Chapter 33 JUNIPER
A soft knock on the door pulled me out of the heavy silence.
Piper and Katy stepped in, both trying to smile, but I knew them too well.
Those smiles were tight, brittle — the kind you wear when you’re pretending everything is fine while internally screaming What the hell is going on with Knox and you?
It was almost funny how bad they were at hiding it.
They were both one wrong word away from dropping the act and demanding answers like detectives in a bad cop show.
“Hey, Uncle Hayes,” Katy said softly, walking over to the bed and gently squeezing his hand.
“How are you feeling?”
Dad offered a tired but genuine smile.
“Like I got hit by a truck. But I’m still kicking. Barely.”
Piper folded her arms and arched an eyebrow, never one to miss an opportunity.
“A truck? Please. You look like you lost a fight with an angry ladder, then tried to wrestle a lawnmower for the trophy. Next time you decide to audition for ‘Stuntman: Amateur Hour,’ call us first so we can bring popcorn, a scorecard, and a medic on standby. I’ll rate the fall — dramatic flair, 9.5; poor life choices, solid 10 out of 10.”
Katy elbowed her, but the smirk tugging at her mouth betrayed her.
“What Piper means is we’re glad you’re okay. Mostly. But if you pull another heroic stunt that lands you in a hospital bed, we’re wrapping you in bubble wrap, duct-taping the seams, and charging you rent for the storage unit.”
Shit.
I still hadn’t told them this wasn’t from some random fall at the construction site.
It was something far worse
Dad let out a weak chuckle that turned into a cough.
“You two are trouble. Piper, you’ve got a mouth on you worse than my old foreman. And Katy, bubble wrap? I’m not that fragile.” He winked at them.
“But I appreciate the concern. Makes me feel like I’ve still got some fight left.”
They kept the chatter light and ridiculous on purpose, trading jokes about malfunctioning machines and which nurse had the best bedside sass so Dad could answer without thinking too hard.
It worked—his smile was tired but real—but I could feel Piper and Katy’s eyes on me the whole time, heavy with questions they were holding back for my sake, like librarians trying not to slam a book shut on the worst chapter.
Eventually, Katy glanced at me, then back at Dad.
“Uncle Hayes, mind if we steal Juni for a bit? We’ll grab some terrible hospital coffee in the cafeteria so you can rest.”
Dad nodded, giving my hand one last squeeze.
“Yeah, you girls go,” he said, voice tired but fond.
“Get some caffeine in her before she passes out in that chair like a sad little gargoyle.” He winked at them, then turned to me, eyes softening with that familiar mix of love and gentle teasing.
“And Piper, Katy — do me a favor and cheer her up, will you? She worries too much. She’s starting to look like a worried raccoon with all those dark circles.”
“Wow, Dad. Thanks for the compliment.” I let out a watery laugh that sounded suspiciously like a dying seal.
“Yeah, I’m rocking the dark‑circle look,” I said, voice syrupy with sarcasm.
“It’s called exhaustion haute couture. Very in right now. I’ll add it to my résumé under ‘special skills: can pull off sleep deprivation and still look emotionally unavailable.’”
I tried to smile, but it wobbled.
Katy laughed softly. Piper gave him a small, genuine smile.
“We’ll take care of her. Rest up, Uncle Hayes.”
As soon as we stepped into the hallway and the door clicked shut behind us, Piper’s mask dropped completely.
She grabbed my arm and steered me toward the elevators, voice low and urgent.
“Spill. Now.”
“Piper…”
“Don’t ‘Piper’ me,” she cut in.
“What the fuck is going on with you and Knox? Boyfriend? Girlfriend? A couple? Like — what the actual fuck, Juni?”
I glanced at Katy.
She had her arms crossed in front of her, nodding with that same determined look.
“What she said,” Katy added.
“Now spill.”
I sighed, exhaustion weighing on me like wet concrete.
“Can I at least get some caffeine inside me first? I feel like I’m running on fumes and pure spite right now.”
They didn’t argue — just flanked me like bodyguards as we headed to the cafeteria.
The second we sat down with three terrible cups of hospital coffee, Piper leaned across the table, eyes locked on mine.
“Talk.”
I wrapped my hands around the warm cup, staring into the dark liquid like it might give me the right words. My throat felt tight.
“It’s… complicated,” I started, my voice already cracking.
“Dad…”
I swallowed hard, forcing the words out.
“Dad has cancer,” I said quietly, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.
“Stage III pancreatic. Aggressive.”
Piper’s face went pale.
“Jesus Christ, Juni…” her voice thick with disbelief and sorrow.
