Scarlett isn't sure her life could fall any further apart. On the morning her husband, Captain James Tamworth admits to cheating on her, she's diagnosed with cancer.
In the midst of caring for their two small children, battling through her health t...
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I'm not the best patient. I don't enjoy the fuss and the constant pain is frustrating me. I started my first bout of radiotherapy a couple of days ago and I'm sick to my stomach. It's such a strange feeling. One that's hard to explain.
I hang my head over the toilet lid and let my body reject everything in my stomach. There's a knock on the door, but I don't answer because even speaking makes me wretch.
"Scarlett, it's only me," James says, his shoes squeaking on the bathroom tiles.
I can't pull my head from the toilet, so I don't, lifting my hand in a greeting. It's five o'clock already? A gentle hand touches my back, but I don't react, already coughing through the vomit.
James gets me a cool cloth to wipe my face, then he tries to get me to drink some water, but I shake my head. It's a struggle to stand up, but I manage with his help and we walk slowly back to the bedroom.
I hear Elsie playing in her room and want to go say hello, but know it's not for the best when I look this poorly. James shakes the duvet and plumps my pillows, pulling the covers over me when I settle down.
"I brought you some soup, but you can heat it up later if you don't fancy it now," he says, shuffling unsurely on his feet.
I close my eyes. "I feel so ill."
He steps over. "Do you want me to take the kids?"
"I miss them," I croak.
"Do you want me to stay here? I'll sleep in the guest room, of course," he says.
I rub my eyes. "No, I'm fine. It'll pass."
"Scarlett."
I hold my hand up. "It will pass. Now can you just leave me for a moment while I pull myself together for Elsie? I don't want her to worry."
James hovers like he has more to say, but soon strides off when he sees I'm not messing around. Right, first task is to get out of my pyjamas. The wound is still healing, so I'm careful not to wear anything too tight around my chest, and while tracksuits are comfortable, they don't keep me warm enough, so I go for a baggy jumper and thermal leggings.
Next task is my face which I wash and slather on a good handful of moisturiser which my skin sucks up. My hair is a lost cause, so I grip it up out of the way and suddenly I feel slightly better.
"I want spaghetti, daddy," Elsie's voice travels from the kitchen.
James agrees. "Okay, but where's your manners, baby?"
"Pleassse," she lisps, and he praises her.
The sounds of clanging pots and pans travels next, along with Elsie's excited chatter. I enter the kitchen and she squeaks loudly before crashing into my legs.
I stumble when she tries to climb me with her hand pressing the wound. I'm breathing through the pain, lowering to her height so I can cuddle her easier.
