To Brooklyn, With Love (Completed) - Finding You Book 2

Harrison

"Are you gonna marry Brooklyn?" Sophie asks, eyes big and round as she looks up at me. We're at the breakfast table, devouring bowls of our favorite cereal. Lately, every simple moment seems so much more important than it used to.

"I'm not sure, baby," I answer truthfully. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I like her. A lot," she smiles. "I want to keep her. I think we should,"

I want to keep both of them.

I love Brooklyn. I fell hard and fast for her, and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought of a world where the three of us live together in a nice home far, far away from our current reality. But my focus needs to remain on Sophie, and I know Brook would agree.

"Morning," Brooklyn says sleepily as she walks down the stairs in a pair of sweatpants and a Phillies' hoodie. "Any Honey O's left for me, or did you gobble them all up?" she asks Sophie, leaning down to tickle her sides.

"You're silly," Sophie giggles.

"Very silly," I add, bouncing my eyebrows as she leans down to press a kiss to my cheek. She grabs a bowl from the cabinet and as her hoodie raises, my eyes lock on that sweet, soft bare skin of the small of her back until it's hidden again.

My phone buzzes as she sits down beside me and pours a bowl of cereal for herself. Brooklyn's eyes shift to my phone screen and her hand lands on my knee. It's Sophie's doctor.

I lift the phone and begin to stand so I can head into the living room for privacy. These days it seems like nothing but bad news, and I'm doing my best to keep things positive for Sophie.

"Hello," I say nervously.

"Hello, Mr. Reid. Dr. Williams. We've got the test results back. Your daughter, Sophie, is suffering from Aplastic Anemia - her bone marrow isn't making new blood cells,"

I hear him. I hear every single damn word he's saying, but I can't process it. I can't say a word. I'm barely breathing when he continues.

"She'll need a bone marrow transplant," he says, and the air leaves my lungs. My back slides down the wall and I sit lifelessly on the floor. I want to hang up and pretend this never happened. I want to close my eyes and open them to discover this has all been a terrible nightmare. But I can't. I can't do anything but listen.

"I know this is difficult to hear," he continues. "Mr. Reid?"

"I'm here," my voice cracks. I clear my throat. I want to scream. I want to throw the phone across the room and break it. Instead, I wait as he continues.

"Will she live?" It's all I can manage. It's all I can think about.

"In Sophie's case, given her age, a bone marrow transplant is her best shot. She needs healthy cells and because she can't make them on her own, she needs a mother source. We'll need a compatible donor, and she'll need to undergo chemotherapy treatments for a few days prior, to prepare,"

Fuck. I can't think. Or breathe.

"Mr. Reid. I know it's a lot to take in. We will need to take action rather quickly in finding a match,"

Through wet, blurry eyes I see Sophie running up the stairs. She's giggling and smiling, and my heart is breaking. Brooklyn appears in the door. She sees I'm still on the phone and offers me a sad smile. She's all about giving me privacy, but all I want is her.

I can't do this alone. I cover the phone and call out to her.

She's there in an instant, sitting on the floor beside me. Her head falls on my shoulder and her hand finds mine. She doesn't know the magnitude of what the doctor has just told me. She just knows I need her. I'm not sure I've ever needed anyone more.

"Test me," I manage.

"Absolutely. Any family or friends can be tested for a match," he tells me. "But we'll want to do things rather quickly. It's the best chance,"

"But it's no guarantee. These chemicals you're going to pump into my little girl, all this shit she's going to go through...could do nothing,"

"We can't know, Mr. Reid. But if Sophie's going to beat this, she needs this transplant. There is no other way. I'm sorry. You can come down to the cancer center to be tested. In the mean time, it's best to stay calm and positive for your little girl. She needs you,"

"I need her," I manage before hanging up and dropping the phone on the floor between my raised knees. My head falls into my hands and I sob harder than I have in a long time.

I'm angry.

I'm angry at life for taking so many things away from me.

Brooklyn's arm sneaks around mine and she pulls me closer, leaning down to lift my chin. She looks into my eyes and I can feel how much she loves me. Her eyes are wet, too, and tiny tears stream down her cheeks.

"How can I help?" She asks softly.

"Sophie needs a transplant. Bone marrow. And chemo," I whisper, but my voice still cracks. "Without it, she'll die," I gasp for air and her tears fall harder. She pulls my head into her chest and holds me tightly. Her hands smooth through my hair and her lips press kisses on the top of my head over and over again. I let her hold me for what feels like forever.

I'm losing my mind. I'm losing my baby. I'm losing my life all over again.

"I'm going to take some time off work. A leave of absence. She needs me more than they do. And I'm going to be tested, but I'm terrified I won't be a match. I'm scared no one will be a match, and then what?"

"Me," she says quickly. "I want to be tested,"

I lift my head to look up at her again. She's still that tender, wonderful Brooklyn, and she's hurting right along side me. "Thank you, Brooklyn," I press my forehead against hers. "Thank you. I love you so much," I add before pressing a long kiss to her lips.

I know nothing is for certain. Neither of us could be the match. My entire family could be tested and not be a match. But it's something, and at this point, I'll try everything to save my little girl.

"I love you, Harry. No matter what happens," she says.

Her eyes flash with something I can't quite pick out, but it's gone before I can really try.