It was Thursday, January 24, and Nick was feeling particularly conniving. It was almost noon, time for his weekly dose of the six little yellow pills that he hated with a passion, and he was debating over whether or not to take them.
Up until that point, he had followed his medication schedule quite faithfully, almost always taking his pills at the right times and on the right days. The problem was, recently, he had been developing canker sores again, the kind he had gotten while on chemo. They always seemed to crop up on Friday or Saturday, and he was almost positive it was the dose of Methotrexate he took every Thursday that was causing them. Even after realizing this, he had kept taking the drugs, knowing that Dr. Kingsbury had prescribed them for a reason.
But this week was different. His twenty-fourth birthday was on Monday, in four days, and he had big plans for the night. He and Leah would be going out to dinner, just the two of them, for what she thought was simply a birthday celebration. But it was going to be more than that.
Smiling, he thought of the treasure that lay hidden beneath stacks of boxers in his top dresser drawer. Positioned on a bed of black satin inside a small, black velvet case, was a ring. Large, sparkling, and beautiful, it had a three carat, radiant-cut diamond set in a band of yellow gold and flanked by a one-half carat, emerald-cut diamond on either side. It was an engagement ring.
After weeks of thought and consideration, Nick had decided to ask Leah to marry him. They have been living together for over three months, and she was the mother of his unborn child. It just seemed like the right thing to do. And besides, he loved her... didn’t he?
He planned to propose after she gave him his present, whenever that would be. He even had somewhat of a speech planned out.
“This is wonderful, babe,” he would say, after opening whatever she had gotten for him. “But there’s something else I was hoping for this year.”
“What’s that, Nick?” she would ask, looking perplexed and disappointed, thinking she had bought him the wrong present.
“The best gift I could ever ask for,” he would continue, looking right into her gorgeous brown eyes, “would be to have you as my wife. Leah Gaylers, will you marry me?”
It all sounded so perfect in his head, though he had a feeling he’d stammer like crazy and make a total fool of himself when it came down to it. But hey, as long as she said yes, it wouldn’t be a problem.
He smiled. She would say yes. He didn’t doubt that for an instant.
As his head descended from the clouds, Nick’s attention returned to the laptop computer in front of him. The website had loaded, and he scrolled down it, skimming through basic information about his medication.
“Aha,” he said aloud, as he reached the section about side effects. “‘Sore mouth and taste change,’” he read. “‘Your mouth may become sore, or you may notice small ulcers during this treatment.’ Yeah, tell me about it,” he chuckled bitterly. So that was it... the Methotrexate was causing canker sores, and if he took them that day, his mouth would probably still be raw and sore by Monday night. And that took all the fun out of dinner, not to mention any mouth-to-mouth action with Leah later that night.
“Eh, it won’t hurt to skip one week, will it?” he wondered aloud and scrolled further down the page, looking to see what it said about missing a dose. He found a section called “Additional Information” and skimmed over it. His eyes were immediately drawn to the word “fertility,” and he stopped to read. “Your ability to become pregnant or father a child may be affected by taking this drug.”
Wow, Nick thought, guess I was lucky. Leah had conceived just days before he had taken the first round of Methotrexate. But as he thought about this, he wondered if other anticancer drugs had the same affect and decided to do another search.
“‘Not all drugs affect your fertility,’” he read on another site. “‘But others can reduce the number of sperm you produce and affect the sperm's ability to fertilize a female egg during sex. If this happens it may be temporary or it may mean that you will no longer be able to father children. However, it is important to use contraception throughout your treatment as pregnancy is not advisable - the drugs could harm the baby.’”
His heart began to race. What if the baby was born with some kind of defect that he had caused? Leah’s doctor had said the baby was fine, but what if there was a problem they would not know about until later? It would be all his fault...
He felt sick to his stomach and knew he had to talk to Leah about it.
Maybe I’ll call Dr. Kingsbury first and ask her, he thought. Surely his doctor would know if any of the chemotherapy drugs he had been on could have hurt the baby.
Leah was off shopping, so he decided to call then, while she wasn’t in the house to overhear. He looked up the number for the hospital, and after being shuffled from department to department and put on hold several times, his doctor’s familiar voice greeted his ears.
“Dr. Kingsbury speaking.”
