Page 83 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

“Sweetheart, I told you I was going to give you time and that’s what I did. It is Christmas Eve, and I am not going to spend one more minute away from you. Let me in and let me in.” I cup her face in my hands and kiss the tear as it rolls down her cheek, licking the saltiness up with my tongue.

“Okay.” She gives in and leads me to the kitchen where she immediately busies herself making us some coffee.

I sit at the island on one of her newly refurbished stools; it’s comfortable and sturdy. Kendra makes zero eye contact with me as she continues her quest of coffee and avoidance, so I wait patiently. Finally she brings us both a mug and sits on the stool farthest away from me. I pick up my steaming mug, place it on the counter, and sit on the stool right next to her, spinning hers to face me.

“Eli!” Kendra exclaims with a mix of annoyance and heat blazing in her tired eyes.

“No. More. Running. No more time or space. We are going to work this out right now. I know this is on me. I am an idiot and I shouldn’t have pushed. Shouldn’t have freaked you out by mentioning kids so soon or so casually, and for that, I’m really sorry. It’s just that everything that happened with Wren, it brought so much up, and I—” Kendra holds up a hand to cut me off, tears welling fast in her sad eyes.

“Please, please stop,” she begs, in a tone that breaks my heart.

I sit perfectly still and wait, just giving her a slight nod of my head in understanding that she needs to say something important.

“Eli, I can’t give you what you want,” she whispers.

“I want you,” I say.

“No, you don’t understand. You said our kids, like you want me and a family, a future.” Her eyes search mine.

I nod. “Yes, I do. I want all of that with you.” I try to take Kendra’s hand, but she pulls back.

“That’s my point.” Tears stream freely down her face now. “I can’t give you that future, Eli. I can’t have children.”

“What?” I whisper. “Are you okay? What happened?” Fear ripples through me.

“My mom, she died when I was in eighth grade. She battled breast cancer for years. Suffered for years. It was so hard. I always came to Fox Grove, to be with Nana as a respite from my life, the cancer, then the emptiness of our house after she died. Pop worked, and then I didn’t have to be alone in the house all summer. I could come here and pretend; nobody knew my whole sad story. I could just be another normal girl.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” I reach out and tuck her loose hair behind her ear, thankful that she is allowing this small, simple contact.

“After she died I’d always wanted to know if I carried the gene, but I had to wait to get tested until I was at least eighteen. So I did, I got tested.” Kendra looks up at me finally, then squeezes her eyes shut.

“When did you do the tests?”

“Eli,” she whispers.

“When?” I plead.

“After our summer. I tested—I tested positive for the BRCA1 mutation, which makes you much higher risk for both breast and ovarian cancers. And because of my mom, I am an even higher risk.” Kendra bites her trembling lip, and I feel like my world is crumbling.

She could die? She could have cancer like her mom?

“What can we do?” I ask.

“I already did it, when I was twenty,” Kendra says, back straightening.

“What do you mean?” I feel helpless and ignorant.

“To reduce the risk, doctors suggest you have a double mastectomy and remove your ovaries and fallopian tubes when you are between thirty-five and forty,” Kendra explains.

“You’re only twenty-eight,” I say dumbly.

“My mom was only thirty-four when she died, much younger when she was actually first diagnosed, and battled her cancer for so many years. Doctors told us time and time again how she was so young, how it was unfair. It’s just me and Pop and I couldn’t go through my life just waiting and worried that I was going to get cancer like my mom, force him to watch me suffer and d-die like we did with her.” She sobs into her hands, and I pull her onto my lap, even as she weakly tries to push me away.

“Shhh, shh.” I rock her in my arms and just hold her for a long time.

Finally, Kendra says, “I made the decision to have the procedure done early. Much earlier than the normally recommended timeline. I wanted to live, Eli.”

“I understand, sweetheart.” I kiss her temple.