You Give Me Fever || Michael Jackson

Chapter 66: Tough Decision

From now, if the subject of cancer is difficult for you to handle, or sensitive to you, you can choose not to read the story. This is my warning to you. Read at your own risk. ❤️

Am I dreaming? No ... no I'm not. This has to be a terrible nightmare. There's no way something as awful as this could be a real life situation.

... No, I can't have cancer. No, I can't have such a tough decision. How can I choose between my own life and my baby's? This is torture. Absolute torture.

I'm still frozen in the doctor's chair, unable to really process anything, or let any of it sink in. Nothing is getting through to me ... and I don't want it to.

"Sweetheart ... " I hear Michael's soft voice call me, "It's okay. You don't have to make the decision right now ... " He turns to face the doctor, "Right?"

The doctor nods, licking his bottom lip to dampen it, "That's true, Mr Jackson. Miss Summers doesn't have to make the decision now ... but within the next couple of weeks. We will work around whichever decision she makes. Mr Jackson, sir, you can also help her in her decision."

Michael inhales deeply, closing his eyes. A tear falls from each eye, but he covers his face to try and stop me from seeing him crying. This must be hard for him, too, as I only announced the pregnancy a few weeks back.

He dries his tears, before averting his eyes to me, "S-Sweetheart, do you wanna go outside and talk about this?" he asks weakly.

Unable to think straight, I don't answer. I just sit in the chair looking at him, my lips slightly parted to breathe easier, an anxious look on my face.

"Becky ... " he frowns. Then, he turns to the doctor, "Can we go home and think about it? I think she's a little overwhelmed right now ... "

The doctor smiles, "Of course; it's only natural that she's feeling this way. She just needs to know that she isn't alone, and we will be here to help her as much as possible. Come see me again when you've decided on the baby issue. Okay?"

He gets up from his chair, and Michael does too. I can't even get up from my seat; I feel so fragile and broken. I feel so awful, a single touch could possibly make me crumble into nothingness.

Noticing this, Michael takes my hand and helps me up from my chair. He kisses my forehead lovingly, giving me the most soft, small smile I've ever seen from him, before looking back at the doctor, "Thanks doctor. We'll come back soon."

Michael and I walk through the doctors' room door, leaving the hospital. Once we're outside the building, Michael stops us in his tracks, and stands opposite me.

"Listen, sweetheart, I can see you're dying inside, so ... now you can let it out. Just go for it ... I'll be here."

Hearing those words, I do just as he instructs – I let out all my pain and anger through excessive, hysterical cries, and I fall straight into his arms, mentally defeated. He embraces me tighter than he ever has done before, strokes my hair, and rubs my back to comfort me.

"Shh ... shh ... I'll be here for you sweetheart ... I'll be here ... shh ... shh ... " he comforts me in a whisper.

I continue to sob loudly against his chest, my cries muffled against his shirt. I simply cannot believe what pain I'm going through. Why must all bad things have to happen to me?

Right now, I don't even care if people are walking by, looking at me. I don't care about dignity. I don't care about pride. All I care about is me, Michael, the kids and the baby I'm carrying. What am I going to do about the baby?

"Becky ... " Michael mutters against my forehead; his lips are pressed against my skin, making his voice a little quieter than normal. However, before continuing, he pulls away, "We need to get you home; you've had a long, long day. We need to get Jason and Ollie from Jasper and Charlie's, and just get a good nights' sleep. We'll tell your parents about this tomorrow ... "