The Hearts We Break (The Alphaletes Book 3), page 24
“What?” I ask.
His eyes snap up to mine as he drops his hand.
“Nothing, just a few more pieces of hair,” he says as he moves to the trash can.
“Stop.”
He pauses before slowly turning.
“Show me.”
Slater shakes his head when I speak.
“Please.”
Slowly, he opens his clenched hand, revealing a thick wad of wet hair. Slowly, I lift my hand up and run my fingers through the side of my head, my stomach bottoming out as every strand I touch comes with it. I stare at it for a second before I sigh.
“Well, guess it’s time.”
“Time for what, baby?” Slater asks softly.
I reach for the middle drawer before grabbing Slater’s electric clippers.
“Just shave it,” I say as I hand it towards him.
He frowns at me as he takes them from me.
“Are you sure? I-”
“Just do it, please.”
He nods softly, turning them on before lifting it up to his head.
“Wait, what are you-”
Before I can finish my sentence, Slater is running them through his thick hair, brown curls falling to the ground leaving a bald line in its path. Without a word, he takes the clippers to my head, doing the same before looking at me in the mirror.
“One for you, one for me. We’re in this together, Bubbles.”
My throat tightens as my eyes begin to water. I nod as he shaves another strip of his hair before doing mine again. He goes slow, alternating between us both until there is nothing left on either of our heads. I feel a tear run down my cheek as Slater reaches out and gently runs a hand over my now bald head as he looks at me with the most tender look I’ve ever seen.
“So fucking beautiful.”
Before I can speak, he closes the distance between us, pressing his lips against mine. My heart swells as he deepens the kiss, cupping my face gently as he pulls away.
“Can I ask a favor, if you’re feeling up to it?”
“Are you kidding? Anything,” I smile through my tears as I quickly wipe under my eyes.
“Will you come to the game tomorrow? Vi and Mikey are coming in for the game, they can pick you up.”
I’m already exhausted thinking about it, but I know how much it would mean to Slater, and maybe if I’m there, he will finally be able to pull his head out of his ass and play to his capability.
“I can try,” I say with a half-smile.
He hugs me tightly before giving me another kiss.
“I got to get to walk-through. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you more, baby.”
-
The next morning, I’m all dressed and ready for the game. Slater carried me downstairs this morning after he helped me get dressed, and he told me Vi and Declan would come pick me up at eleven. At ten fifty nine, a knock comes from the door. Slowly, I make my way across the house, wavering a few times before I make it to the door. When I open it, I’m greeted with Vi and Declan’s smiling faces, that is until they see me. Both of their smiles drop as a look of sympathy and horror replaces them. Damn, guess I look really bad to those that haven’t seen me since I got sick.
“Hey, guys,” I say with a nervous smile.
Declan is the first to wipe the surprise from his face as he smiles and nods.
“Hello, Miss Scarlett. You look very nice. You ready?”
I nod as I grab my purse from the entryway table to my right. It takes me a second to notice before I cock my head to the side.
“Did you cut your hair? It looks shorter?”
Declan lifts a hand to run over his buzz cut before he nods but doesn’t say anything more. Vi steps beside me, wrapping her arms around me in a hug before looping her arm through mine. Declan does the same on the other side of me as we all start taking slow steps towards the rental car ahead of us.
We chat on the car ride over, Vi shows me pictures of the kids, telling me all about how Tucker’s first year of peewee football went. Declan boasted about all the good plays Tuck made and how he was going to be a force to be reckoned with when he gets older. I was tempted to remind them that the poor kid is too young to have NFL dreams pinned on him, but they both looked too deliriously happy for me to say anything, and Tucker says to anyone who will listen how he wants to be just like his daddy when he grows up.
It doesn’t take long for us to get to the stadium. We park in the family and friend’s lot before we head up to the tunnel. A familiar redhead is standing there with a wheelchair. Embarrassment burns through me as I come closer.
