Page 60 of Loving Lizzy

“I’m helping. You said you had a tough day. I don’t want to add to your burden.” She continued wiping everything down.

His hand came over hers as he stopped her. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go rest? It won’t take me long.”

She stubbornly gripped the cloth in her hand, refusing to let go. “I rest all the time. If it doesn’t take much time, two sets of hands can make the work lighter.”

Michael seemed to inhale a deep breath attempting to bite back the words he really wanted to say. His jaw ticked, showing his agitation. She slowly let go and silently walked from the kitchen. She sat on the couch going back over the last week. He started distancing himself from her the night she got sick. To be fair, she kept him from getting too close, unsure of how the battle with cancer would play out. Did he finally realize why she kept him at bay? Did things finally seem real and remind him of the loss of his mom?

Lizzy wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her knees to her chest. Sadness filled her as she thought of all the time she’d wasted. The night she fell ill, Michael supported her and made her feel safe, loved, and cared for. Now she felt alone.

Michael returned from the kitchen and sat in the chair across from her. He opened his e-reader and began to read. Lizzy knew he pretended as she watched him glare at the same page for ten minutes. Sighing, she stood, not bothering to say goodnight and headed to her room.

She threw her dirty clothes in the hamper and dragged on her pajamas. She took her meds and curled up in bed. His pillow sat on his side of the bed as if mocking her with Michael’s absence. She picked it up and held it to her chest as she lay against her own. The silence in the house seemed deafening as she stared at the ceiling. Finally, she heard Michael make his way into the guest room. The shower turned on and she listened to the water running through the pipes. A bit later it stopped, and she overheard Michael talking on the phone as he opened drawers and she guessed he pulled out his notorious pajama bottoms to ready himself for bed.

His door opened and the sound of his footsteps creaking on the old wooden floors stopped at her door. Lizzy held her breath and waited for him to knock. Her heart skipped a beat, as it felt like minutes he stood on the other side when it was only a short time.

The sounds of his footsteps retreated, and the click of his bedroom door felt like a bullet to her heart.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

The pain in her chest increased, waking Lizzy from sleep. Dr. Safder mentioned sometimes women experienced nerve and phantom pain. She didn’t care which one woke her up, she only knew she hurt like hell.

She pulled the covers off and padded to the bathroom to get her other medication and fill her cup with water. She flipped on the light, blinking at the sudden intrusion of brightness in her eyes. She made her way over to the medication cabinet as she clutched an arm over her chest in discomfort. Reaching for the bottle of pills, she clamped her jaw shut from making any noise as the painful sensation ripped through her body. It hurt in places she didn’t know existed and she wanted to climb back into bed. She stifled a yawn as she struggled with the childproof lids on the bottle for a moment before prying it loose. Taking two tablets, she closed the bottle and placed it back on the shelf.

She ran water from the tap and reached for her cup to fill it when she noticed her hair sticking out in the oddest way. She resembled a wet duck on top. Her hand immediately went to the strands to smooth them down as she swallowed the pills, held the cup to her mouth, and swallowed the cool liquid. She felt something on her fingertips and sat the cup on the counter as she leaned forward and inspected her head. Her hand pulled away and she glanced down to find a chunk of hair between her fingers. Reaching for her brush, Lizzy frantically attempted to cover the bare spot on the side of her head. The instrument revealed even more lose strands. A little cry escaped her. She emptied the locks into the garbage and closed her eyes hoping she was only dreaming. Cancer already stole her breasts, now her hair. Tears pooled in her eyes as she inspected the damage. She always kept it short as a defense mechanism from childhood. She learned early on kids struggled to pull her hair if she kept it cut short. Her hand came back with chunks from various places. She pulled out the garbage can as more and more fell around her shoulders, the sink, and onto the floor. A sob escaped her, and she slid to the floor. She held a clump in her hand close to her chest. Not sure if the pain she felt now came from her heart or the nerve pain from earlier. Tears flowed down her cheek as she banged her head against the cabinet door. Damn it, life kept punching her down every time she stood up. She might stay down this time.

A knock on her bedroom door caught her attention.

“Lizzy, is everything all right? I thought I heard a noise.” Michael’s voice drifted through the wall.

Alarmed, she hastily scooted to the bathroom door and turned the lock. A minute later he tried the knob to the bathroom door, finding it bolted. She muffled her cries with a towel. She didn’t want him to see her like this. She tried breathing in and out until she thought her voice sounded almost normal.

“I’m fine, Michael. Can you call Kassie for me, please?” she called out and placed the towel over her mouth again to keep from outright crying.

Michael stayed silent for a moment, and she hoped he’d search for her phone alongside the bed.

Kassie will help her figure out what to do. She kept her hands from straying to her head thinking if she didn’t touch it, maybe they stood a chance of salvaging some of it. Deep down she knew it was a lost cause, a side effect of her chemotherapy and the hope of saving it, useless.

“Lizzy, open the door,” Michael softly commanded.

“Please, Michael, please call her.” This time she didn’t try to keep the sob from her voice.

“Lizzy Bee, listen to me. I want you to open the door for me,” Michael’s voice sounded calm and low. Maybe it seemed it did because her blood pounded in her ears.

“I can’t. Please ask her to come,” she begged.

Silence remained on the opposite side of the door as she cried into the towel.

“I know you’re scared, Lizzy Bee. I saw your pillow. It happens with most chemo patients, sweetheart. I’ve seen it with the kids I’ve treated. Can you come to the door and let me help you?” Michael assured her.

“I don’t want you to see this. Please, Michael, I’m begging you please call Kassie.” She no longer held back the panic or fear she felt inside. She couldn’t breathe. Her body felt weary, yet she endured the pain, nausea, chills, and loss of appetite. She laid down on the cool tile of the floor and closed her eyes and her will to fight left her body. She no longer wanted to stay in a world where she didn’t belong. Memories of Conner’s first days at home flooded her mind and she smiled to herself as she thought about getting to see her son again.

* * *

Michael banged on the door.“Lizzy? Lizzy answer me!” he demanded.

He glanced over to her pillow where tufts of hair covered the pillowcase. He swallowed and closed his eyes, praying he carried enough strength for both of them. He heard the devastation in her voice. The heartbreak sounded through the door.

“Lizzy, open this door.” Michael pleaded desperately. When she refused to respond, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up as if alerting him to her giving up.

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