Page 38 of Fractured Constellations
For the rest of the morning, Thorn keeps up a stream of ludicrous stories that I know are just to distract me from the nausea building in my throat, the anticipation of the chemo looming over me like a dark cloud.
Someone delivers four lunches: grilled chicken, buttery new potatoes, and perfectly cooked veg. With Thorn’s encouragement and Blade’s death glare, I manage to eat about half before Patty returns.
“Good, you ate something, which I know isn’t easy right now but it really will help,” she says, pushing in a trolley with some pills and the bag of my first treatment on top of it.
I grip Thorn’s hand when she approaches, taking the bag of what I know is Carboplatin and hooking it on the IV stand next to the fluids, which is almost empty, so she replaces that too. I watch, my heart in my throat, as she then attaches it to the multi-port adaptor so it can be administered alongside the fluids.
“You probably know the drill, but try to keep movement to a minimum. Obviously you can walk around and pop to the bathroom if you need to,” Patty informs me, and all I can do is nod. “Take this anti-nausea medication, it should help a little, but I’m sure you know from experience it’s not always able to take all the sickness away.”
I take the pills, Thorn handing me some water to swallow them down.
“If you start to get a headache or any discomfort, give me a shout and I can get you something for that too, okay?”
“Okay, thanks,” I reply, lying back against the pillows again, already exhausted by what’s happened this morning.
“I’ll be back in an hour or so for the next bit, so try and rest as much as you can.” She gives my free hand a squeeze, which again I find reassuring, then leaves the room, taking her trolley with her.
“Okay, Goldilocks?” Blade asks from his chair, and I turn my head to give him a smile, which I know doesn’t reach my eyes.
“Yes, I’m fine, Blade,” I tell him, my smile transforming into a pained hiss as the treatment hits.
The chemo burns its way through my veins, liquid fire that promises to destroy everything—cancer cells and healthy ones alike. It’s what makes it so effective, but also so deadly, and why the guys have been researching like crazy to find everything that will help support my immune system while I undergo treatment.
Blade watches the IV drip with narrowed eyes, no doubt calculating the dosages silently. I can practically see his brain working them out, his brows furrowed deeply as he stares almost without blinking. Chase is working on his laptop, pretending not to monitor every wince I try to hide.
Thorn resumes his stories, and at some point, I fall asleep to the sound of his voice, the warmth of him at my side never leaving as I give in and let the darkness claim me.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“TAKE ALL MY LOVE” BY REED WONDER
THORN
Iwatch Luna as she fitfully sleeps after a cruel day of treatment. I wasn’t lying earlier, not only was it intense, it was fucking brutal, and she was so brave, our Little Moonbeam trying to keep a smile on her face even when every pump of the drugs into her veins made her flinch.
She’s now just hooked up to her overnight fluids, thank fuck, and I watch her, the gleam of moonlight playing over her beautiful body, which shivers underneath the covers. Earlier, while she was resting, we came up with a rotation system, so Blade and Chase are currently sleeping, Blade still in the armchair, his large arms crossed on his chest, a scowl on his face even as he sleeps. Chase is on the pull-out bed after a day of working on his laptop, all of which was on Luna’s care and her future treatments. His focused attention is all on her, and I bet she’s not even aware of how much time he’s spent on organizingeverything. It’s his love language, and he doesn’t shout about it, but it’s how he shows he cares.
Luna’s breathing changes, a slight hitch and gag, and my heartbeat thuds inside my chest as I realize she’s going to be sick. I’m up and out of bed, by her side in moments, gently shaking her awake.
“Moonbeam, let’s get you to the bathroom,” I say softly, her eyes fluttering open as her stomach heaves slightly.
The look she gives me breaks my heart, especially as her cheeks flush when I help her out of bed and quickly walk her to the en-suite. She immediately falls to her knees, throwing up in the toilet as I hold her hair, rubbing circles on her back.
“Oh god,” she rasps, spitting into the toilet before flushing it and sitting back on the tiles.
“Here,” Blade says from the doorway, holding out a glass of water, which she takes with red cheeks.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, slowly sipping the water, not meeting either of our eyes.
“Hey, Moonbeam,” I coax, sitting my ass down next to her. She lifts her eyes to me, the skin around them puffy and the whites of them bloodshot. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, pretty stepsis. It’s just vomit.”
Her lips part to clearly say some nonsense, so I dart forward and place a kiss on them before retreating with a grin.
“Thorn!” she scolds, but I just laugh.
“I don’t give a fuck if you just vomited. I’d still stick my tongue down your throat and kiss the hell out of you if I wasn’t worried you might throw up again,” I tell her, my voice matter-of-fact and deadly serious.
She huffs a sigh, then moves to stand up, but I jump to my feet first and help, making sure her IV drip is out of the way. Her lips move and curl, clearly still tasting the vomit in her mouth, so I grab her toothbrush and put some toothpaste on it for her.
