She shrugged, as if he was just telling her she needed to change her diet or some trivial bullshit. Not that the latest treatment option we’d gone with hadn’t worked. Frustrated, I squeezed the back of my neck, fighting the sting of tears burning my sinus cavity.
“What’s next?” I demanded when I had myself under control, pulling the doctor’s focus to me. “There are other options, right? How fast can she start it?”
The hematologist grimaced. “Now we look for a bone marrow donor.”
“Okay, so how long will it take before she’s matched?”
“I’ve already put Pixie on the transplant list, so it could be as little as one to two weeks.” Relief hit me, but the doctor quickly shot it down. “Or it could take months. We won’t know until we know.”
“Hurry up and wait,” Pixie muttered, causing Dr. Contreras to give a grim nod.
“Unfortunately, yes.”
The remainder of the visit was spent going over what to expect when a donor was found, and I listened intently to everything out of the man’s mouth, committing it all to memory. Pixie sat beside me, nodding when it was appropriate and agreeing when the doctor suggested something, but each time I chanced looking at her, her eyes were vacant.
A bone marrow transplant didn’t automatically mean she would get better. If Pixie had a relative who could donate the marrow, she had a 55-68% survival rate. But because the donor would be someone unrelated to her, it dropped to a 26-50% chance of survival. Those numbers weren’t ideal, but they still meant a chance, because according to Dr. Contreras, this was the last resort for Pixie’s condition.
We’d already exhausted every other treatment, and if this didn’t work, then the next step would be hospice care.
After they gave us all the paperwork to read over, I bundled Pixie up and put her in my car to drive back to her apartment. On the way, I grabbed her something to eat, but I couldn’t even stomach the smell of food. Losing Pixie wasn’t an option. It wasn’t when she’d first told me she was sick, and it sure as fuck wasn’t now.
When I met her, I’d been spiraling after meeting some of my half siblings. What I’d hoped would be a second chance at a family had turned into a clusterfuck of disappointments. All my brothers and sisters had wanted was to use me for my connections as a Son of the Underground and my friendships with Howler and Judge.
One of my half brothers had been a little worse than the others. Strung out on drugs, unable to keep a job, in jail more often than not. When we met for the first time, he’d come with the plan to rob me. I’d knocked him out and called the cops, but before they could arrive, Tyler had come to and made a run for it.
He’d waved down a taxi, pulled the driver from behind the wheel, and stole the car. Only, he’d still been out of his mind on whatever he’d been snorting, and five miles later, he’d run off a bridge. It had taken days to recover the vehicle from the river, but he’d still been inside.
A week later, Pixie had shown up on my doorstep. Tears had poured down her face as she’d explained who she was. Tyler was her younger half brother—the two of them shared a mom, while he and I shared a father. He was the only family she’d had left, and she’d struggled to keep him out of trouble. But some people just didn’t want to be saved. Tyler had been one of those people.
There was just something about Pixie. She was five years older than me but so tiny that she could have fit in my gym bag with room to spare. She’d only come to apologize to me for what Tyler had done, but that day, we’d found the family we’d both been so desperate to have all our lives.
She might not have been my sister by blood, but she’d become my chosen sister. She treated me like a younger brother and even a son at times, and I adored her. We took care of each other through everything from the moment she’d knocked on my door to apologize for Tyler.
I’d lost a lot in my life, but I refused to lose Pixie too. Whatever it took, I would do it to ensure this disease didn’t steal her from me.
“Go home,” Pixie instructed when we got to her front door.
“No. We should talk about this. And I need to check that leaking pipe you were talking about earlier.” I started to move past her, but she put up her arm, blocking my entrance to the apartment.
“That’s what the super is for. And I’m so tired of talking about all of this. If I have to have one more conversation that involves chemo or cancer or how I’m feeling, I’m going to scream.” She looked up at me with pleading eyes. “I know you only want to make sure I’m okay, but right now, I need a little time to decompress. Alone. I want to curl up on my couch, gorge on junk food, maybe have a good cry, and then sleep for at least eighteen hours.”
“Pixie—”
“Please, Jenner,” she whispered. “I promise, I’m all right. Really, I am. I just need some time to myself.”
Swallowing the knot that had felt like it was stuck in my throat since Dr. Contreras had delivered the bad news we had been expecting, I gave in. “Okay,” I choked out. “But I need you to call me tomorrow so I don’t worry. If I don’t hear from you—”
“I’ll text you first thing tomorrow,” she promised.
I dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Stay warm. If you need anything, text me and I’ll bring it straight over.”
“Love you, bro,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around me.
“Love you more, sis,” I rasped, fighting the sting of tears that had been close to the surface all day.
The instant I was behind the wheel of my car, I finally let go. I sat there for what felt like hours, just crying, getting it all out. But the release of emotions did nothing to ease the pressure in my chest. Scrubbing a hand over my damp face, I grabbed my phone out of the cupholder and texted Doe.
Part of me wanted to tell her about Pixie, everything from how she’d come into my life to her illness. But a bigger part wanted—needed—to keep my relationship with Doe separate from that. Just for now. I knew I couldn’t keep the two women who meant everything to me from each other forever. But right then, Doe was my safe place, and I didn’t want the pain and fear of all the “what-ifs” that could go wrong with Pixie to touch the peace that I felt whenever Doe was near.
Me: Can I see you when you get done with your friend?
It was only a matter of seconds before a reply popped up.
Little Lamb: I’ll have Aspen drop me off at your place.
Knowing I would get to see her later and not have to wait until the next morning, some of the tension in my muscles eased, and I finally started my car. At home, I gave the apartment a quick clean and then took a shower. I wasn’t sure what time Doe would stop by, but I wanted to be ready for when she got there.
Stepping out of the shower, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist before picking up another one to dry the top of half of my body. Using the towel on my hair, I walked into the kitchen to grab a protein shake. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and food still held no appeal, but my stomach was growling angrily.
Twisting the top off the oat milk shake, I took a big drink just as I heard a knock on the door. Crossing to the door, I checked out the window and saw Doe standing on the other side. Her teeth were sunk into her lush bottom lip, but then she turned and waved as I caught sight of someone backing out of the driveway.