✧ Twenty-Two ✧

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Damon

     I really needed to talk to Jamie. But he was at work until 7 am, so I couldn't until he came home. But by the time he came home, he was gonna be exhausted. And I knew if I told him right after he got home, he wouldn't wanna go to sleep. And he really, really, really needed to get some sleep.
     As promised, I'd called the doctor and we we discussed treatment options. And, after weighing out the options, I chose surgery.
     Which was set for January 15th, which was only two days away. A day and a half by the time I got to tell him. I hated the shift he was on, but it was good for him while he was in school.
    
     I heard him when he'd let himself inside, and I'd felt when he climbed into bed. I rolled over and threw my arms around him.
     The next time I woke up, he was still sleeping soundly next to me, so I figured I'd get up and make breakfast, even if it was going on 3:30 in the afternoon. I'd made waffles, bacon, and I was almost finished making the eggs when Jamie sat at the table. He was only wearing his pajama pants and his hair was all over the place.
     "How are you feeling?" I looked over my shoulder at him.
     "I have a headache. I think I'm getting sick." He sighed, rubbing his eyes. I grabbed him a couple of ibuprofen from the cabinet and handed him a water from the fridge. "Thanks." He said as he took them.
     Oh no.
     I finished making the eggs and then fixed him a plate, setting it front of him while I got mine.
     I leaned over and kissed him. If he was getting sick, that meant I was gonna get sick. I was already exposed to it. "I missed you, last night."
     "I missed you, too." He gave me a small smile, drenching his food in syrup. "I never got to ask, how did your appointment go?"
     "Well, I still only have just the one tumor, and we've decided on surgery to get rid of it, and it was set for a couple days."
     He ran his hands through his hair, obviously stressed. "And you can't have surgery if I'm sick."
     "It's fine, Jamie." I reached over and grabbed his hand. "It's not gonna hurt it to put it off another week."
     "But it is. You already have a weakened immune system from the cancer as it is, getting sick is gonna make it worse."
     "Well there's nothing we can really do about it now." I sighed. "I'll reschedule it for when we're both feeling better, okay?" He was being stubborn, not saying anything. "I might have to do a round of chemo, but they aren't completely sure yet."
     "Coming for a medical perspective, you most likely will." He slinked his hand out over the table, waiting for mine.
     I linked my fingers with his. "I had a feeling."
     "Better to be safe than sorry." He gave me a half shrug.
     "Please don't do that."
     "Don't do what?"
     "Whenever you hear something you don't want to, you just shut it out. And right now, you're shutting me out."
     "It's not like I'm intentionally doing it. I'm stressed out, and everything is just annoying me. It's like we're going five steps forward, ten steps back."
     "I'm sorry," I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb. "I know it's hard. But just think. The cancer's gonna be gone soon, and then we'll have a sweet little baby to take care of and love on."
     "Nothing else better go wrong," He let out a hard sigh. "I'm literally one slight, minor inconvenience away from shaving my head."
     I laughed. "How about you live that stress out through me and shave my head for Chemo if it comes to it. Your hairs too nice to shave."
     He rolled his eyes as me but a small smile played on his lips. "Deal."

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