Hooked

felt thick and clumsy. “Look at me.”
    It was a long moment before she reached for a towel to dry her hands, and turned to face him. That closed and contained look that had spelled doom to their relationship four years ago was back. “Talk to me. You owe me that much. You know I care about you, and I know you care about me, but something keeps getting in the way. I want to know what puts that hurt look in your eyes whenever I get close to you.”
    She didn’t respond at first.
    “What’s happened to you, Steph?” With each word he’d edged closer, and she leaned back, pressing into the counter behind her. Then, with a frantic look, she darted around him to stride back into the great room. He followed, and found her sitting at the polished walnut dining table. She waved him to a chair opposite her and he rubbed his palms down his thighs and sat. His words were heavy with need. “Just tell me.”
    A dozen dark and disturbing scenarios had crossed his mind in the last three days. A mugging. A lover’s betrayal. A rape. His throat tightened with dread as he watched her struggle with the revelation that threatened to end their second chance just as it was getting started.
    Her voice contained a faint quiver as she told him that she’d found a thickening a little under a year ago. It didn’t seem to be anything at first. She’d gone for a mammogram more to humor her doctor than out of concern.
    Finn blinked, listening but not really hearing. He’d asked her what had happened, and she was talking about some medical… Then he heard that word.
    Cancer.
    It took a moment to sink in, and when it did, he felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. That was the last thing he’d expected to hear from her beautiful lips. He was so stunned that at first he only heard one word out of three.
    Breast cancer. ILC—infiltrating lobular carcinoma. Two surgeries and a course of radiation. No BRCA genetic mutation, which was good. She’d be having a PET scan in a few weeks to learn if the cancer had shown up anywhere else. She was dealing fairly well with it, she said. She had changed her diet, now exercised regularly, and had even learned some meditation techniques. Green tea…anti-Cancer…five years…ten years out…survival rates were good…
    That word survival brought him out of his trance. The look on Steph’s face as she watched his shock and searched his reaction was wrenching. Fear, acceptance, pride, loss, pain, endurance…the entire gamut of human emotion was crammed into her lovely, anguished features.
    He didn’t have words at the moment, so instinctively reached for her hand.
    She pulled back and fisted her fingers in her lap.
    “I’m not the same woman you remember, Finn.”

Chapter Nine
    Steph’s heart was in her throat as she watched his eyes darken with memory and a chaos of feelings she couldn’t begin to guess. She hadn’t missed the way his gaze fell to her breasts, searching for signs of what was missing and what was still there. She couldn’t blame him. She would wonder the same in his place. The shame she felt horrified her, and she wanted to curl up in a ball.
    Tears stung her eyes as she struggled to remain in control against a sense of being anchorless and adrift. She hadn’t expected to feel this much loss when telling him. She’d thought she had dealt with all the major ramifications of the disease, but revealing to him her body’s weakness and her changed appearance was more devastating than she’d imagined possible.
    The rational part of her recoiled from her chaotic feelings. How could she be so humiliated by something she couldn’t control? Why did the loss of some breast tissue seem to nullify every other accomplishment of her life and leave her feeling damaged and undesirable?
    Yet that was exactly how she felt.
    She wasn’t aware she had closed her eyes until she felt Finn’s touch, and opened them. He was kneeling in front of her, cradling her face between his big hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.
    “I’m so sorry, Stephanie.”
    In that moment, she could see through those beautiful, dark amber eyes all the way to his soul. He ached for her, wanted to help her, comfort her.
    “Two surgeries?” he asked. She nodded. “They took quite a bit of your breast?” She nodded again. “What about lymph nodes?”
    “The pathology reports on the samples they took were negative.”
    He exhaled softly. “They got clear margins, right? They got it