Chapter 107

“God” she groaned and flushed the toilet. Again. She hated this; hated it more than she hated her ex-husband and she despised him. If she never threw up again it would be far too soon. With another groan she leaned forward and heaved into the bowl. She didn’t want to do this anymore. She only had two more weeks to go, but enough was enough already. Leaning back she found his warm hard body and collapsed against him.

“This sucks.”

He stroked her arm. “I know.” Just watching her go through this every week damn near killed him.

He knew? What the hell did he know? He wasn’t the one getting pumped full of poison twice a week and then spending the better part of the evening slumped over the toilet like a drunk who couldn’t hold his drink.

“Wanna trade places? Next time you can get jabbed with a needle, sit around for hours having poison dripped into you and then spend your evening trying to turn yourself inside out.” She had barely got the words out when she leaned over again.

He shook his head. It wouldn’t be his first choice of how he’d like to spend his day, but if he could take her place he certainly would. He hated not being able to do anything but watch her go through this. Holding her now and sitting with her while she took the treatment was all he could do but it never seemed like enough. “You know I would if I could.”

Leaning back again she rubbed her arm. It was throbbing like a bitch. Nurse Mary hadn’t been there today and Nurse Ratchet had been less than skilled at administering her IV. Thank goodness Abby had the port. At least she didn’t have to endure the poke and jab when the nurse couldn’t get a vein on the first try.

Flushing one last time Cilla dragged herself to her feet, stumbled to the vanity and reached for her toothbrush. Glancing at herself in the mirror as she brushed, she hung her head and nearly cried. It had been a bad day all around and having to have chemo was the rotten cherry on top. She would have given her left arm, bruise, pinprick and all, to be back on St. Bart’s instead of here. Anywhere would have been better than here right now.

Everyone and their brother it seemed had been in the shop that morning. The heart-shaped cookies and pink and white decorated cupcakes and brownies had flown out the door as fast as she could fill the cases. Valentine’s Day was nearly as busy for her as the holidays. Today it seemed everyone wanted to surprise their loved ones with sweets and treats. And she had a cake to finish for a wedding on Saturday. Heart-shaped red velvet no less.

She spit into the sink and caught Jon standing in the doorway watching her. God, couldn’t he leave her alone for two minutes to brush her damn teeth? “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day” she mumbled as she shoved the toothbrush back into her mouth. She closed her eyes. Jesus, she was a miserable bitch today.

“What was that?”

Wiping her mouth she tried to push by him to get to the bedroom but he held fast. “What did you say?” He hadn’t quite understood what she said around her toothbrush.

She looked up at him, angry tears threatening in the storm clouds of her eyes. “I said, Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.” She shoved her way past him and sat on the bed.

He watched her walk away, shoulders slumped, head at an angry tilt. “What is wrong with you today?”

She looked up at him, tears tracking down her cheeks. “What’s wrong with me? Have you looked at me lately?!”

He moved to sit next to her but she held up a hand, stopping him. She wasn’t in the mood to be coddled. “Look at me. This damn fucking disease-” she stopped, taking a breath to try to calm herself down. “This is killing me. I can’t do this anymore. I’m a mess Jon.”

“No, you’re not.” Where was this coming from?

She nodded, “yes I am. Look at me! I’ve got a bruise the size of New Jersey on the inside of my arm; I have no hair, no eyebrows, not even my eyelashes survived. I’ve lost so much weight I’ve had to go shopping twice since Thanksgiving. I’m miserable all the damn time. I’m exhausted more than that and I’m sick of this routine we’ve fallen into! And,” she paused, trying to get a handle on her emotions. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter, thick with unshed tears. “I hate that you have to watch this happen to me. I’m just sick and tired of all of it.” She dropped her head to her hands, crying in earnest.

He sat down next to her, she didn’t push him away. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, pressing kisses to her head. While he knew all of this was wearing on her, he hadn’t realized she had so much anger and resentment bottled up inside her. She was never one to complain, even when she had an absolute right to. She was always the one taking care of everyone else. How much did she expect to do before it all overwhelmed her? He knew she was bound to crack at some point.

He had seen the weariness when they had been in St. Bart’s. She had slept late every morning, napped most afternoons as well. They hadn’t done much but she hadn’t wanted to anyway. She spent most of her days just sitting on a lounger on the deck of their villa, watching the ocean crash into the beach. He did manage to cajole her into walking on the beach and dinner out on New Year’s Eve, but other than that, she pretty much stayed in.

Then he had insisted she come to Washington, D.C. for the inauguration with him. He should have known she’d be too worn out, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had walked her all over D.C. for the weekend festivities and the inauguration itself, then he had kept her up til all hours at the ball he had performed at. It’s no wonder she was falling apart now. Christ, what had he been thinking?

Angry at himself for adding to her misery he stroked her back and, as much as her tears were tearing him apart, he let her have her cry. “Shhh, it’s okay Sweets.”

Sniffling against him she straightened, “no Jonny, it’s not. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped all my frustrations out on you. You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

Reaching around her, he grabbed the tissues off the night table and handed her one. “It’s okay. You needed to vent and, as I caused some of this, you have every right to take it out on me.”

She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “What are you talking about? You didn’t cause any of this.”

He nodded, “sure I did. I all but kidnapped you to Washington when clearly you should have stayed home and tried to take it easy after our trip to St. Bart’s.” He wasn’t going to apologize for taking her to the warmth and sunshine. They had both needed that.

“If I really hadn’t wanted to go to DC I wouldn’t have. But you’re right. I should have stayed home.” She sighed and grabbed another tissue. “I’m just miserable tonight Jonny. I’m sorry. I just wish the doctor would tell me something.”

“Two more weeks and then you’ll know.”

She heaved out a trembling sigh. “I know. It’s going to be the longest two weeks of my life.”

He chuckled. “Come on let’s get you into this bed. You need some rest.”

Together they got her out of her clothes and under the covers. He kissed her forehead. “I’m going to make you some soup and toast.”

She nodded and laid her hand on his cheek. “Thanks.”

He kissed her fingertips. “Anything for you.”

When he came back she was asleep. He set the tray on the night table. The soup could be reheated later. He crawled onto the bed and curled up with her. The card and flowers would just have to wait until she was awake.