Page 2 of Enchanted

The scuffs stopped beside me. “How are you feeling, dearie?”

I forced my bleary eyes open, smiling at the kind-faced nurse. Lily had been here for every one of my sessions, cheering me on even as she jabbed me with needles. “Right as rain.”

She chuckled. “Liar. Would’ve thought all those years in America would’ve eroded your British manners.”

“If anything, it made me more British.” I hid my wince as she gently eased the cannula free. “Did you know, they don’t eat with knives?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Her easy tone was at odds with her brisk movements as she applied the little bundle of cotton wool. “You’re having me on.”

“It’s true,” I insisted. “They just eat with forks.”

Her eyebrows almost hit her pitch-dark hair. “Alright, then how do they eat steak?”

“Ah, now that’s the exception.” I nodded solemnly, hating how the small movement sent waves of dizziness through me. “They do use a knife for that. They cut it all up first, then eat it with their fork.”

“What a waste of time.” Lily scoffed. “Can’t imagine all the faff.”

“It’s because there was a shortage of metal when it was colonised,” I explained as I rolled down my sleeves and stretched. I’d never been good at sitting still. Having to do so for these long sessions might kill me before the cancer did. The comfy chairs for patients were the only saving grace. That and the regular supply of tea and biscuits made it a bit more tolerable.

Not fully tolerable. Nothing could do that.

“Right, that’s you all done today, dearie.” She patted my arm, then hesitated before asking the question. “No Dave again today?”

I raised a brow as I shrugged into my coat. It was summer, but I’d been feeling the cold more and more recently. Plus, with both the hospital band and plaster out of sight, I could almost pretend nothing was wrong.

Almost.

“Is that judgement in your tone, Lily?” I asked mildly, evading the question.

She placed a fluttering hand on her chest. “Would I judge?”

I gave her a flat stare. “Need I remind you how you spent your last tea break gossiping about Liz from the late shift?”

Lily sniffed. “Well, can you blame me? That was a box of Thorntons she pinched. That was meant to be for the whole ward, not just Miss Stuffy Knickers.”

I laughed. “Never change, Lily.”

“I’d best be your favourite nurse,” she warned.

“Always.” There was no lie there. I was sure Lily said the same to every patient who passed through here, but she normalised this process as much as she could. Whether it was through gossip, remembering details about your life, or just straight up British nagging, Lily was able to make you feel like a person, not just a patient.

God bless the NHS. It was why we’d returned. My insurance in America had been shit, and Dave’s wasn’t much better. Coming home was the logical thing to do.

It had felt right too. Dying on home soil. I didn’t have a family to speak of, and my friends were long gone, but at least I’d be here. Finally home. Just as I’d secretly longed to be for the past few years.

“Don’t forget to collect your card at reception.” She nodded towards the desk. “And tell that feckless boyfriend of yours to book the whole day off for your next session. You’re not in America anymore—any employer worth their salt would allow him time off for this.”

Privately, I agreed with her, but Dave had insisted it wasn’t possible, and honestly? I was too tired to push. The pre-cancer version of me would have. He would’ve argued the toss until he was blue in the face.

But I was just so fucking tired. Everything had changed in the last nine months, including me.

And it wasn’t like Dave hadn’t been supportive. He had. But he’d also had to give up his career to move back with me, something I didn’t take for granted in the least. So if he needed to put the extra work in to cement his current position, I could hardly begrudge him for it.

Unlike my career in LA, Dave’s hadn’t struggled at all. Which made sense given it was why we’d made the move in the first place. There was more call for a talented sound engineer in Hollywood than Southampton.

I’d just come around to the idea of moving to accounting, which was what my degree was in, when I’d found out that wasn’t to be my destiny either.

Death, God, fate, whoever the fuck was in charge, had allotted me a certain amount of time, and I was racing towards the end of it in a car with faulty breaks. I could press down on them. It might slow the inevitable. But it wouldn’t stop it.