Dusk & Dawn

Chapter 45

Mason

"Mase? You coming?" Quinn held her arm in front of the closing elevator doors. I nodded and stepped inside. Luckily, it was a sleek, modern elevator. Those old ones always gave me the creeps, reminding me of scenes from that Keanu Reeves movie, Speed, where people get stuck in an elevator. But I swallowed my unease and went along with it.

When the elevator doors opened, Quinn led the way through the sterile corridors to a waiting area with a sign that read "Haematology."
"Hey Jan, how are you?" Quinn asked the elderly woman at the front desk.
"Quinn, sweetheart, I'm fabulous. I actually went to that massage place you recommended. Oh my god, she has magic hands! You were absolutely right," Jan replied, beaming as she removed her glasses and placed them on the desk in front of her.
"Is John working today?" Quinn asked, leaning casually on the desk. She seemed so comfortable here.

Well, maybe she doesn't need me to comfort her after all.

I stood there in awe, watching her and stealing discreet glances. Her jeans hugged her curves perfectly, and it was impossible not to feel a surge of desire.

Damn, what's wrong with me? Getting turned on in a hospital? Well, she is incredibly sexy. I can't help being infatuated with her.

"Yes, he's in today, dear. Just go on through, he'll be with you shortly," Jan replied, pointing her pen toward the door beside the waiting room, labelled "Consultation A" in bold black letters.

Quinn grabbed my hand, intertwining our fingers, and led me through the chairs toward the door. As we turned, we came face to face with a woman holding a clipboard and dressed in navy scrubs.
"Quinn? Who's your boyfriend?" she asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.
"He's my friend, Lilian." Quinn shot her an icy stare, but Lilian smirked
"Well, I sure would like a 'friend' like that. You lucky girl." Lilian said, tapping Quinn lightly on the head with her pen. It was clear they knew each other.
"Oh, sorry. This is Mason. Mason, this is Lil. She's a radiographer." Quinn introduced us, holding out her hands. I reached out and shook Lil's hand, offering a polite greeting.

"You watch this one Mason, she's a little pocket rocket." Lil said, tilting her head toward Quinn. I frowned, wondering what she meant. Quinn seemed like a goody two shoes, at least from what I had observed, aside from her tattoos, of course. But that didn't change my opinion of her.

Lil crossed her arms and shook her head at Quinn.
"You haven't told him yet have you?" Lil said, trying to hide her smile while maintaining a serious expression.
"Well, I..." Quinn started, her cheeks turning a rosy shade, which I found incredibly cute.
"Well, let me enlighten you, Mr. Mason. Whenever Quinn comes to the hospital, the staff always refers to her as the 'party girl,' and whatever room she's assigned is nicknamed 'the party room.' When she was admitted on her 18th birthday and stayed for three days, there was non-stop music blasting from her room, whether it was her CD player or her playing the guitar. And when she wasn't in her room, she'd make the rounds, playing music for the other patients. I swear, some of them experienced miraculous recoveries when she was here," Lil said, grinning fondly at Quinn, who now had her hands in her pockets and a tight, embarrassed smile on her face.

Quinn was a patient? But that was back when she was 18. I wonder why she had to come to the hospital. Has she been volunteering? Maybe those "errands" were related to this. She's too modest to tell anyone for sure.

A weight lifted off my chest as I finally realized the reason for our visit.

"Well, she's in good hands now, don't you worry," I assured the nurse, pulling her hand out of her pocket and intertwining our fingers. The heat radiating from her was intoxicating, and her scent drove me wild. All I wanted was to find the nearest empty room so I could passionately kiss those irresistibly beautiful lips of hers. Hearing about her past only made me love her even more.

"Thank you, Lil for the lecture." Quinn laughed.
"But we better not keep John waiting. I need to see him." Quinn waved to Lil as we made our way to the consultation room.
"Good luck," Lil called after us as Quinn's feet shuffled closer to the door. Once inside, she closed the door and leaned her back against it, her eyes closed. Her breathing was uneven, and her cheeks were still flushed. We had some alone time before anyone else arrived, so I took the opportunity to talk to her.

"So you were a patient when you were 18?" I asked, taking a seat on an armchair directly across from the desk. Quinn's lips tightened, and she nodded slowly. Her sea green eyes stared at me, as if waiting for me to bombard her with questions. I knew that would overwhelm her, so I restrained myself. She wasn't going anywhere. We had the entire weekend to talk.

"Quinn, you don't have to tell me anything." I said, raising my hands in surrender. I wanted her to know that she held all the power.
"You can tell me in your own time. I'm just here to be supportive, okay?" I stood up and walked toward her, still leaning against the door. I gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her dark lashes and pressed my forehead against hers.
"I'll be whatever you need me to be." I whispered, unable to slow my racing heart. The closeness between us made me feel like a protective alpha.

A sharp knock on the door startled us, causing us to quickly separate and retreat to our respective armchairs. Quinn stood up and shook the man's hand. He was a slender man with short white hair and kind grey eyes. Quinn introduced us as we all took our seats.

I couldn't understand why we were in a consultation room. I tried to quiet my mind, which always raced through various scenarios whenever I found myself in an unpredictable situation.

"So Quinn, how have you been feeling?" John asked, his gaze fixed on his notepad as he scribbled notes.
"Well... My stitches healed nicely. I got them removed last week, and I haven't had any issues," she replied, her voice strong and unwavering. I watched her closely as John's pen moved fluidly across the paper. Quinn sat up straight and turned to look at me. I flashed her a sideways smile, and she returned it.

How did I not know about her stitches? How did I not know the reason she needed them? Where was I? How could I have been so oblivious? 

I cursed myself internally for my selfishness.

"Good. It's been five years since you completed chemotherapy, so we'll schedule a CAT scan to monitor your remission," John said, and Quinn sat in silence, nodding attentively. My insides twisted and knotted at the thought of Quinn going through chemotherapy. 

"As for the biopsy results on the ovarian tissue..." John tapped away on his computer, squinting as he searched the screen.
"I'm afraid the news isn't what we hoped for." The room fell silent as we waited for him to continue. I took her hand and gently kissed it. I didn't know what to do, but I wanted to stay strong for her.
"The test results came back conclusive. I'm sorry, Quinn, but you have ovarian cancer. It seems to be a secondary cancer to your initial lymphoma, so we'll have to start treatment as early as next week." John's eyes were filled with sorrow for Quinn. All I could think about was how I was going to help her through this. When my parents died, I was only ten years old and incapable of emotionally or mentally caring for them. But now, at twenty-two, I had the chance to show what I was truly made of.

A solitary tear rolled down Quinn's cheek before she hastily wiped it away with her sleeve. "That's alright, John. I've beaten cancer once before, so I can do it again. Maybe we can set a new record for the fastest remission," Quinn smiled genuinely. Then she turned to me, rubbing her thumb soothingly on the back of my hand. I was in awe of this woman. Her strength reminded me so much of my mother's.