Page 3 of Enchanted

Nothing would.

One day, I’d believed myself to be a perfectly healthy twenty-eight-year-old. Okay, so I probably drank more than the recommended amounts, and I definitely ate way too much fast food. But I had time, right? That’s what everyone thinks in their twenties. Most of them wouldn’t need to worry, either.

But I did. One seizure and a hospital visit later, and my entire world had been turned on its head. My biggest concern had gone from where Dave and I should go on holiday next summer, to whether or not I’d still be around to do so.

I swallowed hard, flashing back to Dave’s reaction when we found out. How he’d taken my hand in his and solemnly promised to stand by me. I was lucky; I knew that. For all his faults, Dave was a loyal man. A lot of blokes fucked off when their partner was given a diagnosis as severe as the one I’d received. I’d even told Dave I’d understand if he did. But he’d insisted he’d be there for me. And he had.

For the most part.

“See you in three weeks,” Sandy chirped as she slid the card across the desk to me. I swallowed, my chest tightening just like it did every time I saw the new date and time scrawled in black ink across the white appointment card. “Don’t forget, our number is on the back. Call us if you have any questions or side effects that are concerning you.”

Concerning, because side effects were expected. Everyone knew that. I had a whole bag of medication waiting at home in an attempt to alleviate some of them. But in three days’ time, once the steroids wore off, I’d experience them nonetheless.

“I will, thank you.” I smiled at Sandy, weary down to my bones.

Her lips pinched. “Your Dave is collecting you, yes? You’re not driving home?”

“Nope, he’ll be here,” I said with a firm nod. “He’s probably waiting right now.”

She turned away, muttering under her breath as she did so. Unfortunately, there was nothing wrong with my hearing. “Couldn’t find his way to the ward again, I see. Utter waste of space.”

I tried to feel annoyed, but it was hard when she was right. If the situation was reversed, if Dave had just sat through three hours of chemo alone, I would’ve been at reception waiting to greet him. Hell, I would’ve come up as soon as I arrived, even if it’d meant only being there for ten minutes of his session. It still would’ve counted.

I waved goodbye to Lily and Sandy before heading for the door. My footsteps were heavy as the cheery chatter of the nurses faded away. I didn’t need to look up. My feet carried me towards the exit on muscle memory alone. I might’ve come home, but the most I’d seen of it had been inside these hospital walls.

Once again, I found myself questioning my decision to undergo treatment. By the time the cancer in my brain had been discovered, it’d already spread to my lungs, liver, and pancreas.

In other words, I was irrevocably fucked. A ticking time bomb had been lurking within me, waiting to be discovered. Now that it had been, was I doing the right thing by prolonging what couldn’t be changed?

I was. Deep down, I knew this was the right decision for me. It wasn’t the right decision for everyone, but it was for me. Fuck, though, it was hard. Beyond hard. I was tired. Tired of hospitals, blood tests, and appointments. Exhausted by the thought of nothing in my future but more of the same and health that would only ever get worse.

Most of all, I was tired of going through this alone. Not the whole thing. Dave was there. Of course he was.

But he wasn’t here right now.

God, I wished he was. Anyone, really. Just so I didn’t have to do this lonely walk out of the hospital and down to the car park all by myself.

I ran a hand through my curls as I made my way outside. I was one of the few who hadn’t lost their hair, but the chemo had made up for it by giving me every other side effect under the sun. A headache began to pound at my temples as I looked up and down each row of cars. There was no sight of the Vauxhall Dave had picked up on our return. Sighing, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see if he’d at least texted.

Nothing.

I hung my head low. Was this truly how I was going to spend the last of my days? Waiting desperately for someone, anyone, to have my back, completely and without question?

Maybe I was just being overdramatic. Dave had agreed to pick me up during his lunch hour, thanks to my early appointment. He’d likely just got stuck at work.

I chewed on my lip, trying to decide what to do. If Dave’s shoot was running over then he wouldn’t be able to answer his phone. It’d explain why he hadn’t messaged too.

A wave of nausea washed through me. I pressed a hand to my stomach and took slow, steady breaths until it passed. It didn’t vanish completely—it rarely did these days—but it ebbed enough for a few minutes of relief.

Minutes during which I needed to call Dave. If he didn’t answer, I’d call a taxi. Either way, I needed to be at home. Soon.

Before my body reminded me that standing for this long wasn’t something we could do as easily now.

Fuck, how I hated it. I hated the weakness in my once strong limbs. The fog that constantly clouded my brain. The endless fatigue and pain.

My body might have been ready to let go, but I wasn’t.

I didn’t think I ever would be.