Chapter 5 The Weight of Truth

Friday morning arrived with the weight of consequences.

Elena woke early in Alex's bed-they'd finally moved from the couch to his bedroom around three AM, both too exhausted to do more than curl up together and sleep. His arm was draped over her waist, his breathing steady and peaceful.

She carefully extracted herself without waking him and checked her phone. 7:30 AM. Ollie's appointment was at ten.

She had a text from Ruby: *Called your boss. Told him you have food poisoning. You're covered for today.*

Elena smiled. Ruby really was the best friend anyone could ask for.

She was trying to decide whether to wake Alex or leave a note when his eyes opened, immediately finding hers.

"Good morning," he said, his voice rough with sleep.

"Good morning. I have to go-Ollie's appointment is at ten."

He sat up immediately, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I'll drive you."

"Alex, you don't have to-"

"I want to. Besides, I'd like to be there. If that's okay."

Something in her chest tightened. "You want to come to my brother's cancer checkup?"

"I want to support you. Both of you." He cupped her face, his gray eyes serious. "Let me be there for you."

She should say no. Should keep this part of her life separate. But looking at him, at the genuine care in his expression, she couldn't.

"Okay," she whispered.

They stopped at her apartment first so she could change and check on Ollie. Her brother was already up, dressed, looking pale but determined.

"You look nervous," Ollie said when she walked in with Alex behind her.

"I'm not nervous."

"Liar." Ollie's eyes shifted to Alex. "You came."

"I hope that's alright," Alex said.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's good. Ellie needs backup. She pretends to be tough but she's actually a marshmallow."

"I'm standing right here," Elena said, echoing her words from the bar the night before.

"We know!" both men said in unison, then grinned at each other.

"Oh no," Elena muttered. "You two are bonding. This is terrible."

"This is great," Ollie corrected. He grabbed his jacket, moving slower than usual. The treatment always left him weak for a few days. "Ready?"

The drive to St. Catherine's was quiet. Elena sat in the back with Ollie, holding his hand, while Alex drove. She watched him in the rearview mirror, saw the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was tight.

He was worried. About her. About Ollie.

When had she started meaning enough to him that her pain became his?

Dr. Rachel Kim was waiting for them in her office, her expression professionally neutral in a way that made Elena's stomach drop.

"Elena. Ollie." Dr. Kim's eyes shifted to Alex, curious. "And you are?"

"Alex Hartley. I'm a friend of the family."

"Well, friend of the family, you're welcome to stay if Elena is comfortable with it."

Elena nodded, unable to speak past the fear lodged in her throat.

They all settled into chairs facing Dr. Kim's desk. The doctor pulled up some charts on her computer, and Elena tried to read her expression, tried to find hope or despair in the careful neutrality.

"The results from Tuesday's treatment are showing promise," Dr. Kim began, and Elena felt like she could breathe again. "Ollie's white blood cell count has improved, and the leukemia markers are down."

"That's good," Elena managed. "That's really good."

"It is. However-" Dr. Kim's pause made Elena's brief relief evaporate, "-we're not seeing the dramatic improvement we hoped for. The cancer is responding to treatment, but slowly. More slowly than I'd like."

"What does that mean?" Ollie asked, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes.

"It means we need to be more aggressive. There's a new treatment protocol I'd like to try-it's experimental, but it's showing excellent results in cases like yours."

"What kind of results?" Elena asked.

"Sixty percent remission rate. Eighty percent improvement in overall survival." Dr. Kim leaned forward, her expression earnest. "Ollie, I think this could be what turns the corner for you. But I need to be honest-it's expensive. More expensive than what we've been doing."

Elena's stomach dropped. "How expensive?"

"The full protocol runs about fifty thousand dollars over six months."

The number hit Elena like a physical blow. Fifty thousand dollars. She barely had fifty dollars in her savings account.

"There are programs, financial assistance, payment plans-" Dr. Kim started, but Elena barely heard her.

Fifty thousand dollars. Ollie's life, reduced to a number she could never hope to reach.

"We'll figure it out," she heard herself say. "Whatever it takes, we'll figure it out."

"Elena-" Dr. Kim's voice was gentle, pitying. "I know this is overwhelming. Take some time to think about it, research your options. We don't need to start immediately, but within the next month would be ideal."

