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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
JAMES
There's a list of charities written in front of me. Mental health charities that have military connections. Scarlett left them on the side for me, always thinking ahead.
I'm drawn to the military support gym right away. It's run by a guy called Joshua, who himself is a veteran and it's only about a twenty minute drive out of town. The testimonials on their website are good enough to make you want to join on their own.
Scarlett enters the kitchen in her smart work clothes. I don't like it, but she's come to the decision to go back today. "I expressed about fifteen-ounces of breastmilk, so that should be more than enough until I get back."
The coldness in her tone is more than I deserve. I let her down. There's no sugarcoating it. All the times she's there for me and I do what I did. I'm a crappy husband sometimes.
"Okay, darling. It's usually every four hours, right?" I need to get it right otherwise I'll ruin Lucas's routine too.
She simply nods as she strides across the kitchen to pull out some ingredients to make a salad. I look back at the sheet in front of me, underlining a few which catch my eye.
"Do you need a lift into work?" I ask, but she shakes her head, chopping the cucumber aggressively against the plastic board.
I type in Haven Hill Animal Sanctuary into Google search. They specialise in the rehabilitation of mental heart patients through caring for animals. How lovely. If I had to choose, it would be T&M military support gym because it works better alongside my work shifts, but the sanctuary would be a close second.
It says you can bring your kids along too and we all know a little girl who would jump at that opportunity.
"Do you want to talk about your doctor appointment?" I ask, desperate to know what happened.
The past few days are still blurry in my mind and I'm praying she didn't already tell me because if I forgot it would destroy us both. The sleeping tablets I took last night knocked me out for hours, but with sleep came memory loss.
She washes the spinach under the tap. "There's a chance I still have cancer."
That horrible sickly feeling is back in my stomach. "What do you mean?"
"To be honest, they said a lot of things. It's sometimes hard to remember. It was a different doctor and he wasn't as positive as my other breast surgeon," she whispers, putting the spinach in her Tupperware.
The chair spins as I jump of it, striding across the kitchen I press up against her back, wrapping my arms around her. It's a miracle when she doesn't push me away, turning into my arms so she can bury deep.
"Tell me everything," I say.
She holds me close. "I thought I would come out of there feeling good, but he told me I had some cancer cells in my lymph nodes... I was never told that before and it really confused me."
