Page 83 of Quiet Chaos

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“When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.” John 11:4

Sky - July 2020

My test results arrive in the mail today. I consider waiting for Cade, except the anxiety has risen with each passing day. It doesn’t help we have had little intimacy. Cade handles me like a porcelain doll, tender, hesitant, and although his concern for me is appreciated, I dislike the fact the normality of our life is gone. After all of this, our lives will be different, a tepid melancholy for our former relationship exists now.

The house is quiet. Armstrong is at my feet, and my fingers shake as they dig into the envelope. I work my finger along the glued part, freeing it open. There’s a letterhead at the top, a date, and I slide my eyes down the paper. It first describes the origin of the tissue sample, my medical history, and the word I dreaded to see. Positive. My mouth goes dry, my vision pinned to the word.

I close my eyes with a drawn-out breath. Questions swirl in my head. Questions about sinning. Without stopping them, I let the oozing tears soak into my summer dress. Am I being punished for having sex before marriage? Is God angry with me? Is this the beginning of my end? Maybe God is testing me. My hand wipes away the signs of despair.No! I must not cry.I’llaccept the results with grace and say a prayer I recognize the results and outcome. My blessings have come in the form of a husband, a beautiful home, an adoring dog, and friends and family. It’s more than what many people have in life.

By the time Cade comes home, I’m wearing a smile and dishing out his food. After a good meal and a drink, I’ll tell him the results. We talk during dinner. Well, I mostly talk. Cade listens as usual. Subjects spurt from my mouth. A way to distance the foreboding subject. My dear Cade, my Gabriel, my hero, listens, smiles, and laughs at what I’m saying, even though I have no idea what I’m saying. Words spill out without thought—a dump truck of nonsense.

I love this man. The idea of watching the light dim from his eyes, creases around his mouth and eyes deepen, hurts my heart. I clear the table, hand him a drink, and he makes his way outside by the pool.

The sight of him continues to take my breath away. Cade shed his normal attire for swimming trunks. He wades into the pool, finding an area in the middle. His thick, roped muscled arms stretch as he rests them along the perimeter, drink still in hand. Even though I’ve been cold today, I’m wearing a bikini, and in response, Cade whistles.

“Come here, woman.”

I swim over to him, placing my hands on his shoulders to keep above the water. His one arm, firm against my back, keeps me near as I guide my legs to his waist. The way Cade kisses me transports me to another reality where it’s only us. No sickness. No pain. No regrets or punishments. Only us, finding glory in our bodies and hearts.

We release the kiss. My tongue laps up the wetness and feels the lingering touch of his.

I can’t help feeling emotional, so I hug him to avoid his gaze. “My results arrived.”

Cade tries to push me away to look at me, but I refuse to let go. “It’s positive for cancer.”

Now he’s actively removing my arms, cupping a hand around my jaw, as he says, “What else did it say?”

I give a slight shrug. “That and to make an appointment with the doctor to discuss options.”

His Adam’s apple bobs, eyes creasing with worry.

Cade brings our bodies flushed together as he whispers, “We’re going to get through this. You’re my strong little angel. My Princess. I’ll be there every step of the way.”

His body, the quickened beat of his heart, doesn’t seem close enough. I desire more. It’s an intense greed to be near him. To commit everything Cade, to memory for when I can’t find the energy.

I lick and kiss behind the back of his ear, and he takes a quick inhale. “Sky, don’t do that.”

With a shaky whisper, I say, “I need you.”

I continue along his neck, jawline, and lips. My mouth is possessed, commanding, tongue dipping in, nipping at his lower lip. His breathing is labored, and arousal, evident.

His large hand cups the back of my head. “We can’t do this.”

“Yes, we can. The doctor never mentioned to refrain from sex during or after my cancer.”

Cade’s confusion pierces my heart. I know he wants this as much as I do but is afraid to jeopardize our situation. My mouth finds his again and I grind my hips against him.

He removes my legs from his waist and walks to the steps with me swimming behind him. Toweling off, he stands by the edge, looking down at me.

I sit on the upper stair, paddling my legs under water. “Is me having cancer a put off to you?”

Cade tosses his towel to the side, scrubbing both hands up and down his face. “How can you even ask that?” He grabs his erection. “Can’t you tell?”

“Then make love to me.” His attention shoots toward the lake. “Show how much you want me and love me.” A slow bob of his Adam’s apple shows an internal struggle, but I’m unsure what the struggle is about. “Cade?” His eyes meet mine. “I might not be able to do anything during treatment.” He still doesn’t show any signs of wanting to have sex. “You haven’t touched me since you found the pamphlet.” I get out of the pool and walk to him. “Please. Please make me feel sexy again.”

Without hesitation, Cade scoops me up and brings me into the bedroom, where he gently lays me on the bed. Our eye contact never wavers while he removes his trunks and my bathing suit and takes me to another level of lovemaking. Halfway on top of me, his mouth seduces, tantalizing and zapping my skin. Erotic and breathtaking. My head falls back, committing to memory every taste and touch. Cade’s mouth was made to hold me prisoner. Paralyzing, to keep me his captive. That’s what I’m counting on when my body becomes frail, and only musings get me through the days.

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