"She's doing better." I'm not much of a cleaner so I don't really know exactly how to use this thing but I'll try my damnedest. I haven't been the best man lately and I don't know much about being a good one, but I know that I have to go pick Izzie up in two hours because she gets to come home, and she at least deserves to come home to a clean house. "They're letting her come home but she has to take a couple days off work to rest up and stuff but they say she should be just fine." I plug the cord into an electrical outlet by the TV and search the machine for the power switch. I told Izzie to call her mother when she was feeling better but in typical Izzie fashion, she didn't want to worry her so she never even called. I took it upon myself to call Robby though. I just thought she should know. "Yeah, Dr. Swindle said she can go back to work as long as she stays on top of her treatments."

I find the power switch next to the handle and put my index finger on it. "Yes ma'am. No ma'am. I will." I brace the phone to my ear using my shoulder and start to untwine the rest of cord so I have some leeway with this thing. "I'll make sure she calls you when she gets home. Yeah. Yep. Sure. Alright Rob, take care. Buh-bye." I take my phone away from my ear and shut it off. Iz's mom can talk someone's ear off so I'm glad I caught her when she was in the middle of something. If she had free time, she would've talked to me for hours and I don't need that. When my phone is all free from me talking on it, I reach into my pocket and grab my tangled wad of headphones. I pick them out of a knot and shove them in my ears. I put the music I have on my phone on shuffle and turn the vacuum cleaner on.

These last few days have been my own personal version of hell. It's so nerve-wracking to have to sit by the bedside and watch someone you love suffer the way Izzie's been suffering. She's on the most toxic dose of chemotherapy treatment and it takes so much out of her for them to keep poking and prodding her body like a needle cushion. The thing that's driving me the craziest is the fact that I'm a DOCTOR…and I can't fix her. I can't just wave my magic little medicinal wand and make her be okay when I get PAID to fix things other people can't. But I can't fix her… All I can do is sit back and watch while they take her away from me piece by piece, vein by vein trying to fix her using some tactic that might buy her some time with me, a few days at the least.

While I push the vacuum back and forth, I notice that the floor was really dirty. Like I said, I'm not much of a cleaner but it looks like I might have to step it up. I used to be able to count on my laundry being done, the sheets being washed, the floors being clean and the bed being made every morning. Izzie used to take care of all of that for me. But I anticipate that she'll be very meek, tiresome and fragile when she gets home so I'm gonna have to step it up. I'll make sure the house is clean; I'll do my best to wash up all her laundry, change out the bed sheets and attempt to make dinner tonight. How hard can it possibly be to follow a recipe? I cut people open for a living and I was bred on doing complex sutures…a recipe should be quite simple, right?

Anyway, I've had a lot of time to sit around and think within these last few days. Once the attendings got word that Iz was real sick again, they gave me a pretty light workload. I didn't ask for a light workload, the attendings just thought it'd be nice to automatically give me one but in all honesty, I would rather work. If I spent all my time working instead of all my time at Iz's bedside watching her wither away, I wouldn't have that much time to think and I wouldn't be driving myself crazy.

Iz said something about wanting to move the wedding up because she felt like she was going but once she started feeling better; she stopped all that crazy talk. I won't lie about having cold feet. It's starting really hit me how much I don't want to get married. It's not even that I don't want to get married to Iz anymore because I don't love her; I do still love her, I just don't think I'm ready to get married. When I get married, I want to do it right. I want to be able to take those sacred vows and mean it. I don't want to worry about cheating once I take those vows and I feel like if I got married right now, I'd be nothing but a cheater and I don't want to do that.

Anyway, we're still looking at October for the wedding with Dr. Swindle's blessing. She says that Iz will still be around come October unless some weird freak accident happens and she ends up dying in some off the wall way. They caught the new mets early enough to shrink them with chemo and they shouldn't cause any problems. Great, because that means I have until October to do one of four things: Fall so far in love with Izzie that I want to marry her wholeheartedly, mutually end things on a good note with her, come to terms with the fact that she'll hate me when I end it even though I don't want her to, or my feelings for the pretty brown eyes can go away. One of those four things has to happen by October.

I've been thinking about my pretty brown eyes a lot within these last couple days as well. I'm honestly a little bit irritated with her and I'm glad that she hasn't even made an effort to talk to me because I still need a little while to cool down. I just can't believe she had the balls to ask me to leave Izzie, KNOWING that she's sick again. I just need Jo to get it and she just doesn't. I need her to get that I don't want her to hate me. I need her to understand that I do care for her and I don't want to spend the rest of my life not talking to her because she IS a very good friend. But I also need her to comprehend that she DOES come second and she will come second for as long as I'm with Izzie.

That sounds harsh but it's the dead honest truth. Right now, all Jo is to me is the woman I cheated on my fiancée with, that's it. She's no more to me than that, she's no less to me than that. She's the one I cheated on Iz with and that's all she can be until I sort this out. I know I'm already past the whole "not wanting to be a cheater". That ship has sailed last Sunday when I had sex with her. But there's a limit, you know? There's a limit to how far I'm willing to go with that. It shouldn't have happened in the first place and I would hate my guts more than I already do if I kept it going.