“Hi, Dr. K... this is Nick Carter,” Nick spoke into the phone, his voice shaking slightly.
“Oh, Nick, hi! How are you?”
“Um, okay. I... I just had a question.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Um... well...” Nick hesitated nervously, “my... my girlfriend’s pregnant. S-she’s about six months along now, and I was just wondering if... if the c-chemo or any of the drugs I’ve been taking could have hurt the baby.”
There was a pause, and then the doctor said, “Well... I’m actually quite surprised she was able to conceive. Six months... that would put the conception date at sometime in August, right?”
“Uh, yeah,” Nick answered, feeling himself blush.
“So right after you finished chemo. Honestly, Nick, most chemotherapy drugs make men temporarily infertile. So you were one of the lucky few not to have that problem, I guess. Has your girlfriend been seeing an OB?”
“Yeah... she goes once a month,” replied Nick.
“That’s good. Very good. And there haven’t been any problems?”
“No.”
“Well... then I wouldn’t worry about it. There is a risk, but if she’s already six months along, and no problems have been spotted, there’s a good chance the baby was unaffected. You should probably have her mention this to her OB next time she goes; her doctor might want to run some extra tests. But for now, there’s really nothing you can do but wait and see. Don’t dwell on it too much.”
“Okay,” Nick said slowly, feeling slightly relieved. “Well, thanks, Dr. Kingsbury.”
“You’re welcome, Nick. Good luck to you and your girlfriend.”
Fiancée, Nick thought in his head, as he thanked the doctor again and told her goodbye. Or at least that’s what he hoped Leah would be in four days.
***
Nick didn’t mention what he had found out about the side effects of his chemotherapy to Leah, at least not at first. In the days that followed, there was only one thought on his mind: Monday night and the proposal.
On the afternoon of his twenty-fourth birthday, Leah sent him out with a grocery list to do some shopping, which was probably just a way to get him out of the house so that she could wrap his present or something. Though he hated grocery shopping, he went without complaint, only to realize halfway to the store that he had forgotten the list she had made him.
He turned back, prepared to stop by the house just long enough to grab the list off the kitchen table and leave again. When he reached home, he ducked into the kitchen and got the small slip of paper, covered in Leah’s large, bubbly handwriting. And as he was walking back out again, he heard Leah’s high-pitched laugh ring out loudly from the adjacent living room. Frowning in puzzlement, he hesitated, then tip-toed across the kitchen and peered into the living room.
Leah was perched on the couch, the phone to her ear, giggling at whatever the person on the other line was saying. Her back was to him, and she apparently had not heard him come in, for she made no move to turn around. Shrugging, he turned to walk out again, when he heard his own name.
“-Nick’s birthday,” Leah was saying. “Yeah, we’re just going out to dinner.” She paused, and Nick paused as well, knowing he should leave. And he started to, in fact, but the next words that left Leah’s mouth and carried into the kitchen stopped him in mid-step. “No,” she laughed. “The poor boy still has no idea. He’s convinced the baby’s his.”
Nick froze, his heart pounding loudly in his chest, so loudly, in fact, that he was sure Leah would be able to hear it in the next room. He’s convinced the baby’s his. What was that supposed to mean? That the baby wasn’t his?
He couldn’t help but listen now, so he crept back to the doorway and stood just beyond it, hidden from Leah’s view, waiting for her to continue.
“Yeah,” she giggled. “He’s completely clueless. We never even had sex that night, Lynn! He fucking passed out before I could get anywhere with him! No, of course he doesn’t remember that; he was drunk off his ass. So he woke up to find us both naked in bed, and he assumed we had sex. And I kinda went with it and made him think we did.” She giggled again.
“Yeah, I know, I’m evil. But I was just messing with him for fun. I didn’t think there would be any benefits to it. But then I found out I was pregnant. And I got my brilliant idea... go to Nick, tell him the baby’s his, and see if he’s decent enough to offer to support me and ‘his’ baby. I mean, David’s all right, and I know that if he knew I was pregnant with his kid, he would have supported me. Hell, he probably would have married me. But, I dunno... David’s just not Nick. He’s got money, all right, but not like Nick. And Nick’s famous, girl. So of course I’d take the Backstreet Boy over the computer geek; I mean, who wouldn’t? And lucky for me, Nick’s a decent guy. It was weird at first, but now I’ve got him wrapped around my little finger. The boy’s completely whipped. He’s gonna propose; I just know he is.”
