Ten days later …
Ten days had passed since I found out my ma had cancer, nine days had passed since Damien and I officially started dating, and eight days had passed since I found out the treatment plan my ma was signed up for to kick cancer’s arse as well as Branna and Ryder’s twins being born. It was Thursday, the day of her surgery to remove the peanut-size tumour from her breast, and I had never felt as sick in my entire life. I had terrible anxiety and chewed on my nails until I had none left and each of my fingers stung, while others bled.
“Alannah.” Bronagh clicked her tongue, gaining my attention. “You’re hurtin’ yourself.”
I looked at my fingers before wiping them on my leggings.
“I can’t help it.” I cleared my throat. “I feel so nervous I could be sick.”
I looked to my right when the arm around my waist squeezed me.
“She’ll be fine.”
I stared up at my boyfriend and frowned. He had taken the day off work, which worried me because Mr Collins had told him his schedule for the next few weeks was on lock, but Mr Collins allowed him to take the day to be with me. I would forever be grateful to him for that, because I needed Damien by my side.
“You don’t know that, Damien.”
He didn’t reply to that; he leaned in and kissed my cheek instead.
“When she comes out of surgery, she’s going to whoop your butt for worrying so much.”
I tried and failed to smile, so he squeezed me again. The gesture was comforting, but it was his and Bronagh’s presence that really kept my fried nerves in check. When I woke up that morning and got ready to head to the hospital to meet my parents, Damien surprised me by telling me he got the day off work to come with me, and that we had to pick Bronagh up along the way because she was coming too. I didn’t want to cry, so I hugged him with my face pressed against his chest until we had to leave.
That was three hours ago, and my ma was one hour into her surgery. The nurse I had spoken to about my ma’s lumpectomy procedure said there was no time limit because it was a very careful operation. The doctor wanted to remove as little breast tissue as possible while removing the tumour, so he had to take his time. I understood that, I encouraged that, but God above knew that the longer she was in surgery, the worse I felt.
My da seemed to share my anxiety.
He hadn’t sat down once since the doors to the operating theatre closed. All of us had the option to sit in a waiting room, but we chose to sit on the row of chairs lined up outside of the entrance to the operating theatre. My da had been pacing back and forth in front of the double doors from the moment my ma went through them. Every single time they opened, he jerked to attention, but each time, his shoulders sagged when he realised it wasn’t my ma.
He was sick with worry too, and it was the first time since I found out that he had cheated on her that I realised he still cared for her. Still loved her. The longer I stared at him, the possibility of what he had done, of it just being one huge mistake, became clear, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. I wanted to stay angry with him, it made pushing him to one side so much easier, but seeing him vulnerable as he waited on news of my ma tugged at my heartstrings.
He loved her, and I think after what he had done, he loved her even more than ever before.
“I’m makin’ some tea,” I said, standing up, causing Bronagh and Damien’s arms to fall away from me. “Do either of you want anythin’?”
“No,” they replied in unison.
I walked across the hall to the tea and coffeemaker machine, and I had just begun to make my tea when I felt a presence to my right. I flicked my eyes towards my da, not surprised to find him standing there, staring down at me. I glanced over my shoulder at Bronagh and Damien, who were watching us like hawks. I could have sworn neither of them blinked.
“What d’ye want?” I asked as I turned back to the machine.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed my da shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“We need to talk, Alannah.”
I swallowed down bile.
“I’ve nothin’ to say to you.”
“Well, I’ve plenty to say to you.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but I remained quiet, giving him the opportunity to talk if he wanted to. I stirred my teabag around my styrofoam cup with a little wooden stick painstakingly slow.
“Until the day I die,” he began, “I will be sorry for cheatin’ on your ma, and breakin’ both her and your trust in me.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes.
“I don’t expect forgiveness,” he continued, “I don’t expect anythin’ less than anger because it’s what I deserve, but I just want you to know that I am truly sorry, and I have never regretted somethin’ more in me entire life.”
My lower lip wobbled upon hearing the emotion in his voice.
“You’re me baby,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m so sorry I ruined our relationship.”
My tears fell.
“Why?” I demanded, angrily wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. “Why did you do it?”
“I’ve been thinkin’ of the answer to that question since it all started,” he answered, clearing his throat. “Nothin’ I’ve come up with is good enough a reason. No reason is good enough for what I’ve done.”
On that, I agreed with him.
“I’m goin’ to tell your mother.”
I jerked my gaze to his so quickly, my neck hurt.
“What?”
“After she completes ’er radiation,” Da continued. “I’m goin’ to come clean and own up to what I did.”
I was at a loss for words.
“Will you leave ’er?”
“Christ,” Da blanched. “Never. I can only pray she won’t leave me, though I deserve nothin’ less.”
I considered his words.
“She won’t leave you,” I concluded. “She loves you too much.”
Da’s eyes glazed over with tears.
“I hate meself,” he rasped, exhaling a deep breath. “I love your ma; she is me heart. I’m sick with meself that I’ve done this to ’er.”
“Me too.”
My da locked his eyes on me.
“I will never,” he said, firmly, “ever break either of your trust again. I would rather die.”
My heart pounded.
“I can’t forgive you,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Not until she does, at least.”
“I’ll take it,” Da practically pleaded. “I’ll take any chance, no matter how small, to mend what I’ve done. I miss you so much, Alannah. Not talkin’ to you and seein’ the hurt in your eyes when you look at me breaks my heart. You’re me baby girl, and what I’ve done has hurt you. I swore when you were just born that I would protect you from everythin’ in this world, I … I just didn’t realise I had to protect you from me too.”
Before I realised what I was doing, I abandoned my cup of tea and stepped forward. Wrapping my arms around my da, I burst into tears when his arms came around me. He held onto me so tight, it almost crushed the air from my lungs.
“I love you,” Da cried as he leaned down and pressed his face into my hair. “I’m so sorry.”
“I love you too.” I sobbed, squeezing him.
God knew that I hated what he had done, but I still loved him with every bone in my body, and it was the most conflicted my emotions had ever been. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with us. I wasn’t sure if I would forgive him, if I could ever fully trust him again, but one thing I was certain of was that he was sorry, and that he would never do anything to hurt my ma or me again. I was also sure that I missed him just as much as I loved him, but my anger over what he had done had blocked out those emotions as I focused on the deed he committed.