What's Left of Me

“We need to keep you away from any type of infections. I’ll have orders for you to get blood transfusions throughout your stay to keep your platelets up, and IV antibiotics to help fight infection. It’s very crucial you don’t get sick during that time, because if you do, we run the risk of your body rejecting the transplant.”

“I understand. I’ll do whatever it takes.” I mean this with everything I have. I will follow all the doctor’s orders, even if that means I have to be isolated from the world for an entire month. As long as I have my Kindle, I’ll be okay. Well, maybe my phone, too.

Parker stays by my side during the entire treatment. He asks the nurse a hundred questions about what I am getting, how it is administered, and even my dosage. I like seeing this side of him. How completely invested he is in my well-being. It makes me really happy knowing he cares this much about me.

After my treatment, my parents have to go back home, so Parker offers me his place to stay. I don’t even try to protest because I know that giving Genna and Jason a small break would be nice. I’ve been with them almost nonstop since I got here.

“Are you doing okay?”

We’re sitting on his couch with my head in his lap. I’ve been writing in my journal while he watches the hockey game.

Looking up, I see him looking down into my eyes. “Yes. Nothing has changed since you asked five minutes ago.”

“I’m just checking.”

“Relax, Parker,” I say with a slight smile.

“I am relaxed. What are you writing about? Me?”

“No,” I say, holding my journal to my chest to hide it.

“What? I can’t look?”

“No.”

“Why? I’m in there, aren’t I?

“Maybe,” I say with a smile.

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows as the corner of his mouth turns up.

“Yes, oh,” I mock.

“Then I should read it.”

“It’s really not all that interesting.”

“Everything you have to say is interesting, Aundrea.”

One of my doctors told me I should keep a journal during my treatment. That it would relax me and allow me to get my feelings out. I only pull it out once a month to write one long entry. It’s better than giving daily, boring updates.

“What are some of the things you write about?”

“Not much. Honestly, I hardly ever write in it.” I start to stand so that I can put it away, but instantly I have two arms around my waist pulling me back into his lap.

“How come you always seem to find yourself in my lap?”

“How come someone can never keep his hands to himself?”

“Admit it. You like my hands on you.”

Of course, I blush. Parker reaches up, brushing my hair off my face. “Take this off.”

“No.”

“Please. You don’t have to hide behind that.”

“I’m …” What? Afraid?

“Aundrea, you’re so beautiful. These lips.” He gives my top lip a soft kiss. “This chin.” Bringing his mouth down, he kisses next to the small freckle I have. “Your big eyes. I love your eyes.” I close my eyes and feel a kiss on each lid. “And this nose. You have a tiny button nose. It’s so cute.” I smile, allowing him to kiss the tip of my nose. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, bringing a hand up to pull back my wig.

I don’t stop him. I let him pull it off. I let him explore me. It’s the first time we’ve really been alone since I told him about my cancer. I want to give myself to him. I want to allow him to get to know my body.

When my wig falls to the floor, he kisses all over my head, not letting the small droplets of sweat from the wig bother him, “You have a perfect head, Aundrea.”

I refrain from arguing with him about my head. I’ll save that for another time and place. Knowing that probably after tonight I’ll be too sick to want him to touch me, I take this opportunity to bring my lips to his. I want to feel his mouth on mine and his body close to me. I want to give him a side of me that no one else has. A piece of me that I thought no one would ever want.

His lips are gentle on mine. He takes his time with me, not pushing to go any further. The tip of my tongue comes out to meet his.

Holding my hand, he pulls me off the couch, walking me into his bedroom where he slowly undresses me, kissing my shoulders, collarbone, chest, stomach and the palms of my hands.

“I love you, Aundrea.”

“I love you, too.”

Laying me down on the bed, he helps me slide all the way to the top, so that I’m naked before his eyes, my entire body hairless.

I don’t try to cover myself, and I don’t close my eyes. I watch him take in the sight before him, waiting for him to betray some sign of disgust. It never comes. Instead, I see the fire, the yearning, the need in his eyes. Most of all, I see the appreciation he has for me. For my body. Just that look causes me to tremble.

“You’re absolutely beautiful, Aundrea. Every inch of you.”

Slowly, I help him out of his own clothes and then he’s sliding into me.

There are no words of heat.

No words of hot passion.

It’s just the two of us, allowing our bodies to explore one another. We move together slowly, staying connected, not allowing the moment to fade away.

He never lets go of my hand, and I never drop my gaze.

I have no idea what time it is, but I find myself in Parker’s bathroom, in the dark, throwing up everything I consumed yesterday. I woke up to a wave of nausea hitting me hard. I tried to be quiet as I ran into the adjoining master bath. I even turned on the faucet to try and drown out the noises my stomach and throat were making.

