Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I say that, even though I know in the pit of my stomach that they’re not.
Stiff muscles, tingling in my extremities from time to time, and cognitive issues like dropping things—I’ve been experiencing those too. I just don’t want to admit it.
“I hear what you’re saying, Cole. But I’m confident in the diagnosis. I think we caught it extremely early because you function at such a high level. The symptoms you were noticing—not being able to read the ball coming into home plate, for example—are things that might not have been noticed by the layperson.”
I force a swallow and try to focus. What the fuck does this mean?
Just as I feared, my life feels like it’s been ripped in half. This label, this diagnosis, is the delineator, and I want to scream and go back to before I answered this call.
Fuck, I want to hit something.
“What does this mean?” I ask him. “What does the rest of my life look like? What the hell do I do now?”
I haven’t read much about MS, mostly as a way of ignoring it. If I didn’t invite it into my world, maybe it would stay away. That was stupid, in retrospect, but it allowed me to survive not knowing, and I won’t fault myself for that.
“We treat the symptoms as they arise—and there are a lot of treatments available. There are medicines you can take orally; there are injectables. We also have infusion treatments, and we’ll work with you on selecting the right therapies as we battle this. Okay?”
I nod, nearly numb to the moment.
“Right now, it’s important for you to keep exercising and eating right. Monitor changes, which, as you know, could be few at this point in time. It could be that way for a long time. Try to keep your stress level down.”
That’s ironic.
“You’re in great physical shape,” he says. “Let’s work on keeping you fit and strong. When symptoms pop up, we’ll figure out the best course of action. This will be a long-term game, Cole. We’ll work together. I’m here to help you every step of the way.”
“Yeah.”
“But you’re going to have to call me back a bit faster.”
“I’ll try.”
He babbles on about making an appointment to see him again and insisting that I do a better job at keeping in touch. But all I can think about is Palmer.
My chest clenches as I imagine her pretty face awash in concern over this. Do I have any right to do this to her?
She’s so strong, so nurturing. She’s been through so much. What kind of a man would I be if I asked her to take this on too?
Palmer never turns away from the people she loves. She goes above and beyond for her child, for Kirk and Charlotte, for the community events like the nursing home picnics. She volunteered to be the team mom and deals with Jared in a way that’s more than I could do if I were in her situation.
I think I’m going to vomit.
The thought of asking her to deal with this alongside me is nearly unfathomable. How do I just plop this on her lap—burden her with the prospect of a life that I can’t guarantee? She doesn’t need, or deserve, more issues in her life, and here I am, considering telling her that I love her but lacing it with this complication?
Fuck.
I say goodbye to my doctor and end the call. Then I drop my chin and attempt to regain control over my emotions.
“You knew this,” I say to myself. “This is why you retired. You knew something was wrong.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
“But what do I do now?” I ask aloud. “What is the right thing to do?”
I open my eyes. They land on the to-do list from earlier today—just a few minutes ago, really. I was full of hope then and positive about my next step in life.
With Palmer.
If she were the one who had something like this to deal with, I would still want to be with her. Without a shadow of a doubt. There’s nothing that she could say to me that would make me less interested in pursuing her than I am right now.
But does she feel the same?
She wants a husband, more kids . . . a family to love. And that’s when I realize something vital. I want to be a part of that family. It already feels like my family.
“I’ll tell her,” I say, testing the words. “I’ll tell her I have MS and see what she says. I’ll give her the choice.”
Even though the thought terrifies me, it’s the right answer.
It’s the only answer.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
PALMER
I sniffle and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge.
My face is swollen. It hurts to touch anywhere near my eyes.
I cried off and on—every time I thought about Kirk’s anguish and how terrified Charlotte must be—but managed to pull myself together enough to get through the day. I don’t know when Kirk told the shop guys, but he must have. Burt came into my office to hand me a bunch of invoices and didn’t make one smart-ass comment or insult. He just looked at me with a sadness that I felt deep in my bones.