“How you doing, man?” Dallas asked.
Dean shrugged. “OK.”
“Hey, now,” Dallas said. “This is me you’re talking to… no macho denial bullshit from you. So, how you doing? For real?”
Dean looked over at his friend. “I’m – I’m not doing so well.”
Dallas nodded.
Dean exhaled. “She’s just so… so sick. I know how stupid that sounds, but it’s all I got. She’s weak and exhausted and she tries so hard to hide it from me, like she ever could.”
“She’s still losing weight?”
“Yeah. I can barely get her to choke down some soup once a day. Not that it stays down a lot of the time. She’s so nauseous even without the chemo, some days she can’t even hold onto water.”
Dallas winced.
“I don’t know, man.” Dean leaned back on the counter and stared at the floor in despair. “I guess I just wasn’t ready to
