Cancer.
It's a curse.
It turns people's lives upside down and ruins their relationships.
Brynne Foster is a perfect example.
After being diagnosed with leukemia at age 17, Brynne's family struggles to accept her decision of refusing chemotherapy...
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He stares at me with confusion plastered on his face. I give him the same look. Out of all the places I'd expect to see him, In the middle of the city is not one of them.
Why is he dressed so nicely?
He has a white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and black pants on. His messy black hair shows as he delicately runs his fingers through it, and I notice a scar on his forehead.
I ignore it.
"What are you doing here?" We both say defensively, at the same time.
His hand remains extended, but I ignore it and get up without any help. I can sense his eyes traveling up and down my body, examining my fragile state. He clenches his teeth revealing, his sharp jawline.
"We have to stop meeting like this," He says in a monotone voice. I can't tell if he's flirty or if he's serious.
I slightly smile, silently agreeing.
"So, what are you doing here?" He promptly asks again, this time with more curiosity.
I can't tell him the truth.
"I decided to go on a late-night run and ended up here," I hesitate. I hope he can't see the reminiscence of my tears.
I think he can sense the uneasiness in my voice because he raises his eyebrow in doubt.
"Brynne, your house is ten miles from here."
Wow, did I just run ten miles?
"Yeah, well, I started a few hours ago," I respond, unsure of how much time has passed since I left home.
It couldn't have been more than an hour, I tell myself.
I scramble for my phone and realize that I was stupid enough to leave it on my nightstand.
Great.
Now I'm stuck in the city, with no phone, and the last person I want to be with at the moment. The tension in the air rises as Blake checks his watch. I glance over and read the time. It reads 3:50 a.m.
I've been gone for three hours?
My parents must be worried sick, let alone Grant. I shouldn't have left. I should have stayed and explained my decision to them. Hopefully, they are willing to listen to me once I get back. I look up at Blake; and he glances down at me. Those blue eyes haven't changed one bit. But, his hair has gotten longer, and he's grown at least two feet. He towers over my 5'2 frame putting him at around 6 feet. He has to arch his neck to meet my gaze.
Police sirens break our intense staring contest, and Blake instinctively grabs my arm and pulls me into the nearest alley.We shift through the dumpsters and hop over an old couch until we are out of view.
Why is he hiding from the cops?
This can't be good.
He lets go of my arm and puts his finger over his mouth signaling me to keep quiet. I give him a confused look, but he only shakes his head and keeps watch. I've never been one to comply with men's orders, but I guess I'll make an exception this time.
