Epilogue

OLIVIA

So, that’s the tale of my first three years. Dr. J was right, it worked. We’ve been a happy family for fifteen years.

Mom took over the bakery and turned it into a thriving business. Nanna Lizzie and Grand-pops Jim couldn’t be prouder. They’re always just a phone call away.

Grand-pops doesn’t work at the university anymore. He retired when I was ten. Nanna, ever the busy bee, helps Mom at the original bakery.

Mom transformed the little bakery into a brand, aptly named “Little Bakery.”

She owns about fifty of them across the States, all housed in small buildings. She believes that’s the only way to ensure quality. And I must say, I agree.

I’ve sampled treats from several of them, and each one is uniquely delicious.

That’s another reason why the concept is so successful. The bakers can add their own flair to the original menu with Mom’s approval.

And Dad? He and I are like two peas in a pod. We do everything together, and like any great dad, he does the same with the twins. We each have our special bond with him.

Unlike many of my friends, whose parents have a special bond with just one kid, my dad makes sure he has a unique connection with each of us.

Owen and Dad bond over cars and football. I don’t get the fascination, but they can talk about them for hours.

Nora and Dad love to debate. They can argue about anything—even water. Who knew water could be so complex?

Then there’s me. Dad and I share a love for science. Ever since I got sick, we’ve been exploring new developments and conducting our own experiments.

And I’m still obsessed with ladybugs. I’m hoping to turn that into a career someday.

Ever since I got sick, I’ve had to go back for a check-up twice a year. Poppa was right, Jasmine is strict about those appointments.

The check-up routine is always the same. A PET scan, a blood check, and a full physical. I’ve never been worried about the results, though, because I always know that everything is fine.

But at my last appointment, I had a question for Dr. Jasmine. I was about to turn eighteen, and my life was about to truly begin.

So a week ago, I gathered my courage and asked her.

~“Everything looks fine, Livvy,” Dr. Jasmine says with a smile. “Just like always.”~

~I trust her. She found the cancer, she treated it, and she’s always treated me like family.~

~“Dr. Jasmine, I have a question.” She raises her eyebrows and looks at me cautiously.~

~“What is it, honey?” I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.~

~“I’ve read about it, and I know it’s true, but I wanted to ask you. What are my chances of getting pregnant when I want to? Am I still fertile?”~

~She swallows hard.~

~“Chemo can affect your fertility, but we haven’t done any tests. If you want, we can do them now and go from there.”~

~If there’s one thing I’ve learned from all my research and experiments, it’s to always wait for the test results. Nothing is certain until you see the results.~

~Within an hour, we have the results. Jasmine looks at them, her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. I can’t wait any longer. I snatch the papers from her hands and read the results.~

~“Oh my God, I’m practically infertile,” I say, staring at the test results.~

~“No, you’re not. But if you want to have kids, we need to act now.”~

~“I can’t have a kid at eighteen! And if I wait, I’ll never have kids,” I tell her, fighting back tears.~

~I’ve always wanted kids, just like my mom. But not now. I want to get married, have a career~…

~“We can harvest some of your eggs and inseminate them before freezing. That way, you’ll have a higher chance of getting pregnant when you’re ready.”~

~That sounds amazing. But then it hits me~…

~“Wait, what if my future husband doesn’t like the idea of me having a child with someone else?” I mutter.~

~Jasmine just laughs. “You’ve been with Andrew for four years. He would understand, and it could be him.”~

~Andrew? But Andrew doesn’t even know about my cancer. None of my friends do. I didn’t want them to look at me differently, especially him.~

“You should tell him,” Mom says, pulling me out of my thoughts. I drop my head onto the table with a thud.

“He’ll hate me for this,” I groan. Dad starts laughing, his eyes—the ones I inherited—lighting up.

“That boy loves you more than life itself, baby girl,” he says.

“Sure! I’ll just say, ‘hey, we’ve only had sex a couple of times, but would you mind donating your sperm? So I can have babies in the future?’

“Yeah, Dad, he’ll love that.” I retort, banging my head on the table again.

“OLIVIA ROSE BROWN! YOU’VE HAD SEX?” Dad’s voice echoes through the house.

Mom, on the other hand, squeals and starts doing a happy dance. “She’s eighteen. I was her age when I did it. Don’t be such a prude, dear.”

~Gross, Mom.~

The front door swings open and Andrew is suddenly by my side.

“Hey, babe,” he greets me, planting a quick kiss on my lips.

“You’re lucky I trust you,” Dad warns, pointing a finger at Andrew, trying to keep a stern face. Mom smacks him on the back of his head, urging him to lighten up.

