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The first rays of dawn barely began to stretch across the horizon when Taylor stirred awake, the familiar haze of morning blurring the edges of reality. Her hand instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed, seeking the warmth of her husband, Travis. He was already awake, sitting at the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as if weighed down by the gravity of the day ahead. He was lost in thought, staring at the floor, his hands clasped together in a silent prayer or perhaps an effort to steady himself.
When he sensed Taylor moving beside him, he turned his head, his green eyes filled with concern and a depth of love that made her heart ache. Without a word, he reached out, brushing a stray lock of her golden hair away from her face, his fingers lingering against her cheek. It was a gesture so tender, yet so heavy with unspoken emotion, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.
"Morning, Tay," he murmured, his voice low and rough from sleep, but also tinged with the worry that had been gnawing at him for days.
"Morning," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. Taylor felt a deep pit of anxiety settle in her stomach as the reality of the day began to dawn on her. Today was the day she would undergo surgery to have a GJ-tube placed in her stomach, a decision that had been both necessary and agonizing. She had spent weeks trying to come to terms with it, but now that the moment was here, the fear was overwhelming.
She couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability she wasn't used to. As someone who had always been in control of her life and her body, the idea of needing a feeding tube felt like a defeat. Yet, she knew deep down it wasn't about weakness. It was about survival. It was about her girls—Blair, Salem, Willow, and Ophelia—and ensuring she could be there for them, no matter what.
Taylor's hand moved almost subconsciously to her stomach, where the procedure would soon leave its mark. She traced the area lightly, as if trying to imagine what it would be like to have something foreign embedded within her, something that would become a part of her daily existence. The thought filled her with unease, and her breath hitched in her throat.
Travis noticed her distress immediately. He reached out and took her hand in his, threading their fingers together in a gesture of solidarity. His grip was warm and steady, an anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside her. "You okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern, yet soothing in its familiarity.
Taylor met his gaze, her blue eyes shimmering with uncertainty. "I'm... I'm trying to be," she admitted, her voice quivering slightly. "It's just... a lot to process."
Travis squeezed her hand gently, his eyes never leaving hers. "I know. And it's okay to be scared. This isn't easy, but you're doing it for a reason. You're doing it for us, for the girls. That's what matters."
She nodded, biting her lower lip as she tried to keep her emotions in check. "I just wish... I wish I didn't feel so weak," she whispered, the admission heavy on her heart.
"You're not weak, Tay," Travis replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt. "You're one of the strongest people I know. The fact that you're going through with this, even though it scares you, that's strength. Real strength. And you don't have to do it alone. I'm right here with you, every step of the way."
A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and she quickly wiped it away, not wanting to break down before the day had even begun. But Travis saw, and without a word, he pulled her into his arms, holding her close. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, a mix of aftershave and something uniquely him. His heartbeat thumped steadily against her ear, a calming rhythm in the midst of her turmoil.
"I'm so scared, Travis," she confessed, her voice muffled against his chest. "I'm scared of the surgery, of what comes after... I'm scared of not being able to be there for them."
