BLISS LANE [BOOK II] | JENLISA

SIXTY-ONE

LISA

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2022

"THE TESTS show your mesothelioma has spread."

Any happy feelings I had from watching my daughter come into the world popped like a shitty balloon.

I balled my hands. "It's not mine. It's never been mine. I didn't fucking want it in the first place."

"Sorry. Bad phrasing." Rick had the decency to look apologetic, his white lab coat bright on my over-stretched senses. "But it doesn't change facts. The tumours have increased. You're no longer stage one."

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

The entire time I'd been subjected to yet more tests, I'd refused to sit down, but now, I tumbled into a chair in front of Rick Mackenzie's desk. He'd come in especially to oversee my results, seeking an answer to why I'd fallen unconscious in the pasture.

All I could remember was struggling to breathe.

And then...nothing.

"Did you hear me, Lisa?" he asked gently.

I nodded, leaning forward and wedging my elbows on my knees. "Yes, I heard you." My voice was barely audible, not prepared to accept such things.

How could a single day hold the highest of highs and lowest of lows?

After Jennie had given birth and Lili had been cleaned, weighed, and returned, the hospital staff had ensured Jennie was comfortable, helped dress her in a clean gown, and wheeled her to maternity where she'd earned a much-needed rest.

I'd ignored the annoyingly persistent doctors about heading to oncology while Lili underwent her own tests-seeing as she was premature. She was carefully checked, just to make sure she was in working order.

And thank God, everything functioned as it should.

She was a robust little thing.

Only once Lili and Jennie were asleep, and wouldn't know any better, did I take the lift to the level where permanent sickness slinked down the corridors and death slithered on the air, trawling the wards for its next victim.

I despised this place.

I despised it even more after coming from maternity where the flapping of cranes could still be heard from dropping off new-borns, bringing new life to every corner.

My chest ached as I coughed.

Rick's forehead furrowed. "Cough up any blood lately?"

"No." I sat taller, straightening my torso for a better breath. "Not since that first time. Think I'd just irritated my throat."

Rick nodded, studying my file that had grown rather comprehensive. He slouched, running a hand through his salt and pepper hair. "As a doctor, I know these things happen and this was an inevitability, but as your friend, I can't help feeling like I let you down."

I narrowed my eyes. "Why do you say that?"

"You were responding so well to Keytruda. We should've just kept you on it."

"Yeah, but I'd gone stable." I didn't know why I was arguing or trying to make him feel better. I guessed I didn't want him feeling as wretched about this as I did.

How the hell would I tell Jennie?

How would I admit that the past year-running full tilt into our future with houses and businesses and babies might be one of our last? I'd worked my damnedest to get things sorted. I'd arranged my funeral and paid for it behind Jennie's back. I'd taken out life insurance on myself in Jennie's name to cover the cost of our mortgage with enough left to send Lili to school. The fine print had been exhausting with my diagnosis but as long as I lived seven years, they'd pay out. If I didn't...I'd have to look at alternatives.