Feeling absolutely sick to his stomach, Nick’s thoughts flashed to the ring in his dresser. The ring he had planned to give Leah that very night, when he asked for her hand in marriage.
“And then,” Leah was saying, a malicious tone in her voice, “when he kicks the bucket, I’ll get everything. I don’t know exactly what he’s worth, Lynn... but it’s a lot, I’ll tell you that much. I’ll never have to work another day in my life.” She paused. “What do you mean, what if he doesn’t die? He has cancer, Lynn. People die from cancer. Okay, so he’s in remission or whatever now. Big deal. That doesn’t mean he will be forever. My grandpa had cancer, too, and he was in remission for awhile. Then it came back. And he died. If the same thing happens to Nick, I’ll get his entire fortune. He hates his fucking family; they’re not gonna get shit. It will all go to me, his loving, devoted wife.” She cackled, her voice laden with sarcasm. “And hey, if I pretend to be the grieving widow, maybe I’ll even get a few interviews and stuff. A little publicity would be nice, don’t you think? Maybe it would get my foot in the door for an acting career; whaddya think?”
Nick couldn’t stand to hear anymore. His knees buckled, and he sank to the kitchen floor, his entire body trembling. So this was the real Leah. This was the girl he had intended to marry. She had lied to him again and again, used him for his money and his fame, gotten him to not only support her and a child that wasn’t even his, but to fall in love with her. Again.
Against his will, miserable tears began to slide down his cheeks. He was beyond humiliated. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have been so blind? And how... how could anyone be so cruel? He had fallen for her... and he thought she had fallen for him too. But it was just one of her many lies. Their whole relationship had been nothing but lies.
“Well, I better go. He’ll be home from the store soon, and I need to go get his damn birthday present wrapped. Yeah, I’ll talk to you later. Bye, girl.”
Vaguely, Nick heard a click as Leah shut off the phone and then approaching footsteps. She was heading toward the kitchen, but he made no effort to move. Let her find him there; what did he care?
Her bare feet slapped against the tiled floor as she entered the kitchen, and then he heard her gasp. He looked up to see her standing there, just beyond the threshold, the phone still in her hand and a stricken expression on her face, which had gone white with shock. “N-Nick?” she whispered hoarsely, and he could see the hand that was holding the phone begin to tremble.
He wanted to yell at her and scream at her. Hell, he wanted to hit her. But he found he did not have the strength. Instead, he stayed where he was, slumped brokenly on the floor, staring pathetically up at her through red-rimmed eyes, the tears spilling out of them and hitting the floor with soft splats.
“What are you doing home already, honey?” Leah asked, her voice high with poorly-faked cheeriness.
“Don’t even give me that bullshit,” he growled, glaring up at her, his voice low and choked with tears. “I heard what you said. Every goddamn word of it.”
She bit her lip, then smiled uncertainly. “Oh, Nicky,” she said, forcing a laugh. “I-I was just kidding. That was my friend, Lynn – you know Lynn – and we were just joking around-“
“Bullshit!” his voice rose in anger, as he struggled to his feet. Leah took a step back, cowering as he towered over her petite frame. “You’re gone, Leah. Get the fuck out of my house. In fact, get the fuck out of my life. Now.” He didn’t shout at her, his voice remaining surprisingly calm. But its grim tone was enough to make her take the hint. She did not protest or make excuses or beg him to change his mind. Instead, she simply nodded, suddenly as meek as mouse, tears welling up in her eyes and beginning to fall silently down her stricken face.
“Pack your shit,” Nick commanded quietly. “I want you out of here by tonight. If you’re not, I’ll call the police to get you the fuck off my property. Get it?”
She nodded again. “I-I’ll just go pack now then,” she whispered, hanging her head, still crying. He wondered if this was all just another front, an act to get him to feel sorry for her. But it didn’t work. He held his ground, and she obeyed, quickly and quietly packing up her possessions.
By six o’clock that evening, when she and Nick were supposed to have been seated in one of Tampa’s finest restaurants, eating a gourmet meal in celebration of Nick’s birthday, Leah Gaylers was gone, out of his house and out of his life forever.
***
