Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
While he sleeps, I take in his features. He’s lost weight. It’s most noticeable in his face. His eyes are sunken in and his cheekbones more profound. I know some people like this look, but it’s not a good look on him. I miss the fullness he used to have and know it will come back eventually, but that eventually is years away. His fight isn’t over when chemo stops. He’ll have scans and blood tests every few months. He’ll worry, as will I, that something’s wrong all the time. He might get the slightest fever, or a head cold, and he’ll automatically think the worst. At some point, he's going to ask me to stop asking if he’s okay, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that.
He has four treatments left and then we wait. We wait for three months, six months, five years. Our lives will be a waiting game until that five-year mark where the doctors will declare him cancer free. Over eighteen hundred days of waiting, while in remission. I can’t wait for the day when I can start counting.
Ben stirs and slowly opens his eyes. He looks tired. Exhausted even. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” he says groggily.
“Did you sleep okay?”
He nods and winces as he starts to roll onto his back. “What’s wrong?”
“Just pinched my port.”
His port is a necessary nuisance. It’s the easiest way to administer his chemo and any other drugs he may need, but it hurts him and seems to always be in the way, even though it’s on the inside of his arm. I know I’ve grabbed it a couple of times by accident. You tell yourself you don’t want to think about the cancer and your loved one being sick so you try to act as normal as you can, but the consequence of doing so is inadvertently touching a vital part of their treatment. Knowing it’s there makes my stomach queasy, but it’s so much worse when I know I’ve caused him some discomfort.
“I’m meeting Uncle Liam at the studio. We’re going to start planning a fundraiser for cancer patients who don’t have insurance. I know what this is costing and can’t imagine someone not having insurance or the means to pay for treatment. Liam talked about setting up a fund and making this an annual or even semi-annual event. He doesn’t want it to be a one-time thing.”
“I think that would be really good and could turn into a full-time job for someone. Events like this aren’t easy to plan, and then there’s the managing the funds aspect. How do you determine who is going to get help and who isn’t?”
“I’m leaving all that up to Liam. He has someone lined up to manage distribution. I’m in charge of entertainment.”
“Are your bands coming?”
I nod. “Yeah, they’re pretty excited. Especially Sinful Distraction. Plus, I’m going to book a lot of local talent. I expect people to travel for this as well. People want to help. Big stars want to help. It would be great to get some major headliners and turn this into a festival of sorts in the years to come.”
“Taylor Swift?” Ben waggles his eyebrows.
“You just want to meet her because you have a big crush on her.”
“Guilty.”
“I don’t get it though. She’s a blondie and I’m not.”
“It’s simple. I’m in love with you,” he says in the most enduring and sincerest way. “Can I kiss you again?”
I nod and close the distance between us. Ben turns onto this side and cups my face. His lips are chapped and dry from the chemo, no longer the soft lips of before. I don’t tell him though. He doesn’t need to worry about these small changes while he’s fighting the war going on inside his body. I slide a little closer, wanting more. I’m greedy. I can’t help it. I’ve missed Ben so much that these little shared moments between us leave me desperate and hungry for him.
My hand slides under his T-shirt and up his back. When my fingers touch his ribs, he freezes and pulls away. He’s lost weight. Too much for my liking. It’s why I force him to eat and am trying to encourage him to drink the protein shakes my grandpa does. I know they’ll help.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m just not comfortable in my own skin at the moment.”
“I understand.”
Ben keeps his hand on my cheek. “I’ll get there.”
“I’ll wait,” I tell him. “You’re worth the wait.”
“I love you, Elle,” he tells me and then kisses me again. His stomach growls and I smile against this mouth. “Well, shit.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Come on, let’s go eat.” We climb out of bed, change out of our pajamas, and head downstairs. After I stuff my face and Ben picks at his food, we take turns in the shower. I dress and am about to walk out the door when Ben tells me he is going to come downtown with me because he wants to check out the new bookstore on Main Street.