having our own children. I know she isn’t looking that far into the future; she’s talking about the here and now, but with her, I’m always looking at the future.

I’ve been the ‘live in the moment’ guy until I met Kayla. No attachments. And honestly, I’ve never dreamt of a future with any woman because I didn’t believe in them. Then, when she walked out of my life earlier this year, I started looking at things a lot differently, and all I saw was Kayla in my future. That’s why I needed her to wait for me to finish this tour. I needed to show her that all I see is a future with her, and now the opportunity to do just that has presented itself. It’s time to lay it all out on the line.

I sit on the floor next to her and pull her into my lap, holding her while she cries. “Shhh, princess. It’s going to be okay. I promise.” My hands tighten around her.

“You don’t know that, Cayson. You don’t know if everything is going to be okay, and you can’t make promises about anything that is out of your control.” Her words are full of sadness.

My hands immediately go to her waist and spin her around until she’s straddling me. “I may not be able to control your illness, but what I can control are my promises, and I promise to be there through this whole ordeal with you.” I kiss her nose. “I promise to support you one hundred percent on any decisions you make and to be there for you to discuss those decisions with openly.” I lick the tear that falls from her right eye, and then kiss her cheek. “And I promise that if it is within in my power to make whatever it is better, I will, and you know why?”

Kayla shakes her head back and forth, indicating she doesn’t know. So that there isn’t any confusion moving forward, I tell her why. “Because I’m falling in love with you, Kayla Marshall. Hell, I might already be in love with you.” I place my hand on her heart and continue, “The real you, what’s in here, not what’s on the outside. Besides, tits are overrated.”

Kayla tosses her head back briefly and laughs. “I’m already in love with you, Cayson Razor. I fell in love with you the day we spent in bed and you opened your heart for me to see. I just didn’t want to admit it to anyone.”