“That’s a little unnecessary, Erica. I can walk, I’m just kinda slow.”
“Sorry, babe. Slater’s orders, I’m not going to get in trouble because you want to be stubborn. Now, sit.”
If I thought I was capable of it, I’d storm past all of them and make my way through the tunnel myself. Unfortunately, my stomach begins to turn as my head begins to sway, and I decide it’s probably safer to take a seat. A chill runs through me as the cold air nips at me as Declan comes behind the wheelchair and starts pushing me. Erica reaches into her bag before pulling out a small throw blanket. She drapes it over my lap, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Looks like you thought of everything,” I tease.
She shrugs with a smile before we get to the main hall. Instead of going to the elevator to head up to the boxes, we go down towards the field and locker rooms. I frown as I look up at Declan.
“Where are you taking us?” I ask as we miss the turn for the field and continue heading towards the locker rooms.
I glance back to see Vi and Erica sharing secret looks before giving me way too wide smiles. I narrow my eyes at them. Something is up.
Erica hustles in front of Declan before holding the door to the home team locker room open, allowing us to go in first. When we do, I’m frozen in place at what I see.
The Crusaders are all gathered no doubt for their pre-game huddle, but that’s not what surprises me. There isn’t a lock of hair in sight. In the whole room. Every single head is completely shaved, including the coaches.
Slater steps forward, pressing a kiss to my lips before grabbing my hand to hold.
“You look so beautiful today, baby. I’m so glad you came.”
“Slater…what’s going on?”
“You’ve always been there for us, and we want you to know that we are here for you. All of us,” a player says as he steps forward.
Wait. Not a player. Sebastian. Wait…Sebastian?!
My eyes are wide, my mouth hanging open as I look at him. Yeah it’s the same face, and he’s still the 6’6 giant of a man, but there is one crucial piece of him missing. His hair. The signature Sebastian Caldwell man bun is gone, a barely there buzz cut in its place. My eyes swing to face Erica as she nods to me.
“I know, right? I didn’t even recognize him when he came out of the bathroom.”
“Seb, your hair!” I say.
He shrugs, that aloof look still on his face.
“It’s just hair. It will grow back.”
A lump begins to form in my throat as my eyes skate over each player, all looking at me with sincere smiles or sympathetic frowns. I can’t believe they all did this. For me?
“We got these too,” Slater says as he shows me his wrist, a teal wristband with the Ovarian Cancer ribbon and my name scrawled into it.
“Slater,” I say softly as I shake my head.
He nods, pressing another kiss to the side of my head.
“We all just wanted you to know that we love you and we are here for you.”
“Thank you…everyone. It means a lot,” I say to the group of guys.
Coach Aberton nods.
“You’ll always be a Crusader,” he says before gesturing to Collin.
He steps up to me, giving me a smile before handing me a jersey. My eyes water when I see the name on the back is Hayes with Slater’s number, thirty seven. Slater takes it from my lap, quickly slipping it over the long sleeve Crusader shirt I was wearing.
“Love that number on you,” Slater says with a wink. “Alright, boys, let’s go kick the shit out of the Bears, for my girl!”
The guys come together and cheer in agreement, causing me to blush in embarrassment. God, I hate attention. Declan chuckles from behind me like he can hear my thoughts before he spins the wheelchair around.
“Alright, enough torture for you. Let’s get you up to the box.”
Please.
Scarlett
My stomach rolls as I empty what little contents I have into the toilet. I feel Slater’s hand soothingly rubbing up and down my back as he coos soft words to me.
“Easy, baby. Let it out. You’re doing so good.”
I was humiliated the first few times that Slater watched me throw up. It’s basically become a daily ritual at this point though, so embarrassment has kinda left the building. The comfort he brings just by standing by my side helps. God, I do not deserve this man.
