Page 111 of The Way Home

Jesus fuck. Of course his father was refusing chemo. He had never met a doctor he trusted and had fought his mother tooth and nail when she’d gotten the kids vaccinated.

He typed back

I’m looking at flights. I’ll let you knowwhen I’m coming.

Plopping the phone back on the desk, Caleb leaned forward and hung his head in his hands.

Stage four lung cancer.

He didn’t like his dad all that much, but shit—he didn’t wish that kind of hell on anyone. From a quick Google search and a very thorough rabbit-hole explanation from Jamie, he was fairly certain the symptoms were absolutely horrible.

For the first time in his life, he found himself pitying his father.

“Caleb?” Angie’s voice was closer now, and when he lifted his head, he saw her standing a few feet from his desk. “What’s going on?”

Caleb sighed. “Just… still feeling weird about Jamie biking to work.” His eyes flicked briefly to his phone before he looked back at her. “And my dad’s sick. Looks like I might have to go back to Ohio.”

Angie’s brown eyes softened with pity. “I’m so sorry.” She dragged over a chair, spun it around, and straddled it, leaning her arms across the back. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Are you just trying to get out of your PT?”

“Yep. You caught me.”

Caleb rubbed his eyes. “I don’t know, Ang. I’m just… tired.” His shoulders felt heavy, and the dull ache in his chest made it feel like gravity was pulling him toward the floor. “I’ve been looking forward to the end of the season, and now I’ll probably have to miss the last few games.”

When he looked up, Angie’s frown had deepened. Guilt slid into the buffet of emotions currently clouding Caleb’s mind. He felt like a dark cloud, bringing everyone down.

“Jesus, now I’m here complaining toyouabout the season,” he continued, shaking his head, “when you’ve been dealing with this injury…”

“Hey.” Angie nudged the chair a little closer. “It’s not like that, okay? You’re just as much a part of the team as the rest of us.” She shrugged lightly. “My pain isn’t more important than yours and vice versa. Your dad’s sick, dude. If you have to go home, you have to go home.”

“Yeah.”

She tilted her head at him, like she wanted him to say more. Usually, he wasn’t this quiet or gloomy. “Gotta do what you gotta do for family, right?”

“Yeah. Family.” Caleb glanced down at his phone again, fingers itching to check Jamie’s location. It was entirely possible he was fucking losing his mind, but he just needed to know he was okay. Completely made-up images of Jamie being struck by a bus filled his mind and, with them, came a wave of nausea—

“Alright.” Ang slammed her palms onto the desk, startling Caleb. His eyes snapped open—when had he squeezed them shut?—and he watched as she stood. Pushing her chair away, she nodded toward the exercise mats.

“On the floor. Let’s go.” Caleb stood immediately because Angie was using her mom voice, and her mom voice was terrifying.

“What are we doing?” he asked as she led him over and dropped onto one of the mats. She patted the ground beside her, grabbed a couple of yoga blocks, and then reached over to maneuver his shoulders until he was lying back with his chest open.

“Are we doing yoga?”

She snorted as she settled into the same position beside him. “No. We are going to lie like this and talk.”

Caleb felt ridiculous, but he had to admit it felt pretty good on his back.

“And then we’ll go eat,” she added.

Caleb frowned up at the fluorescent lights. “Are you mothering me right now? Putting me down for a nap and giving me a snack?”

“Kinda. Now talk.”

Letting gravity take over, Caleb melted into the mat. The block wedged between his shoulder blades opened up his chest and, despite the alarm bells in his mind telling him to go check Jamie’s location, he felt some of the tightness in his body ease.

“What’s the number one thing stressing you out right now?” she asked.