The rest of the appointment passed in a blur. Forms to sign, prescriptions to fill, follow-up appointments to schedule. Elena moved through it on autopilot, her mind stuck on that number.

Fifty thousand dollars.

In the car, Ollie was quiet, staring out the window. Alex drove without speaking, but Elena could feel his tension, his desire to help and his knowledge that she wouldn't accept it.

"I'm fine," Ollie said finally, his voice small. "The treatment's working. Just slowly. That's okay."

"It's more than okay," Elena said, forcing brightness into her voice. "You're getting better. That's what matters."

"And the new treatment?" Ollie turned to look at her. "The expensive one?"

"We'll figure it out."

"How?"

She didn't have an answer for that.

When they got back to the apartment, Ollie was exhausted from the appointment. Elena helped him to his room, made sure he had water and his medications, then found Alex in the living room, staring out the window with his hands in his pockets.

"Don't," she said before he could speak.

"Don't what?"

"Don't offer to pay for it. Don't try to fix this. Don't-" Her voice broke, and suddenly she was crying, three years of fear and exhaustion and desperation pouring out all at once.

Alex crossed to her in two strides, pulling her into his arms. She collapsed against him, sobbing into his chest while he held her and murmured soft words she couldn't quite hear.

"I can't lose him," she choked out. "He's all I have left. I can't-"

"You won't lose him. We'll figure this out."

"There's no 'we' in this, Alex. This is my problem, my brother, my-"

"Your life, which I'm trying to be part of." He pulled back enough to look at her, his hands framing her face. "Elena, I know you're independent. I know you don't want charity. But please, let me help. Not because I pity you, but because I care about you. Both of you."

"I can't accept fifty thousand dollars from you. That's not-we barely know each other."

"Then we'll call it a loan. You can pay me back over time."

"Alex, I make maybe thirty thousand a year. It would take me forever-"

"So it takes forever. I don't care about the money." His gray eyes were intense, almost desperate. "I care about you. About Ollie. About not watching you destroy yourself trying to do this alone."

She wanted to say yes. God, she wanted to say yes. But accepting that much money from him would change everything. Would make her indebted, obligated, his in a way she wasn't ready for.

"I need to think about it," she said finally.

"Okay." He kissed her forehead, her tear-stained cheeks, her trembling lips. "Think about it. But Elena, please don't let pride kill your brother."

The words were harsh but true. She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

Alex stayed for another hour, just holding her, letting her cry out three years of fear and frustration. When he finally had to leave for a meeting he couldn't miss, she walked him to the door.

"Call me tonight?" he asked.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He kissed her one more time, soft and lingering, then left. Elena watched through the window as his car pulled away, taking with it the safety and warmth she'd felt in his presence.

She walked to Ollie's room. Her brother was awake, propped up on pillows, sketchpad on his lap.

"You can take the money," he said without looking up from his drawing.

"Ollie-"

"I heard everything. These walls are thin." He finally looked at her, and his expression was older than sixteen had any right to be. "You can take the money from Alex. I won't judge you for it."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not? He wants to help. We need help. That seems pretty simple to me."

"Because accepting that much money from him changes our relationship. Makes it about obligation instead of-" She stopped, unsure how to finish.

"Instead of love?" Ollie supplied. "Ellie, if he's offering because he cares about you, it's not obligation. It's just what people do when they love someone."

"He doesn't love me. We've known each other less than a week."

"Dad proposed to Mom after three weeks, remember?"

"That's different."

"How?"

She didn't have an answer for that either.

Ollie set down his sketchpad. "I'm going to say something, and you're not going to like it, but I need you to hear it anyway."

"Okay..."

"I'm probably going to die, Ellie."

"Don't say that-"

"Let me finish." His voice was firm, surprisingly strong. "I'm probably going to die. Maybe not this year, maybe not next year, but eventually. And when I do, you're going to be alone. Unless you let people in. Unless you let yourself have a life beyond taking care of me."

"You're not going to die-"

"But if I do, I need to know you'll be okay. That you'll have someone. And this guy, Alex? He seems like someone worth having." Ollie's eyes were wet, but his voice didn't waver. "So take his help. Not for me, but for you. Because you deserve to have someone fighting alongside you instead of always fighting alone."

Elena's vision blurred with tears. "When did you get so wise?"

