She made a sort of sleepy hum.
He should let her rest. But he had one more question, and he wanted to ask it while her defenses were still down.
Lowering his head, he whispered softly into her ear. “Speaking of stubborn, why were you feeding me all this time when you barely had enough time or money to feed yourself?”
Her words were barely audible. “Because someone needed to care for you.”
He swallowed. Hard.
In mere days, she’d burrowed so deep in his heart, she’d destroy it if she left him. Either voluntarily or…not.
For the millionth time since that town hall, he sent up a prayer that her biopsy would be fine. She’d be fine. They’d navigate their new marriage without the specter of cancer haunting their every breath.
“I appreciate that, honey.” Gently, he removed the elastic from her hair. There, that should be more comfortable for her. “But who cares for you?”
She didn’t answer. So he closed his own eyes, disregarded what a night on the couch would do to his poor back, and followed her into sleep.
The Marysburg GeneralHospital Breast Health Center let James accompany Elizabeth into the inner waiting room. Which was convenient, since he wasn’t sure he could have let go of her hand if a hospital employee had tried to separate them.
Together, they trudged through all the usual hoops. Registration for Elizabeth’s core needle biopsy. Reading and signing the informed consent document, which was—like all its brethren, in his experience—pretty horrifying.
That document confirmed the basics of what the radiologist would do to his wife. Guided by an ultrasound, the doctor would use a hollow needle to remove several tissue samples from the lump, and a pathologist would analyze those samples. Elizabeth should get the results within two to five business days.
Such dry language for such a fraught, terrifying process.
With each form, each explanation, Elizabeth’s fingers turned more icy. He chafed them, wishing to God he could do all this for her. Take the worry, take the needle, take the agonizing wait for answers, and leave her calm and content.
But he couldn’t. She had to go through this process, but she didn’t have to do it alone.
As far as he was concerned, she didn’t have to do anything alone. Not anymore. Not if she didn’t want to.
And he made sure she knew it. “Do you want me in the room with you during the biopsy? The form said it’s okay if I come. But if you’d prefer that I wait out here instead, that’s fine too.”
He’d honor her wishes. Even if the thought of her going through the procedure alone made him want to howl.
“I want you with me.” No hesitation, and those deep-set blue eyes were beseeching. “Please, James.”
God, she wrung his heart to pieces sometimes.
He pressed a kiss against her furrowed brow. “You don’t need to say please, honey. If you want me, of course I’ll be there.”
The next few minutes were a blur of exchanging her sweater and bra for a gown, getting her vitals taken, and walking to the ultrasound room. And then she was lying on her back on the bed, naked from the waist up, and for the first time in his life, he wasn’t even tempted to look at a beautiful woman’s bare breasts.
Instead, he maintained eye contact with a pale, trembling Elizabeth. Smiled at her as the ultrasound tech located the lump, marked it with a pen, and cleansed the area. Held her cold hand when the tech covered the surrounding bare skin with sterile drapes and then retreated to the ultrasound machine.
“I want you to look,” Elizabeth suddenly told him.
His heart seized. “I don’t know whether—”
“I’ll want to know what happened, but I can’t watch. I need you to do it for me.” Her voice wavered. “Please, James.”
“Okay.” He squeezed her hand and steeled himself. “Okay.”
The radiologist glanced up from where she was spreading some sort of clear gel over the uncovered part of Elizabeth’s breast. “I’ll also describe what I’m doing, which might help. Unless you’d prefer I didn’t.”
“Please do.” Elizabeth nodded. “I want to know.”
So they listened and he watched as the radiologist located the lump with the ultrasound, numbed the area with shots of local anesthesia—a process that looked remarkably violent for something meant to help ease pain—and waited for the medication to take effect.