I dry heave several more times before my stomach finally gives up. Blowing out a shaky breath, I push myself up to stand, but I’m so weak my legs tremble instantly. Slater is there, catching me in a flash before clutching me to his chest like I’m the most precious thing in the world. As if it takes no effort at all, he slips an arm under my knees before lifting me into his arms.
He carries me to the bedroom before laying me down in the middle of the bed. He hovers over me, his eyes full of concern as his hand cups the side of my face.
“Do you want me to get you some crackers? Ginger ale? What can I do, baby?”
My eyes flutter closed, as exhaustion takes over me.
“I’m okay, thank you.”
Slater nods helplessly before he lays down next to me, wrapping his arms around me until I’m laying on top of him. We sit there in silence for a few moments before he speaks.
“You’re getting so tiny. I feel like you’re slipping through my fingertips,” he rasps, his voice tinged with emotion.
I don’t know what to say to that, because if I’m honest I feel like I’m deteriorating. I wonder most days if my mom felt this way. If she just held it together better than me. I’m only two rounds of chemo in, and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I got on the scale a few days ago and noticed that I lost another five pounds. My ribs are starting to show, my muscle is practically disappearing, and I feel so damn frail. The only thing about me that isn’t practically dissolving is my cheeks which are currently puffed from the steroids.
I know saying any of that out loud won’t do any good. It will only ratchet up the fear Slater has, and it won’t make me feel any better speaking it out into the universe. So, I keep my mouth shut, burrow deeper into Slater, and let sleep overtake me.
When I wake up, the space beside me is empty. I feel around for Slater but come up short. Frowning, I sit up, my head spinning instantly at the movement. It’s Slater’s rest day so he should be here.
Suddenly, I hear soft voices from outside the bedroom.
“I don’t want to wake her,” Slater’s voice says.
“I’m awake,” I say as loud as I can.
The door snicks open a moment later, Slater poking his head in first as he gives me a sweet smile.
“Hi, baby. Did you have a good nap?”
I nod, doing my best to shake the fog off as I rub my eyes.
“You up for some company? It’s okay if you aren’t. It’s just Seb and Erica.”
“Yeah, sure,” I say as I sit up the rest of the way and run my hands down my face, trying to wipe the sleep away before Seb and Erica come into the room behind Slater.
“How are you feeling, babe?” Erica asks as she comes to sit next to me.
I give her a tired smile as I nod. “Better. How are you guys?”
“We’re good. We made a little stop on the way over here for you. Hopefully it helps,” Erica says as she gestures to Seb.
I turn to face him, still caught off guard by the nearly bald head. I still can’t believe he shaved his head, and in support of me of all reasons.
Seb takes a step forward, handing me an unmarked white paper bag. Curiously, I open the bag, my mouth dropping open when I see what’s inside.
“You guys went to a dispensary?”
Seb shrugs as he leans a shoulder against the wall.
“Slater said you have been having a hard time keeping anything down. Some of this should help chill out the nausea and hopefully even make you hungry.”
I pull out a bag of gummies, looking them over before pulling out some kind of lemonade drink. These have THC in them? What don’t they make as an edible these days?
The last few things in the bag are a couple of joints in plastic tubes. I roll it over to read the labels.
“Blueberry Sour Diesel and OG-Kush? Who comes up with these names?” I laugh.
“Oh shit. Ezra and I used to buy Blueberry Sour Diesel way back in the day,” Slater laughs.
“You mean back before it was legalized?” I tease.
Slater holds a finger up to his mouth before giving me a wink. I can’t help but laugh as everyone joins in. I’ve smoked weed maybe twice in my whole life, both times with Slater and Ezra. I don’t want to tell Seb that I doubt I’d be able to keep the edibles down and truth be told I’m not sure I’ll get the nerve to try to smoke one of the joints but then again if it helps me stop throwing up and potentially be able to eat, I’ll try anything.
Seb and Erica hung out for a little longer and it was nice, but things felt a little…awkward. Or maybe that’s just me. It feels the same when Slater and my family come over. Everyone is all smiles. They avoid the C-word like they could catch it themselves and always emanate this shiny disposition that is clearly fake.