Parker heard everything. He was up, jumping out of bed and coming into the bathroom before I could even count to five.

“Do you need something? Water? Anything?”

“No,” I cry between stomach clenches. My eyes burn from the tears.

I feel soft circles on my back as I empty my stomach. I’m surprised that I’m not embarrassed for him to see me like this.

I’m thankful to have someone here.

I’m thankful to have him here.

When I feel like I can’t give any more, Parker helps me back into the bed. “Here. Just lie down. Let me get you a bucket and one of your pills for nausea.”

With a glass of water in hand, I chug it down, letting some slip past my mouth and onto the comforter. “Sorry,” I mumble with the glass still in my mouth.

“Don’t worry. Can I get you something else?”

“No. I think I’m okay.” I’m hot, but I shake with chills. I can feel the beads of sweat dripping down the side of my bare head and down my neck.

“Will you cuddle with me?” I ask, snuggling into the comforter in hopes of stopping my shudders.

“Of course.”

I never thought I was much of a cuddler, but all I want is to feel him next to me. To know he’s really here and not leaving.

“You’re burning up, Aundrea. Are you sure you’re okay?” I hear the concern in his voice, but shrug it off.

“Yes. I’m sure. It’s just the drugs. I’m okay, I promise. I just want to lie here with you for a minute.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I just want you to hold me, Parker. Please.”

“I am, babe. I am.” He pulls me closer to him. I listen to his shallow breathing as his warm breath hits my neck. As much as it makes me hotter, I don’t want to move.

“Aundrea?” he whispers into my ear.

“Hmm?”

“I know this probably isn’t the best time to bring this up, or ask—shit, I know it’s not. I have all these emotions running through me. Seeing you … go through chemo. It wrecked me, Aundrea. I want to help you, and I don’t want to fail you.”

“You’ll never fail me, Parker. You are helping. Just being here with me is helping.”

“Having you here, in my bed and in my arms, thinking about these past couple months … your cancer, everything, my mind is racing, and …”

“Just say it, Parker. The more you talk, the less I think about wanting to throw up.”

“You’d make a great mom, Aundrea. I know this isn’t the time to bring this up, but I can’t help but think about you and that night at my place when I brought up the topic of kids.” I find comfort in his voice, and I allow myself to relax, untangling from the knots forming in my joints.

“What about it?”

“You never gave me an answer. When I asked if kids weren’t out of the question for you. And you’d make an excellent mom ...”

Okay, now I want to throw up. Whether or not you want kids is an important part of any relationship. It can break it or bring it closer. I don’t want it to break us.

There’s something about being in the dark with him that makes me want to address my fears.

Taking in a deep breath, I say, “I’m not sure I can have kids.”

He doesn’t say anything for a while, which makes my heart race. “I think I knew that. I mean, with the chemo. But did you do that thing where you freeze your eggs for ... if you ever wanted them?”

I can hear the fear in his voice. The wondering, the need for comfort. “Yes.” I feel him soften next to me. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to carry a baby after all the chemo I’ve had. Or that a procedure with a surrogate would take. Or that I’d ever be able to afford that.”

“But, still, they’re not out of the question for you?”

“Never, Parker. I want kids, but I’m okay if I can’t have my own. I’m not against adoption … my parents were blessed with Genna. What I’m scared of is leaving kids if my cancer comes back.”

“Oh, Aundrea.” He pulls me closer. “You’d make a great mother. And wife.”

“Maybe.”

“You still don’t want to get married?”

“It’s not something I’ve ever been interested in.”

“Why not?”

A tear trickles down my cheek. Before I can wipe it away, Parker reaches over and wipes it with his thumb. Our eyes stay connected and my heart is beating fast as I take in the serious look on his face.

“You don’t have to say anything, Aundrea. I get it. You’re scared, but just because you can’t see your future, doesn’t mean I can’t. I see it clearly because I can see mine.”

Parker doesn’t leave my side in the weeks following my final treatment. He is true to his word, acting as my arms when I am too weak, my legs when I don’t think I can move, and my voice when I can’t stand to talk because of the sores. He never looks at me like I am anything but beautiful.

He goes back to work, so Genna comes over to spend the days with me until I’m able to move around freely on my own. He calls and texts multiple times a day, checking in and making sure I’m doing okay, but I never felt like he’s crowding me. I learn to welcome the help, and even enjoy it.

When it comes time for my last lab draw and appointment with Dr. Olson, Parker can’t get out of a surgery and business dinner that he’d already scheduled. I tell him it’s okay and that he’ll be the first to know the results.