"I have a lot of time to think, lying around being sick." He tried to smile. "Take the money, Ellie. Let him help. And if it makes you feel better, you can pay him back someday when you're a famous artist selling paintings for millions."

She laughed despite herself, wet and broken. "That's a nice fantasy."

"It's not a fantasy. You're talented. You just forgot it for a while."

She hugged him, careful not to squeeze too hard, breathing in the scent of her baby brother who'd somehow become the wisest person she knew.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too. Now go call your boyfriend and tell him yes before he has a heart attack worrying about you."

---

Alex was in the middle of a board meeting when his phone buzzed with Elena's text. He ignored it-this meeting was important, millions of dollars riding on the decisions being made.

But then it buzzed again. And again.

"Excuse me," he said, standing abruptly. "I need to take this."

He stepped out into the hallway, ignoring the surprised looks from the board members. Marcus would smooth it over. Marcus always did.

He opened his messages.

*Okay.*

*I'll take the loan. For Ollie.*

*Thank you. I don't know how to repay you, but I'll find a way.*

Relief flooded through him so intense it was almost painful. He called her immediately.

"Hey," Elena answered, her voice rough like she'd been crying.

"Hey. You're sure about this?"

"No. But Ollie needs the treatment, and I need to stop being too proud to accept help." A pause. "As long as this is really a loan. I will pay you back, Alex. Every penny."

"I know you will. We'll draw up terms, make it official, whatever makes you comfortable."

"Thank you." Her voice broke. "I don't know what I did to deserve you walking into my life, but thank you."

"You didn't have to do anything. You're you, and that's more than enough." He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. "I'll set up the transfer today. Dr. Kim should have the funds by Monday."

"Alex-"

"It's done, Elena. Let me do this. Please."

"Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

They talked for a few more minutes, making plans to see each other that night. When Alex finally hung up and returned to the board room, he found Marcus standing outside, arms crossed.

"That must have been some phone call," his friend said.

"I'm lending money to Elena. For her brother's treatment."

Marcus's eyebrows shot up. "How much money?"

"Does it matter?"

"It might. To your mother. To Victoria. To everyone who has an opinion about how you spend the family fortune."

"It's my money, not theirs."

"Technically, it's the family trust's money until you're thirty-five. Which means your mother has a say." Marcus's expression was sympathetic. "I'm not trying to be difficult. I just want you to think about the ramifications."

"I have thought about them. And I don't care. Ollie needs treatment. Elena needs help. I have the means to provide both. End of story."

"It's never the end of the story with your family."

"Then maybe it's time to write a new story."

Marcus studied him for a long moment. "You're really serious about her."

"I am."

"Serious enough to fight your mother? To potentially walk away from Victoria, from the merger, from everything that's been planned?"

Alex thought about Elena's smile, about the way she looked at him like he was worth something beyond his last name. About Ollie's too-old eyes and dry humor. About feeling like himself for the first time in five years.

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I think I might be."

"Then you better figure it out soon. Because the engagement party is in two and a half weeks, and your mother isn't going to let you back out quietly."

"I know."

"Do you? Because from where I'm standing, you're about to blow up your entire life for a woman you've known less than a week."

"Maybe my life needs blowing up."

Marcus sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. "You're an idiot."

"Probably."

"But you're a happy idiot. And I haven't seen you happy in a long time."

"No," Alex agreed. "I haven't been happy in a long time."

They returned to the board meeting. Alex sat through another hour of financial projections and strategic planning, his mind only half-present. The other half was with Elena, thinking about how to tell her the truth about Victoria.

About the engagement party in two and a half weeks.

About the wedding in six months.

About the fact that while he was falling in love with her, he was technically engaged to someone else.

He'd tell her tonight, he decided. After dinner. They'd talk, and he'd explain everything, and somehow they'd figure out how to make this work.

He had to believe that. Because the alternative-losing Elena before he'd really had her-was unthinkable.

But as the meeting droned on, a small voice in the back of his head whispered that maybe some things couldn't be fixed. That maybe he'd waited too long, gotten in too deep, let himself want something he was never meant to have.

He ignored that voice.

He had to.

Because if he listened to it, if he accepted that this was doomed from the start, he'd have to walk away.

And Alexander Hartley had just discovered he was far too selfish to do the right thing.