For Better or Worse

What the fuck was that about?

Maybe it was just the guilt talking. He still bit her head off anytime she tried to talk to him about something real. Things with Heather were starting to feel a good deal more complicated than he’d been prepared for, and not because she wanted to know about his personal life.

But because he wanted to tell her.

A small, fragile part of Josh wanted Heather to know the whole him, the risks and the danger of who he really was, what life with him would be like. But he was too terrified that in letting her know about his past, she’d also have to discover what life without him would be like.

He wouldn’t do that to someone he . . . liked.

“Okay, she’s asleep again,” Jamie said, coming back into the room and fiddling with her baby monitor, disrupting Josh’s rather disturbing train of thought. “I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to be this easy. Do you think I’m going to pay for this later?”

“Probably when she’s a teenager.”

“Ugh, I don’t even want to think about that.” Jamie resumed her spot on the couch. “Okay, so, seriously, I want to know what’s going on with you and this Heather girl. You might as well start talking, you know I’m not going to relent until you tell me what’s going on.”

Josh grunted. He did know. His mom won the award for meddling, but his sister took first prize for persistence.

“You already know the important parts. Her name is Heather, she’s my neighbor and my friend. End of story.”

“And you’re sleeping with her,” Jamie added helpfully.

“Ah—”

“Right. End of story, my ass. Is she your girlfriend now? Mom said she seemed like your girlfriend.”

Maybe. “No,” he said out loud, annoyed by how defensive he sounded.

“So let me get this straight. You like her. She’s your friend. You live next door to each other. You’re having sex. But she’s not your girlfriend.”

It sounded as ridiculous coming out of her mouth as it had Trevor’s, but Josh held firm. “Right.”

“Okaaaaay,” Jamie said in a skeptical tone. “And what would make her your girlfriend?”

“Nothing.”

“So you’re a pig.”

Josh laughed and rubbed at the back of his neck. “It’s not like that. She knows the score. She’s not exactly dragging me to meet her parents.”

“And yet you dragged her to meet your parents,” Jamie said smugly.

Shit. He’d walked right into that one.

Josh took out his phone and pretended to scroll through his sports app, affecting a casual tone. “I’m not interested in a relationship.”

“Why not?”

He glanced up and gave her a steady look. You know why.

Her look was a mixture of sadness and exasperation. “J. You’re not sick anymore.”

But I could be at any time. I could relapse in an instant, and I don’t need yet another person I care about mourning me.

He said none of this. Josh knew it was wrong to keep his family in the dark, but they’d already been through so much—his parents and sister, even his brother-in-law, had all lost years worrying about him already. The least he could do in return was to give them peace of mind now, however false it might be.

“You’re not sick, right?” she said, her voice a little bit higher than usual.

“No, I’m fine,” he said quietly. It was the truth. His last regular doctor’s appointment had confirmed that he was still in remission. “But think about what not being able to help me did to you. That almost killed you, and in turn almost killed me. I can’t put someone else through that. I won’t.”

“Because you care about her,” Jamie said.

Josh lifted his shoulders. No use denying it. He did care about Heather, which is why he wouldn’t do either of them the disservice of falling in love with her. Or letting her fall in love with him.

“You’re not doing that thing, are you?” Jamie asked with narrowed eyes.

“What thing?”

“That guy thing. Where you push her away for her own good, or some shit?”

“I’m a cancer survivor, Jamie. Not an egomaniac with a playboy complex.”