Destroyed(111)

Fox froze. “Cancer?”

I hung my head, fighting the tears, cursing my wobbling frame. Sucking a deep breath, I spat out the entire truth, the history, the fear, reeling it off as fast as I could. “I told you I bought her the star necklace on her fourth birthday. I couldn’t afford it, but I had to buy it. That was the first day she was admitted to the hospital from a coughing fit. She was so scared. So freaked out. After she was discharged, I would’ve done anything to battle away the terror in her eyes from almost suffocating to death.

“The next time was only a few months later. She’d gone from a healthy toddler to active child who would suddenly collapse in a coughing fit. She was diagnosed with severe asthma. We were given inhalers and oxygen purifiers and told to avoid certain foods. And for a while, it seemed to work.

“A few years went by with the occasional episode and two more journeys to the ER. Clara was a trooper. Never complaining, so strong willed and amazingly happy considering she had an array of tablets and inhalers to take and use every morning.”

I stopped. My lip wobbled, and I bit down on it, drawing blood, focusing on the pain. It helped mask the agony of remembering that day only a month ago.

Fox dragged his hands through his hair. “Go on. Don’t stop. I want to know all of it.”

“A month ago, Clara collapsed and the usual emergency inhaler didn’t work. She was announced clinically dead in the ambulance as we tore to the hospital. They managed to bring her back, but stole her from me for hours to perform tests. I had no idea what they were doing with her. I threatened to burn the hospital to the ground if they didn’t let me see her.”

I shook my head, remembering the exact afternoon as if it replayed in perfect detail before me. “Clara sat up in bed slurping on red Jell-O. She was awake, rosy cheeked, and happy. All my debilitating fear disappeared, and I felt as if life had finally given me good news. I’d done endless research on asthma in children and a lot of them grow out of it as they get older. I stupidly thought that the episode signalled the end, and she would never have another one again.

“That was before the doctors took me into another room and told me my daughter was dying.” My hands clenched and all the rage I’d bottled-up exploded.

I glared at Fox, not caring my cheeks were stained with tears. I wanted to kick and punch and kill. “That was the day they told me they f*cking misdiagnosed my child. That she had Pleuropulmonary Blastoma and the tumours had grown so big they were suffocating her day by day. They said operating wasn’t an option as it’d spread to other parts of her body. They said the only choice was chemo, and that would only extend her life by a few months. They said they were f*cking sorry and offered me counselling. They spoke about her as if she was already dead!”

Fox hadn’t moved. His body looked immobile, locked to the carpet. His eyes flashed with such livid anger I feared he’d track down the doctors and kill them himself.

“That was the day I died. I accepted your contract for a stupid fantastical dream of a trial drug in America. Something that has the power to reduce white blood cells and stop the cancer from spreading. But even if it worked, Clara is riddled with it. It lives in her blood. Killing her every second. That’s why I agreed to sell myself to you. That’s why I kept coming back. And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I didn’t want to admit my daughter was dying and I couldn’t save her. No matter what hope I chased I would fail.”

Fox tore his eyes from mine, pacing to the mural of the black fox on the wall. His hands opened and closed by his thighs. “How long?”

My throat closed up.

“Mummy, when I’m old enough, do you think I can have a puppy?”

Everything Clara ever wanted was in the future. When she was old enough. When she’d grown up. I never had the heart to tell her that there would be no Pegasus or puppy or university education.

Shit, I couldn’t do this. I would never be ready to say goodbye.

He spun to face me. “How f*cking long, Hazel?”

Steeling every muscle in my body, I voiced Clara’s death sentence. “A few months.”

“Fuck!” Fox whirled around and punched the wall so hard his fist disappeared through the painting. “And you didn’t think to tell me? You didn’t think I ought to f*cking know? For f*ck’s sake! I’m in love with that little girl! You allowed me to fall head over f*cking heels knowing full well I was about to lose the one thing curing me. She’s the key to f*cking healing me, and you tell me she’s about to die!”

“Shut up!” I glared at him almost suffocating Clara in my arms. “Enough!”

Fox ignored me. Thumping his chest, he winced in agony. “You gave me everything, and I stupidly thought I had a future. A f*cking family. I had something to strive for. Something to fight for. I was doing it all for her!”

He charged toward me, the harbinger of death and destruction.

I braced myself for his wrath. Kill me. Then I don’t have to watch her die.

He glared, looking so strong and invincible. Then something cracked inside him. He transformed from a broken, livid male to an unfeeling, unthinking machine. He willingly gave himself to the ruthless conditioning of his past—shutting down his hard won emotions.

The ease of which he regressed terrorized me. I screamed, “Don’t go back. Don’t give up. You love her. Don’t abandon her when she needs you the most.” Don’t abandon me.