2022 WATTYS SHORTLISTED || After being forced into a marriage by her devoutly religious parents, Aspen's husband is diagnosed with a life-limiting illness, and she must find her purpose as well as fight feelings for her husband's nurse. || Aspen Wat...
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The first thing I noticed about Joel was how confident he can be. Some people would call him arrogant, but when you know Joel, it's just a front he puts on. He's always been confident in himself: he knows he's good looking, he knows he can charm, and most of all, he knows how to treat people. That's why, since he's been diagnosed, the mood swings and change in attitude have been the one thing I find hard to deal with.
Joel is usually the strong and outspoken one out of us; he'll be the one to do the talking while I'll stay quiet in the background and agree or disagree with whatever is going on. But this time, it doesn't work like that. The stronger, outspoken half of our partnership is weakened, and out of action. I have to make the decisions, keep the cog turning, and make sure everything is going fine while he gets stronger. I don't like it; it doesn't suit me, but it's what I have to do.
'The Lord is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise him, my father's God, and I will exalt him.' I can hear my mum saying it in my head, and though I know she sort of has a point, I don't know if God can help me this time. He hasn't before, why would he now?
"You know what would be great?" Joel pipes up from the hospital bed. I can tell he's in a bit of pain in his legs, otherwise, he'd be in the chair and staring out the window at the busy Southampton streets below.
"What?" I ask.
When our eyes meet, I watch his mouth quirk up into a cheeky smile, and I melt. I can't deny how attractive my husband is, and though we might not act like it, my heart skips a few beats when this happens. Moments like these are what I live for: when it all feels real.
"A fucking—"
"Joel," I warn.
"A Christmas dinner. With all the trimmings. You know, pigs in blankets, stuffing balls, crispy roast potatoes—man, Aspen, your roast potatoes are amazing," he says wistfully.
I chuckle. "A Christmas dinner? It's January, you had one less than a month ago!"
"I'm a sick man, Aspen. I could have a side of pumpkin spice latte, too," he adds, and we both laugh together. "Do you reckon if we phoned up Starbucks, they might make me one?"
I snort. "No, but I can pop to the coffee shop down the road that does it all year round if you want. It doesn't taste the same, though. I swear it's a bit weaker, but I can get you one anyway?"
He shakes his head with a grin. "No, it's fine. You can bring me one in the morning on your way in."
I wave my hand as if I were a fairy and bow to him. "Your wish is my command!"