The only person that acts themselves around me these days is Slater. I get it to an extent, no one knows what to say or do. Truthfully, there is nothing they can do. I’m almost halfway through chemo, and we aren’t seeing any improvements on my scans or my tumor markers yet. I’m only getting sicker. Slater and I try not to talk about the negative. Any time I even bring up a remotely worst case scenario, Slater turns on the bubble machines and we go through the whole routine all over again. I’d say it was getting to be annoying if I didn’t love him so much for it.
I’m downstairs on Thursday morning. I asked Slater to help me down there before he went to practice. I’m tired of being stuck upstairs while he’s gone. My dad wanted to come over and pick me up for lunch today, but I told him I wasn’t feeling up for it. Settling in on the couch, I wrap the blanket tighter around me, pulling my beanie down a little farther. It’s winter in Seattle, which means rainy and cold and the twenty-some pounds I’ve lost recently hasn’t helped me retain any heat, unfortunately.
A knock comes from the front door, causing me to groan in frustration. It takes me longer than it should to stand, but slowly, I’m able to make my way to the front door. When I open it, I’m surprised to see Trevor standing there. He has a bag slung over his leather jacket covered shoulder and a smirk on his face. However the smirk falls away when he takes a look at me. I’m used to the pity. I’ve seen it more times than I can count over the last few months. What I don’t expect to cross Trevor’s face is anger.
I’m taken back by it for a minute before he speaks.
“Fucking hell, Freckles. You look like hell.”
I scoff as I tighten my grip on the doorway.
“Gee, thanks. Everything a dying woman wants to hear.”
He narrows his eyes at me.
“Shut the hell up, you aren’t dying.”
“Wouldn’t be so sure about that,” I say as I push off from the door and slowly make my way to the couch, though I get tripped up and go down.
I wait for the impact to hit but it never comes. When I slowly open my eyes, I look over my shoulder to see Trevor’s arm wrapped around my stomach.
“I got you, Freckles,” he says softly before lifting me up. “Wrap your legs around me.”
I do as he says, clinging to him as he slowly carries me.
“Where to?”
“Are you staying for a while?” I ask.
“If you want me to.”
I nod. “Bedroom, please. I just don’t like being stuck up there while Slater is gone.”
Trevor wordlessly carries me up the stairs before pushing Slater and my bedroom door open. He lays me down on the bed before taking a step back and running a hand through his hair.
“So, tell me why the fuck you are home alone when you can’t even get to the door? I’ve talked to Erica and Slater and neither of them told me you were…this.”
“There you go again boosting my confidence,” I say with a weak smile.
“I’m serious,” he says. “I would have come sooner. I was waiting for a bye week, but if I’d have known…”
I shake my head. “Trevor, relax. You don’t need to feel guilty. We aren’t even really friends. My boyfriend is your friend, my best friend is your ex-girlfriend/friend. You don’t owe anything to me.”
He frowns at that like he doesn’t like that.
“We’re friends, Freckles. I don’t have many, but you’re definitely one of them.”
His words are surprisingly sweet for him, they are out of character from the Trevor I’m used to, and they have me looking at him twice, a slight tilt to my head as I watch him. He must be able to understand what I’m thinking because he quickly wipes the concern from his face before he shrugs.
“Besides, I’ve eaten your pussy, and you’ve sucked me off. I’d say that makes us the best kind of friends.”
Therrrrre’s the Trevor I know. Rolling my eyes, I can’t help but huff out a laugh, too tired to be embarrassed by his words.
“Do you always have to use crass words as a defense mechanism?”
“No defense mechanism. I’m just a crass man, Freckles.”
Trevor sits down on the side of the bed before looking around the room. His eyes pause on the white bag Seb brought over before he smirks. He grabs it, rifling through the contents before pulling out one of the joints.
