But the game was interrupted when Heath, my roommate and best friend, texted me.

Hey, did you make it to your dr. appointment okay?

I typed out my reply:

Yes. On way to 2nd appt.

Alone?

No. A is with me.

Ok. I’ll be home when you get here.

Just as he’d promised and in spite of my fears to the contrary, Adam returned about a quarter of an hour later with his laptop case slung over his sturdy shoulder. The second doctor was in some super fancy medical building in Newport Beach right next to Hoag Hospital (half country club, half medical response to the rich and sometimes famous). Adam’s search for “the best” in OC must have led him there.

After taking twenty minutes to page through my tests and charts from the flash drive, she looked up at me, grim-faced. Her numbers were not as good as Dr. Metcalfe’s.

Less than fifty percent if I went through with the pregnancy. She was dead serious and adamant that I not pursue this course.

“I strongly recommend termination and immediate rounds of chemotherapy.”

And that’s when, slumped on her fancy exam table, I felt the tears filling my eyes. I met Adam’s gaze through my hazy vision. His face was cold, impassive. I imagined him telling me, “I told you so.” I looked away and blinked, unable to breathe.

The whole world around me felt like it was sinking.

Chapter Two

Adam

I watched Emilia closely as the doctor delivered her prognosis numbers. She bravely tried to hide the emotional reaction that I knew was near the surface. The doctor excused herself and I stood, approaching her as she sat on the exam table. She didn’t look up or move at all, her eyes fixed on some point in the middle distance, her mind far away from this point in time.

I swallowed, feeling the same old guilt almost suffocate me. But by necessity, I shoved it aside. I couldn’t let emotions get in the way, not now. This was a critical time and we had to act fast. My sole concern was Emilia’s health and survival. Everything else could be taken care of later, when she was healthy again. Hopefully by then there would be enough pieces of us to pick up and put back together.

I prayed to a God I didn’t really believe in that she listened to what the doctors had told her today. Since I’d had the time to recover from the shock of discovering that not only was she pregnant but she also had cancer, I’d taken the time to analyze the way I’d handled it. And determined that I should have done everything in the opposite way of what I’d done.

So I’d spent the whole weekend strategizing and coming up with a plan. These doctor visits were part of that plan. I hoped, rather than knew, that she would follow the medical advice. Emilia was a very smart woman but at this point she was being driven by pure emotion. Since we’d argued on Saturday morning about her need to terminate the pregnancy, and faced with her adamant refusal to do it, I’d decided to back off and be there for her. We hadn’t mentioned the subject again because I feared that the more she fought me over it, the deeper she would dig in her heels.

I hoped that she’d listen to the medical advice, but if she wouldn’t, I wasn’t going to give up—I’d find something or someone she would listen to. For this reason, I had set about up a back-up plan.

Emilia was quiet the entire walk down to the parking structure. I opened the car door for her and she slid inside, her shoulders rounded. When I sank into the driver’s seat, she was staring straight ahead. I reached over and took one of her hands in mine. It was cold and lifeless, and she didn’t return the pressure when I folded her hand inside mine.

“Mia,” I said quietly. “Are you okay?”

She blinked. “What do you think?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” She buried her face in her hands and laughed bitterly. “I bet you wish you’d gotten laid with that model of Jordan’s instead of hopping into the sack with me.”

I pulled her into my arms. She laid her head on my shoulder. “Now you are just being silly.”

She grabbed my shoulders, holding me against her. “Adam, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to apologize. All I want is for you to have the best chance possible.”

After holding each other in long silence, she quietly said, “Can you take me home now?”

I hesitated. Home. For me, her home was my house, where we’d lived together until our breakup two months before. And it hurt when I realized that her reference to “home” meant Heath’s condo. I turned and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, then pulled away.