Chapter 5 - No More Secrets
Nathan woke up early the next morning, his stomach in knots, and made Grace’s favorite breakfast: blueberry pancakes with extra syrup, crispy bacon, and a mug of her favorite hazelnut coffee. He set the tray on the nightstand next to their bed, then sat down next to her, brushing her hair off her face as she slept. He’d slept in the guest room for the last eight months, had forgotten how peaceful she looked when she was asleep, how her lips turned up in a tiny smile like she was dreaming of something good. He didn’t want to wake her. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, where the cancer didn’t exist, where they were just Nathan and Grace, happy and in love, no secrets between them.
But he couldn’t. They had to talk.
He shook her shoulder gently. “Grace. Baby, wake up. I made breakfast.”
She blinked awake, smiling when she saw the tray, then sat up, frowning. “You made breakfast? You haven’t made me pancakes since our second anniversary.” She picked up the coffee mug, taking a slow sip, and her eyes softened. “What’s going on, Nathan? You’ve been… different. Since yesterday. Did something happen?”
He took a deep breath, lacing his fingers through hers, and looked her in the eyes. There was no going back now. “I was at your mom’s house day before yesterday. With the divorce papers.”
Grace’s face went white. She pulled her hand out of his, clutching the coffee mug so tight her knuckles turned white. “You… you what? You brought divorce papers to my mom’s house?” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, staring at the wall. “I guess that answers my question. You’re done. I get it, Nathan. I’ll sign them. Today. You don’t have to—”
“I burned them,” he said, cutting her off. She froze, turning back to look at him, her eyes wide. “I burned every last page. I’m not divorcing you, Grace. I never should have even considered it. Because I know. I know everything.”
She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out. “You… you know what?”
“I heard you,” he said softly, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I was standing outside your mom’s window, ready to knock, and I heard you talking to Margaret. About the cancer. About the surgery. About how you didn’t want me to sell the company.” His voice broke, and he squeezed her hand. “I saw the medical papers in her cabinet. I talked to Lila at the hospital. I read your chart, Grace. I know it’s Stage IIIB. I know the surgery is in nine days. I know the 5-year survival rate is 42%.”
Grace let out a sound like a wounded animal, tears spilling down her face, and scrambled away from him, pressing her back against the headboard, pulling her knees to her chest. “You had no right,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “You had no right to go through my things, to talk to Lila, to read my medical records. That’s private, Nathan. That’s my body. My choice.”
“Your choice?” He stood up, running a hand through his hair, his own tears falling now. “What choice, Grace? The choice to lie to me for a year? The choice to go through chemo alone, to come home and throw up in the bathroom and tell me it was bad sushi? The choice to push me away so hard I thought you were cheating on me, so I almost threw away nine years of marriage because I was too stupid to know my wife was dying?” He walked back to the bed, kneeling down in front of her, and took her hands in his, holding them tight even as she tried to pull away. “Do you have any idea what it would have done to me if you’d died and I never knew? If I’d spent the rest of my life hating you for leaving me, when all you were trying to do was protect me?”
“I didn’t want you to have to choose!” she sobbed, finally letting him hold her hands, her body shaking with sobs. “The Capitol Hill contract is everything you’ve ever worked for! I’ve watched you stay up until 3 a.m. going over budgets, I’ve watched you fight with suppliers and inspectors and clients for two years to get that job! If I told you I was sick, you would have dropped everything. You would have sold the company, you would have mortgaged the house, you would have given up every single thing you’ve ever built just to sit by my hospital bed! And what if I died anyway, huh? Then you’d have nothing! No wife, no company, no future! I couldn’t do that to you, Nathan! I love you too much to ruin your life!”
“Then you don’t know me at all,” he said, his voice fierce, as he climbed onto the bed and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms around her so tight she couldn’t pull away. She cried into his chest, her hands fisting in his shirt, and he held her, rocking her back and forth, his own tears falling into her hair. “My life isn’t the company, Grace. It’s not the trucks, or the contracts, or the new house I wanted to buy. It’s you. It’s always been you. If I lost you, none of that other shit would matter. I’d sell every truck, every tool, every contract tomorrow if it meant I got one more day with you. One more hour. One more minute. You think I care about a construction job when the woman I love is fighting for her life? You think I’d trade a single second by your side for all the money in the world?” He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “You are my dream, Grace. You’re the only dream that ever mattered. And I’m not letting you fight this alone. Not for one more second.”
Grace stared at him, her chest heaving, her eyes red and swollen, and then she collapsed against him, crying harder than she had the whole time she’d been sick. “I was so scared,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his shirt. “I was so scared I’d die and you’d hate me. I was so scared I’d lose you and the cancer would win. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to be a burden.”
“You could never be a burden,” he said, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips—soft, gentle kisses, the first real ones they’d shared in over a year. “You’re my wife. My partner. For better or worse, remember? In sickness and in health? I didn’t say those words just to say them. I meant them. Even when I was being an idiot, even when I was angry and scared and pushing you away, I meant them. We’re a team, Grace. No more secrets. No more running. No more trying to protect me from the hard stuff. We do this together. Okay?”
May you like
She nodded, her face buried in his neck, and whispered, “Okay. Together.”
They stayed like that for hours, holding each other, talking until their throats were sore. Grace told him everything: the day she’d found the lump, the drive home from the doctor’s office where she’d cried so hard she’d had to pull over on the highway, the first round of chemo that had left her bedridden for three days, the way she’d had to lie to her coworkers about why she was leaving early every week, the nights she’d laid in the guest room listening to him work in his office, wanting to tell him but too scared to ruin his life. Nathan told her about the divorce papers, about the year of doubt and fear and anger, about sitting in the hospital parking lot crying after reading her chart, about burning the papers, about giving Rico the company. When they were done talking, the sun was high in the sky, the pancakes on the tray were cold, and for the first time in a year, their house felt like a home again. No more walls. No more lies. Just two people who loved each other, ready to fight the hardest battle of their lives, side by side.