“Why did you tell him?” Andrew whispers to me. He knows something’s up.

“Alright, we’ll give you two some privacy. And yes, I’ll keep the twins out of the kitchen,” Mom says before I can even ask.

They exit the kitchen, or rather, Mom nudges Dad out, while he keeps shooting Andrew the ~I’m watching you~ look.

“What’s going on, Liv?” Andrew asks, concern etched on his face. He knows my parents wouldn’t leave unless it was something serious.

“I need to tell you something,” I confess, my gaze shifting from his worried blue eyes to my fidgeting fingers. I’m a bundle of nerves.

He places his hands over mine, a silent reassurance. “Liv, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”

I shake my head. “No, but I did,” I admit.

His eyes well up with tears. “What did you do?”

“I lied about something—or rather, I didn’t tell you something. Depends on how you see it, I guess,” I say, forcing a laugh.

“Who? Who was it?” he demands.

I look up at him, confused. “Who was what? What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Who did you kiss? Or sleep with? That’s the only thing that could be so bad that your parents had to leave the room,” he says.

I shake my head, shocked. “No, no, no! I didn’t cheat on you! What the hell, Andrew? How could you even think that? Don’t you trust me?” I yell, hurt by his accusation.

“If it’s not that, then what is it?” he asks, cautiously.

“I don’t know if I want to tell you, now. If you don’t trust me, why should I trust you with my biggest secret,” I retort.

That seems to hit him hard. “I do trust you. I was just scared. Your parents know everything about us, about you. So why would they leave?”

“Because they think this should come from me, since it was my decision to keep it from you and everyone else who isn’t family,” I explain.

I look him in the eye, and I know that I love him. But does he love me? Especially after how he just reacted?

“Oh,” he says, looking embarrassed.

“Why would you even think those things?”

“It was Greg,” he confesses. Of course it was. Greg is his best friend—and he’s been trying to drive a wedge between us for as long as we’ve been together.

“He asked me why you were always gone during school. Like you always do, twice a year,” he explains.

“And you thought I would cheat on you during those two times a year that I leave for two days? If I were cheating, wouldn’t I be away more than just two times a year? Really, Andrew…?” I roll my eyes.

“That does sound more reasonable,” he concedes. “But why do you go away?”

“That’s what I was going to tell you,” I say, a bit sharply.

“So, that’s the secret? Finally!” he scoots closer to me and grabs my hands.

“I’m trusting you with this. I don’t want anyone else to know,” I tell him seriously.

He nods, a look of anticipation on his face. He’s been wondering about this for years.

“I have doctor’s appointments twice a year in Sun Peaks,” I confess.

His eyes widen. “Doctor? Is everything okay?” he asks, scanning me up and down.

“I’m fine. But there was a time I wasn’t. It was a long time ago,” I assure him.

He lets out a relieved breath. “When?”

“When I was three, I was diagnosed with lung cancer,” I reveal. The tears start to flow as I remember the pain, the fear.

“Cancer? You had cancer?” He covers his mouth, dropping my hands.

“Yes, but I’ve been in remission ever since I got a stem cell transplant from the twins,” I explain.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, a hint of anger in his voice. And I understand—I should’ve told him years ago. But I didn’t want to be the cancer girl. He should respect my decision.

“I didn’t want you to look at me differently,” I admit.

He rolls his eyes. “Bullshit, Liv. I love you. But why are you telling me now?”

“Well, I had my check-up last week,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And?”

“Well, I asked my doctor to look into my fertility. Chemo reduces your chances of getting pregnant, and you know I want to be a mom one day.”

He nods. “Okay… And?”

“Well, if I don’t have my eggs harvested soon, I won’t ever be a mom,” I explain, stumbling over my words.

“What’s holding you back?” he questions, gesturing towards the door and practically pulling me along with him.

“I’ve got the eggs frozen, but that doesn’t guarantee anything. If the eggs are fertilized and become embryos, then technically, I have a better shot at becoming a mom when I’m ready.”

He halts abruptly. “Oh. And how would that work?” he inquires, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, I was hoping you’d be the one to donate, but if you’re not up for it, I could always go with an anonymous donor. I’d really prefer if you’d do it, but…” My voice trails off, too afraid to complete my thought.

I avert my gaze, not wanting to witness his reaction.

“But what if we’re not together when you decide you want kids?” he completes my sentence for me.

I nod, still avoiding his eyes.

“That’s crap! We’ve been a couple for years. Even if we don’t last, I’d be honored to do this for you. I’ll always love you, Olivia. Whether we’re together or not.”