Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Keeping my diagnosis a secret is hard, but I'm not sure what else to do. It's for his own good that he doesn't know, right? I'm doing this alone because I have to.
Declan
Watching her become withdrawn and sickly, I should have known something was wrong. Instead, I think I blocked it, and I think the worst when she breaks up with me out of the blue.
Can August and Declan find their way back to each other? Back to the truth?
This is book 8 in The President's Daughters Series by ChaShiree M. & M.K. Moore.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
PROLOGUE
AUGUST
TWO MONTHS AGO
I never thought it would be me sitting in this chair, waiting for my entire life to be changed or to be told I could breathe a sigh of release. It’s not just the waiting; it is back in this very office, the same office where my mom received bad news after bad news until it stopped because her life ended. Hell, it's even the same doctor delivering the information to me. Ever since I stepped foot in this place an hour ago, my mind has been a movie reel going over everything from a time in my life when hope was fleeting and, most often, we survived on love and the friendship of others. To be honest, for me, it wasn’t just anyone. My life had no ‘after’ until the day Declan walked into the support group.
THIRTEEN YEARS OLD
I am sitting in this room surrounded by other kids who, like me, have parents who are battling a terminal illness. We are all from various races, backgrounds, socio-economic statuses, cities, grades, schools, and yet, diseases that take your family from you have ravaged all of our lives equally. Joining this group was the day I learned I, the child of a terminally ill patient, is not alone. We are all bonded over our grief, fear of losing our parents, and our utter feeling of being lost. So together, we all make up the Angst of Losing Teen group, funded by the hospital all of our parents attend for treatment. My little sister Connie is not old enough to attend, but the minute she is, I am going to make sure she comes. This is affecting her as well.
“Kids, I would like for you to meet Declan. He is new to our group and to this part of life. I expect all of you will welcome him and offer your support.” We all nod as a new frisson forms in our hearts to welcome another member. He looks around, obviously scared and unsure, hands in his pockets. My heart aches for him. If this is his first go-round, he has no idea what to expect, and to be honest, even years later, you still have no clue, but one minute, you're in remission; the next, it's back. It is a never-ending roller coaster of pain and upheaval.
“Hey, you can sit over here,” I tell him, waving my hands in the air. He looks my way and nods his head. When he sits, I expect us to go back to paying attention to the meeting, but he turns to me with his soul-deep chocolate eyes and smiles.
“Thanks. My name's Declan,” he says, holding his hand out. His name fits him. Putting my hand in his, I smile back.
“Nice to meet you, Declan. My name is August. Welcome to club angst.” his eyes soften. Yeah, buddy, trust me, it gets worse. But the day I met him, something got better, at least in my chest.
FIFTEEN YEARS OLD
“So what did she say?” I ask my mom, who just walked into the house. She has been in remission for the last six months, and although that is amazing, it doesn’t really count until you make it a year. Until that time, you go back every six or, in my mom’s case, due to the swift way it attacked her body, every three months for scans and bloodwork. The three of us have remained optimistic, and dollops of hope have trickled in with each positive update. It’s been nice to laugh and smile.
My mom and Declan’s parents have become great friends. Well, I guess they didn’t have a choice since he and I have been practically attached at the hip ever since he asked me to be his girlfriend at the end of last summer. His mom has been in remission since she finished her treatment at the beginning of this year, and so both houses have been celebrating. Now, I just want the bubble to stay full.
“The cancer is back, and it has spread to my bones.” Pop. I stumble back and grip on the chair behind me.
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No. She made a mistake. I mean, you look fine. We would have known. If you were in pain or feeling unwell, we would have. " My mom looks at me, guilt in her eyes, and it hits me. In the back of my mind, I am happy Connie is at school and isn’t here for this right now.
“You've been hiding it from us?” I cry out, completely shocked. “You have been lying about feeling better?”
“I did it to protect you, sweet girls. You have been so happy, smiling, laughing, the haunted eyes have been gone, I just…I wanted you to hold onto that for as long as possible.” I hear her. Logically, I know what she is saying makes sense, but we have been a team ever since my dad died when I was eleven and Connie was nine. He was a construction worker and in a freak accident, and the life insurance money make it so that my mom didn’t have to work, and my sisters and my college was taken care of along with the house being paid off.