Chapter Thirty Four*

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"Ms. Hayes, Doctor Greenway is ready to see you now," the petite, blonde nurse says from the entrance of the waiting room.

I take in a deep breath and nod. Here goes nothing.

I follow the nurse through the hallway where she leads me into a small room. I sit on the chair and the nurse tells me the doctor will meet with me shortly.

I should smile to be polite, but I just can't force it. This situation could not get any worse, and I'm finding it hard to stay positive these days.

As I wait there (impatiently) to hear my fate, I pick at the polish on my nails. My anxiety is at an all time high, and the fact that I have the same cancer as my mother has me thinking a lot about her. I miss her so much, and without Harry around, it's difficult to cope.

Just when I feel like crying, Doctor Greenway enters the room with a sad, knowing smile on his face. He takes a seat in the open chair and writes something down on his tablet.

"How are you doing today, Chloe?"

I laugh once. "As good as I can be, I suppose."

"Well let's get right to it. We're lucky we caught this so early. I won't lie and promise you anything, but the chances of beating this are much greater. Of course, there is still a chance of..." He pauses noticing my expression and shakes his head. "Let's stay positive. I'd like to start you on a few new medications and we'll go from there."

All I do is nod. He begins filling out a sheet of paper for my prescription and goes over the side effects. His words begin to blur together when I zone out. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I have cancer. The same cancer that my mom had. The cancer that killed her.

What is my fate?

"In a week's time, we'll get you back in here and test your blood. We'll be able to determine what next steps to take."

"Thanks," I say as he hands me the prescription. "I'll see you next week."

He nods. "Stay positive, Chloe."

After I fill my prescriptions, I head straight home. I contemplated visiting Harry at the rehab center, but I just couldn't face him. I haven't seen him in a week, and it's killing me, but I just can't go.

I'm doing it for him though, I tell myself. If I tell him what's going on with me, he'll worry too much. He needs to focus on himself in order to get better, and I can't put this burden on him. Perhaps once he's out of there we can talk, but for now, we need space.

I'm actually surprised he hasn't tried to call me or anything yet. He isn't allowed to have his cell phone there, but I find it weird that he hasn't had Anne ask me where I've been. I wonder how he's doing. I could ask Anne, but then she'll ask me why I haven't visited him, and I'm not ready to tell her what's going on either.

Later that day, the effects of my new medication hits me. I feel groggy and weak. I decide to skip dinner and fix myself a cup a tea. I grab my journal and tea and head to the porch and decide to write for a little bit. I've been in my feelings all day, and I think, well I hope, writing will help.

Once I become to tired to even write anymore, I watch the waves crash onto the beach. The sounds are peaceful, and it brings me back to one of my favorite nights on the beach with Harry.

"Baby, you're killing me," Harry groans when I pull my tank top off, revealing my latest purchase from Victoria's Secret: a black bikini.

"You love it," I smirk and head for the water.

"Damn right I do. That's probably an understatement though," he says as he removes his own shirt, leaving him only in his swim trunks. I take in his beautiful, toned, inked torso. "Last one in owes the winner a back massage."

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