My Daughter Is Dying, and My Husband Is Saving His Lover's Son novel · Chapter 1 of 32
Chapter 1: The Pink Crown
On Clara's seventh birthday, the eve of her transplant, Brad leaves to drive Tasha and Caden home, so Heidi calls the doctor and makes herself the donor; then she finds tonight's photo of Clara on Tasha's page, captioned as Caden.
"Uncle Brad, can you drive us home?"
Caden was hanging off my husband's sleeve with both hands.
Brad laughed, the easy laugh he hadn't used on our own daughter in months.
"Sure, buddy. Let me find my keys."
I stepped into the front hall and stood in front of the door.
"You're leaving?"
Tasha came up behind him in a cloud of perfume, the sharp floral kind that sticks in your throat.
"Heidi, I feel terrible," she said. "But you know how Caden gets in the dark. He needs a man around to feel safe."
"My daughter has leukemia," I said. "Tomorrow is her transplant. She needs her father."
Tasha looked at the floor. "I told Brad we could take an Uber."
"Don't be silly," Brad said to her.
Then he turned to me, and his face went flat.
"It's twenty minutes, Heidi. I'm not moving to Europe."
"You're the donor. You're supposed to sleep. You're supposed to be here."
"They don't take the marrow until morning." He pulled his coat off the hook. "Clara's half asleep anyway."
I pointed through the doorway to the dining room.
Clara was sitting at the table in her pink paper crown.
It had slid sideways on her bald head.
The cake in front of her was chocolate with seven candles, and every candle was out.
Caden had blown them out before she could.
She'd thrown up four times that morning from the pre-transplant drugs, just so she could sit at that table.
"She's awake," I said. "She wants you to read her a story."
"I'll read to her tomorrow, after." He shoved his arms into the sleeves. "God, Heidi. I'm giving her my bone marrow. You act like I'm the bad guy."
"You're not the bad guy. You're just never here."
"I pay for everything in this house!"
"You pay. You don't stay." I dug my nails into my palm. "I hung those streamers. I baked that cake. She waited at the window for you all afternoon, and you walked in with them."
"Caden wanted to see the party."
"Caden blew out her candles."
"He's nine. He got excited."
"You were on your phone the whole time. Texting her."
Tasha touched his arm. "We were just sorting out the carpool for soccer. It's nothing."
"I wasn't talking to you."
Brad moved between us.
"Don't speak to her like that. She's a guest in our house."
"She's a guest at every birthday. Every holiday. Every night you've missed."
"You've been crazy for months," he said.
"Our daughter is dying, Brad!"
"And I'm the one saving her!"
He shouted it loud enough to rattle the hall mirror.
In the dining room, Clara flinched.
I lowered my voice.
"You left our anniversary dinner because her sink was leaking."
"Her kitchen was flooding."
"You missed Clara's sixth birthday because he had a fever of a hundred."
"He was crying for me."
"Clara was crying for you last month. She threw up bile all night after chemo and asked you to hold her hair. Where were you?"
He looked at the coats.
"You were at his school open house," I said. "She posted the pictures. Front row. You wore the tie I gave you for Christmas."
"Caden doesn't have a dad," he said quietly. "Somebody has to show up for him."
"Clara has a dad. She needed him to show up here."
"I'll be at the hospital at six-thirty," he said. "Have her ready."
He walked past me and knocked my shoulder.
He didn't look toward the dining room.
He didn't say goodbye to the little girl in the crown.
The front door shut behind the three of them.
He didn't lock it.
I stood in the hall listening to the fridge hum.
Then I went back to Clara.
She had pushed her plate away. The frosting had gone soft and shiny under the lights.
"Is Daddy gone?"
"He had to run an errand."
She was tearing her napkin into thin white strips.
"Caden gets to go home with him."
"Caden is borrowing him for a little bit."
The lie sat in my mouth like a stone.
Clara looked up at me.
"Will Daddy come tomorrow?"
I had counted.
The rainy night my car died on the freeway and he couldn't come because he was building a bed for Tasha's guest room.
The Thanksgiving he left before the turkey to glue Caden's toy truck.
Ninety-eight times. Tonight made ninety-nine.
If Caden scraped his knee at breakfast, Brad would miss the harvest.
If Tasha got a flat tire, Clara would lie on that table waiting.
I knelt beside her chair and pulled her into my arms.
She weighed nothing. Her heart was going fast against my chest.
"No," I said.
"He won't?"
"We're not waiting for him this time." I wiped her cheek with my thumb. "Mommy's going to fix it."
"Promise?"
"Pinky promise."
I carried her up to bed and sat in the dark until the medicine pulled her under.
Then I went out to the landing and called Clara's doctor.
It rang three times.
"It's after ten, Heidi. Is she spiking?"
"She's asleep. She's fine."
"Then what's wrong?"
The family photo hung across from me. Brad, me, and Clara at four, with a full head of curls.
I turned it face down on the hall table.
"I need to change tomorrow."
"Heidi, Brad's prep is at six-thirty."
"Brad won't be there."
"He's the primary match."
"I know. He isn't coming."
The line went dead quiet for a long moment.
"If we lose the donor, we postpone. Clara doesn't have time to postpone."
"We're not postponing. I want Plan B."
"Plan B is you. We talked about this. You're a worse match, and you're anemic. The harvest will flatten you."
"I don't care what it does to me. Can you do it?"
"You'd be admitted. You'd be in a hospital bed the same days she is."
"Then put my bed next to hers."
"Are you sure?"
"I've never been surer of anything."
I hung up and stood there, waiting for my hands to shake.
They didn't.
I opened my phone to text my mother about the morning.
Tasha's page was the first thing on my screen.
Hope for Caden. Sixty-one thousand followers.
The newest photo was ten minutes old.
A bald little girl in a pink paper crown, her face turned away, in front of a chocolate cake with seven candles.
My cake. My crown. My daughter.
The caption said, "Brave Caden's last birthday before his transplant."
Under it: "His hero, Uncle Brad, donates his marrow tomorrow at 6:30 a.m. Please pray. Every dollar helps."
Want to keep talking to characters like these? Chat with AI romance characters: AI Boyfriend · AI Girlfriend · Dark Romance · Fantasy Romance · BL (Boys’ Love) · Billionaire Boyfriend · Mafia Boyfriend · Possessive Boyfriend · Hockey Boyfriend · Older Boyfriend · K-Drama Boyfriend · Anime Boyfriend · Vampire Boyfriend · Werewolf Boyfriend · Demon Boyfriend · Fae Romance · GL (Girls’ Love) · Anime Girlfriend · Goth & Alt Girlfriend · Gamer Girlfriend · Tsundere Girlfriend · Fantasy Girlfriend