I'm Not Leaving

I'm Not Leaving, Part 2

Sonny was so quiet. Alexis was still having trouble processing this herself, and she had more than a month to sit with it. When he finished cleaning the bathroom, Sonny came and stood in front of her. She leaned her head onto his stomach from where she sat, and he ran his finger through her hair.

"Is it okay if I help you get changed? Then, maybe we can get you settled into bed. You can try and get some sleep." She felt him rubbing circles on her back. She didn't want to move. "We need to change the bandages on," his voice drifted off, "I mean if you feel comfortable with me helping. I think you may have aggravated something when you were sick earlier."

"Sonny, are we going to talk about this?" She said propping her chin against him and looking up to his face.

"You mean about where you keep your pajamas?"

She pointed toward her dresser.

"Top row. Last drawer on the right." He turned to pick out some clothes for her, but she grabbed his hand, and he stopped.

"I mean the breast cancer diagnosis." She felt his hand shaking in hers. "Or the fact that you haven't seen me without my clothes on since we conceived Kristina, and I've had two children since then. Your pick." He knew the humor was the way she deflected from pain, and she was trying to keep the heaviness of her illness from him. It just wasn't possible. "Either way, I just want you to know. I like all the things in this room."

"I'm done breaking stuff," he mumbled with his back to her. Sonny pulled open the drawer and looked through some of her clothes. He happened to know that she kept a pair of comfortable jogging pants and a well-worn Harvard T-Shirt under all the silky nighties, but she would need something that buttoned down. His heart leaped when he came upon something he recognized – black satin. She still has these? He pulled out the pajama set she'd worn the night he'd slept on the couch to protect her from the "family boogeyman." Harborview Towers seemed forever away. He walked over to her. Her face looked strange, "Yes. I want to know everything. I promise. Let's just get you into bed first. Okay?" He reached over to unbutton her bloodied shirt, she began shaking her head, and brought her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Oh, God. Sonny, help." He ran and grabbed the trash bin and hurried back to her. She was dry heaving and coughing. She couldn't have had much left on her stomach. Then, it was back the sound of her retching followed by her crying out in pain on repeat,

"Alexis, I know it hurts. I'm so, so sorry." She squeezed a fistful of his shirt as she continued to convulse.

"Please, make it stop," she said as if it were almost a prayer. He accepted the words as a personal request. He handed her the bin.

"Where's the nausea meds?"

"There's – there's a shoe box under the edge of the bed. I – I didn't want the girls to find the bottles in the medicine cabinet." He nodded, pulling out the box, and pushing off the lid. There were so many prescriptions. He began looking through them. Antibiotics. Pain Medication. So many other things with long names he couldn't pronouce.

"It's one to two of the Zofran and one Pepcid to help with the constant burning in my chest." He fished out the pills, put them in her trembling hand, and held the water as she took a sip.

"I'm going to take your clothes off now," he said, with a small wink.

"Ok," she agreed, watching him with a protective gaze. She kissed his forehead, knowing he wasn't even slightly prepared for what he would see. Alexis closed her eyes as he pulled off the dress pants she'd been wearing and only opened them again when she felt the slippery satin against her skin. "These old things," she teased. "I forgot I had them."