TANTRIC (Book 3 of the Soundcrush Series)

Chapter 43: Hippie Chics Revisit Decks

The song is Paris by the Chainsmokers. I don't think you'll get it til the very end of the chapter, which I don't want to spoil...but when you get to the end, listen to the song and you will realize...it's an anthem...

Ashlynn

It's been a week since I've been home. It's after dinner and Cam is shirtless, leaning against the bathroom vanity, speaking into his phone when I bring the microwave baby bottle sterilizer into the bathroom. He gives the device, which looks like a covered cake carrier, a quizzical look and me a smile, but he holds up a finger.

"No. I'm absolutely ready. I really appreciate this. Yes, absolutely no problem. I'll report to Jenkins in Pathology day after tomorrow. Great. No, no, as I said last month, I'm so thankful for the opportunity, and I promise you, I'll make sure I'm capable of giving a hundred percent before I return to work after each round. Thanks again, Dr. Hollister."

His grin widens as he lays his phone down and puts his hands in his dark, shiny hair, looking at me with victory gleaming in his eyes. Impulsively, he darts forward and pulls me into a hug. "Laney! Celebrate with me, please," he says, as he sways me from side to side. "Because that is the best news I have heard in a while." He laughs, a triumphant crow. It reminds me of the way he used to laugh at a Friday night party after he threw for a big win.

My arms come up to pat his back briefly, but then I move them to his chest to separate us. Hugging Cam while he's shirtless and feeling cocky is not going to help our situation. But I am glad to see his energy fired up.

"What are we celebrating?" I ask, spraying down the counter with a bleach spray and wiping diligently.

"So many good things." He's pacing behind me, excited as he talks. "The fact that my infectious disease attending passed me on my last clinical rotation despite the fact that I was a few days short. The fact that my advisor is willing to let me audit my final rotation—pathology—when I'm feeling well enough to go, because I've gotten excellent reviews in all of my difficult rotations, and let's face it...how much do I need to know about autopsies that I didn't learn in gross anatomy already? Do you realize what that means?"

My smile is wide and genuine. "You're still graduating on time. In six weeks you'll be a real, honest-to-god doctor."

"No fucking shit!" he crows. I laugh. I'm so happy for him. He wasn't sure how the medical school was going to handle his leave for treatment, and it's really been worrying him.

He sets me on my feet again. "Ah but there's more. We're also celebrating a freakin' miracle when it comes to my residency. One of the incoming residents at Emory declined the program, so they have a space that they are willing to let me fill on a three-quarters time basis. They are cool with accommodating my weeks off for chemo. And the resident director of my match program in Nashville has agreed to let me transfer in later this year, when my chemo is finished. That part will suck—being behind the curve of the other residents, but I'm lucky they are willing to keep me...it's a great surgical program."

This time I hug him. "I'm so happy for you, Cam! That's amazing. I know you've been so worried."

He has his hands on his head again. "It's all going to be okay! I can't fucking believe it!" Suddenly he grabs my head and plants an emphatic smack on my forehead, folding me in another hug.

He's so happy, and I'm so happy for him, I don't pull away this time. Instead, I draw up on my toes and whisper in his ear. "You're going to be an amazing doctor. I think everything happens for a reason. Me being sick, you being sick...that's part of you now. Part of what will make you the best kind of doctor—one with empathy."