Page 110 of The Way Home

“Right, but… can you not tell him I freaked out?” Jamie wiped his glasses clean and slid them back onto his nose. “I don’t want him worrying. He’ll want me to stop biking, and I really want to work through this.”

JB eyed him skeptically. “I will not say anything,” he said slowly, “unless I am asked directly.”

Jamie nodded. That was good enough. The tension finally drained from JB’s shoulders, but Jamie still felt terrible for worrying both him and Caleb.

“Want to go to the museum café for a coffee?” he offered in a transparent attempt to make amends. JB rolled his eyes and headed for the door.

“The very least you can do is buy me an espresso,” he said dryly. “Making me worry like a mother hen.”

Jamie grabbed his bag and hurried after him. Over his shoulder, JB added, “Oh…and Clarencedefinitelymoved that plinth.”

Jamie threw his hands up. “I knew it!”

Over the next few hours, JB helped Jamie set up the exhibit and make it absolutelyperfect. With a quick text to Caleb that he was leaving in the next hour, the two of them went back to their office to snatch up their things and walked out of the museum together. As always, they took their time and chatted, maneuvering the museum crowds to finally reach the Staff Only exit.

Once outside, JB hiked his designer bag up his shoulder with a hesitant smile, eyes flicking to where Jamie’s hands were unlocking his bike.

“Want to walk to the Tube together?”

“No, it’s alright.” Jamie glanced at the path leading to the motorway. Traffic wasn’t too bad yet.

“I’m going to…” He indicated his bike with his eyebrows, making JB frown. Deciding this wasn’t a battle he was going to win, JB pulled out his phone and waved it at Jamie.

“Call me if you need me.”

Jamie grunted a thanks and plopped his helmet on his head before mounting his bike. The moment he straddled the seat, his heart rate kicked up. “Pull it together, Jamie,” he muttered angrily to himself. He stood like that, helmet on but going nowhere, for who knows how long.

Caleb crossed theroom to grab the resistance bands Sally had used and stopped short when he realized they weren’t there. He stood there for a second, staring at the empty space.

“Caleb?” Angie called from the floor where she was doing calf exercises. “What are you looking for?”

“Uh—sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck and walked over to the equipment bin. Apparently, he’d already put them away.

This was usually his favorite time of the day—after practice when everyone cleared out except the few women he was working with on recovery. After his session with Sally, Ang had come in to do her exercises. It was a nice routine, giving him extra time to catch up with them and organize the equipment room.

Today, he just stared at the rack of tape and foam rollers for a long moment before deciding it could wait until tomorrow. Feeling Angie’s gaze on his back, he walked over and settled at his desk. It had been a while since Caleb had feltthisexhausted.

In college, he’d pulled a few all-nighters, which obviously wasn’t great. And when Jamie was in the hospital, he’d probably averaged about two hours of sleep every night. But that type of exhaustion had led to hypervigilance—Caleb had beengo go gowhen Jamie got out of the hospital, making sure he had everything he needed, making every appointment, and was comfortable.

This felt different. It was like his brain had forgotten how to focus on a thought for more than thirty seconds. And when somethingdidstick, his mind turned it into the worst possible scenario.

Sitting at his desk, Caleb stared down at the piece of paper in front of him. A training plan that he owed Sally for the pain she’d been having in her back. He’d made practically no progress on it.

Glancing across the room, he saw Angie lying on the exercise mat with her phone in her hand.

“Are you doing your exercises, Ang?” he called. “Or are you texting that hot cricket player?”

Angie rolled her eyes, and Caleb immediately recognized where Freya gotthatfacial expression.

Returning his attention to his desk—deciding that he probably wouldn’t be making much headway on this training plan today—he pulled out his phone. Like a fucking weirdo, he pulled up Jamie’s location. The tinyJblinked at him from the British Library, indicating that Jamie was, in fact, at work. Because why wouldn’t he be at work? It was fucking Tuesday.

Caleb squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push down the thoughts that immediately followed.What if he doesn’t make it home? What if the bike malfunctions?

He’d never dealt with this kind of anxiety before, and he had no fucking clue how to manage it. His heart softened at the message from Jamie, apologizing for worrying him. Notably absent was any explanation for why he’d been late. Dread curled in his stomach as he pulled up the text thread with Bri.

Bri

The doctor’s confirmed it’s stage four. Dad’s refusing chemo.