Perfect Song (Mason Creek Book 2) by Lauren Runow (christmas read aloud .txt) 📕

up, and my mind starts to race at the thought of putting on an event and for such a good cause.

I pull out my phone and call Tucker, who answers on the second ring.

“Hey there, sweetheart.”

“Hi,” I say, melting at the sound of his voice. “Guess what.”

“What?” he asks, matching my excitement.

“I just got off the phone with my boss, and corporate has asked me to head up their annual give-back event.”

“Wow, that’s cool. What’s it for?”

“You’re never going to believe this … multiple sclerosis.”

He doesn’t say anything, and I wonder if the line’s gone dead. I pull my phone out to check and then press it back to my ear.

“Did you hear me? The event is for multiple sclerosis. Every year, they pick a different cause to give to. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Um, yeah.” His voice is quick and comes out monotone, like he’s suddenly focusing on something else and he couldn’t care less about our conversation. All happiness he spilled only seconds ago is completely gone.

“I think it’s going to be really neat. They want to raise funds and bring awareness to the disease.”

He’s quiet, and I pause to see if maybe I missed something.

How did his mood go from one hundred to zero real quick?

“That’s great, babe. I’m glad you’re happy. But sorry, I have to get going. I’ll see you when I get off?”

I furrow my brow. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you later.”

He hangs up without saying another word, leaving me confused on what the hell just happened.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Tucker

As I leave the doctor’s office, I turn down a side road and drive away from the town. Of course they prepared me for what they thought was going on with me, but no one can honestly be prepared to hear they have multiple sclerosis.

When I made the appointment, I didn’t tell Justine because I didn’t want her to hear if it was true until I had time to process. Now that I’m alone, I wish she were with me.

I don’t want to call her because this is not a conversation you have over the phone, but now, I question how to tell her.

I kick myself for being so stubborn in the first place as I make another turn away from the city and drive out to nowhere to clear my head.

Every mile I drive, I worry more. I worry about Matthew and not being able to provide for his needs. What if I get worse and can’t work? What if I can’t play guitar anymore? Who’s going to pay for his college if he doesn’t get a scholarship? I know he has so much potential to be somebody, and it terrifies me, the thought of not being around to help him get there.

What kind of father am I, or what kind of man can I be to Justine if I’m too weak to be the person I am now? I don’t want them or anyone else ever having to take care of me. I’m supposed to be their provider, their protector, not the other way around. That would only make me feel like less of a man.

An hour later, I’m still as lost as I was when I left the doctor’s office, and all I can think is that I want Justine by my side.

I find myself at Java Jitters. When I notice her mom’s car parked I text her that I’m outside. I don’t want anyone seeing me react in any certain way, and right now, I’m clueless on how all of this is going to come out.

Within a minute, she’s outside, carrying her bag and heading toward my truck. It’s only one in the afternoon, so I know she’s suspicious as to why I’m here.

She hops in the truck, and I grab her by the back of her neck, dying to taste her lips. I need that release right now that I know only she can offer. The emotions running through me almost boil over, but I tuck them back in and drive away.

Her hand reaches over to rub my leg, but she stays silent as we head out to the old bridge. I don’t know why I’m going there, but for some reason, the history of it feels comforting right now.

After I park, it’s not until I push my seat all the way back, widen my legs, and hit my head back on the headrest, letting out a deep moan, that she asks, “What’s going on?” She grabs my hand and holds it tightly.

“I had a doctor’s appointment this morning,” I say, keeping my eyes glued on the steering wheel.

“You did? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come with you.”

I glance her way, fighting all the fear of the unknown that’s running through me. I know I don’t have to say anything, and the expression I’m trying to hide says it all. With the way her eyes soften, I know she knows without me having to say a word.

She scoots over on the bench seat of my truck and straddles my waist. She runs her fingers through mine, and we sit in silence for a few minutes.

I inhale and slowly let it out, and she turns her head to face me better.

“So, what’s the game plan? Did they tell you what the next step is?”

“He wants to start me on some treatments, both oral and some injections that he says will keep the flare-ups down.”

She places her finger under my chin and makes me look her in the eye. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve done a ton of research on this. There are medications and therapies you can do. Even some herbal options. We can look into it all. You’re going to be okay.”

I nod, saying, “I know,” but I’m not sure how much I believe my own words.

“Don’t get inside your head with this. There are tons of people living everyday lives with the disease, and you’d never know.”

I drop my head