“Cancer? Why didn’t you tell us sooner? We thought he just fell again or had some bad flu. You’ve been carrying this alone for days? What the hell… we’re your best friends.”
Katy’s hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide and glistening.
“I can’t believe it… pancreatic cancer?” She shook her head slowly, voice breaking.
“We’re your best friends and we had no idea. You didn’t bother telling us? You’ve been sitting here by yourself, dealing with doctors and diagnoses and God knows what else, and you didn’t say a word?”
I sighed, shoulders slumping as the exhaustion crashed over me again like a wave I couldn’t fight anymore.
“Because I was still trying to wrap my own head around it,” I whispered.
“Every time I said it out loud, it felt more real. I kept thinking if I just didn’t say it… maybe it wouldn’t be true. I didn’t want to make it real for you guys too. Not until I had to.”
Piper pulled me into a fierce hug without warning, her arms wrapping around me so tight it almost hurt.
“You idiot,” she muttered into my hair, her voice thick.
“That’s exactly when you’re supposed to tell us. We’re not here for the easy parts. We’re here for this.”
Katy joined the hug from the other side, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.
“We’ve got you,” she said softly. “No matter what.”
After a long hug, we sat back down at a small table in the quiet corner of the cafeteria.
I told them everything — the collapse, the diagnosis, the terrifying bills, and then… Knox.
"Knox… offered me a deal."
"A deal?" Katy asked confused.
“He needs a fake girlfriend."
Piper’s eyes narrowed instantly, irritation flashing across her face.
“What the fuck? Why the fuck does Knox Reyes need a fake girlfriend? And why the fuck are you playing along with this circus?”
“Because I needed the money,” I said, flat as a deflated balloon.
"The bills are already insane and we haven’t started the real treatment. I was losing my mind trying to figure out how to pay for it.
I was about to drop out of college when Knox barreled in with a ‘solution’ that involved me pretending to be his girlfriend for three months. In exchange for cash.
He’s got his dad breathing down his neck about Tracy — ‘family connections’ and ‘optics,’ which is rich‑people code for ‘please stop dating anyone who isn’t a tax write‑off.’ Tracy’s basically sticky bubblegum with a trust fund. Knox wanted her off his back, so he announced I was his girlfriend."
I let out a humorless laugh.
“Now his dad wants to meet the girlfriend — me. And Knox is paying me. A lot. Enough to cover chemo and the hospital bills.”
I shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Also, he kind of blackmailed me into it."
Katy’s mouth fell open.
“He’s blackmailing you?” Piper hissed, voice low and venomous.
“That entitled, trust-fund prick is actually blackmailing you while your dad is fighting for his life? What a fucking prince. I hope his dick falls off.”
“Not exactly blackmail,” I said weakly.
“More like… aggressive negotiation with photographic evidence.”
Piper’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
“What photo?”
I told them everything — the bathroom, the photo he took while I was crying, the threat, the money, the rules I’d tried to set.
When I finished, both of them were silent for a long, furious beat.
“Fuck, Bastard…” Piper managed, slamming her cup down so hard coffee sloshed over the rim.
“And you Juni...This isn’t one of your romance novels. This is real life. You can’t be serious... Fuck… just because fake dating works in the novels, doesn’t mean it’ll work in real life. Not to mention, Knox and you pretending that you like each other enough to want to date… I just don’t see how you’re going to pull that off.”
“Where are all the girls he fucks on a daily basis?” Katy added, voice rising with disbelief.
“Couldn’t he have gotten one of those to fake date? They would’ve done it for free… maybe even thrown in a few more romps in bed. Why you?”
“I don’t know… I don’t care. I need the money...so please dont judge me okay..”
Piper finally sighed, rubbing her temples like she was fighting a migraine.
“Fine. But we’re helping you through this. Every step. And if Knox steps one toe out of line — if he so much as looks at you wrong — I’m kneeing him in the balls so hard his future grandchildren will feel it. I don’t care if he’s the star quarterback. I’ll make sure he sings soprano for the rest of the season.”
Katy nodded fiercely, still holding my hand.
“Same. We’ve got you. Fake girlfriend or not, you’re not doing this alone.”
I managed a small, tired smile.
“Thanks. This has to look real, so don’t tell anyone. Please.”
They both nodded, solemn.
For the first time since the doctor had said the word cancer, the weight on my chest felt just a little lighter.
I wasn’t alone in this.
Even if I had just made a deal with the devil himself.
My phone buzzed on the table. I glanced down.
Knox: Let’s meet."