Part of me knew that I wouldn't have allowed Jo to be okay with sneaking around with me. She's more than that to me and she should be more than that to everybody. I knew she'd say no and I knew that I wouldn't have let her say yes. But still, I suggested it because I didn't want her to just be done with me. I don't want to lose her as my friend and I'm already going crazy because I haven't talked to her in a while. I wanted her to know that I really do think that sneaking around with her would be better than being nothing to her. I would love for her to be my girl. I don't know what it is about her that's got me hooked, maybe it's the pretty brown eyes—MY pretty brown eyes. I don't know what it is… but I want her to be somebody more than my mistress and she can't…at least not right now she can't be.

I'm done vacuuming the living room I think, so I sit down on the couch and hold my head in my hands. I kind of wish I could cut my skull open and take my brain out for a little while. I just want to be able to function without thinking because thinking makes me feel like shit. I feel like I'm doing the right thing by sticking by Izzie. I feel like this is what I'm supposed to do and in doing this, I'm a man. But how can I feel good about this when I know in the back of my mind that I'm hurting Jo? And how could I feel good about leaving Izzie when I once loved her enough to want to make her my fiancée? I've spent 32 years of my life trying to set myself aside and make damn sure that I'm not my father. That sack of shit did nothing but run when things got too hard to deal with. If I leave Izzie, does that make me like him? Am I nothing but a clone of him?

I used to think growing up without parents would make me a better person in the end but who was I kidding? All growing up without parents did was make me well aware of what not to do if and when I have kids of my own. My crazy ass mom didn't teach me how to be all affectionate and stuff and my shitty ass dad sure as hell didn't teach me how to be a man. All the two of them ever did for me was teach me what NOT to do. No actually, no parents taught me a lot. When people look at me, they probably only see a messed up guy with no feelings, asshole tendencies; the first class jerk. But I promise there's more to me than that.

My mom… she was good for a little while. She was good when she was lucid. There was one time when made me a birthday cake from scratch. The whole thing was from scratch too. She let me help her crack the eggs and she didn't even get mad when I dropped a shell in the mixture. She even let me stir the powdered sugar and milk to make the frosting. At four years old, I thought it was the greatest thing ever when she put blue food coloring in the frosting to write "Happy 5th B-Day Alex" on the cake. I thought only cakes that came from the stores that we couldn't afford came with blue frosting yet somehow, like a superhero or something, she made it possible for my birthday cake to have blue frosting.

She would always yell at me for eating raw cookie dough and cake batter and stuff but because it was my birthday, she let me lick the mixers with the frosting on them. She was trying to clean up so that there wasn't a mess in the kitchen when it was time to sing happy birthday to me and I was getting in the way, so she picked me up and sat me on the counter with the mixers and the bowl she mixed the frosting in and let me lick the bowl until it was completely clean. I don't know why, but I distinctly remember her cleaning up and stopping at me every five minutes to kiss my forehead while she was singing "As Long As You Love Me" by the Backstreet Boys to me. I remember her switching the lyrics in the song so that instead of singing "As long as you love me baby", she was saying "As long as you love me Ally" to me. Nobody's ever called me "Ally" since she has and the reason why speaks for itself. I used to think that "Ally" was a chick's name but it never bothered me too much when she called me that.

I guess it's kind of sad that that's the only good memory I have of her. She was great until she just wasn't one day. One memory she was baking me a birthday cake from scratch because we couldn't afford to buy one from the store and then the next, she would just sit on the bedroom floor rocking back and forth, staring at the wall. She was singing to me one minute then the next, I was prying a steak knife out of her hands, praying that she wouldn't kill Aaron. Aaron and Amber are way too young to even remember how good she was before she went all half-cocked and crazy on us. I remember the mom that used to fuss at me if I didn't wash behind my ears good enough but all they remember is the one that sat in a comatose state for an entire week because she felt like "they" were coming to take her away.

See, I remembered how good of a mom Helen could've been but Aaron and Amber had no clue. I knew what she could've been and they didn't which is why it was so tough for me to make the decision to call and have her committed. It took real guts at ten years old to lie to the people that were taking her away and tell them that our dad was suited to take care of us, just because I didn't want them to split us up. And for a little while, Jimmy was okay to take care of us. I swear to God for a good two days, he was okay to take care of us. He stayed in with us and he told us that "mom was gonna be okay" and he ordered us takeout pizza for dinner. Until the next day when the three of us were starving half to death and he swore that he was gonna run down to the pub to get us some dinner and he never came back. I was a better dad to Aaron and Ambs than he ever was and I'll forever think that they were better off not knowing that piece of garbage.

I feel a headache coming on so I pull myself up off the couch and go into the kitchen in search of some acetaminophen. I get headaches every time I start to think too much and it's kind of annoying. I go over by the fridge and yank the junk drawer open. I grab the bottle of pain killers, dump three out into my hand and pop them into my mouth. I turn the faucet on, stick my face underneath of it and guzzle some water to swallow the pills with.

I pop my headphones back into my ears and press play. I'd better finish cleaning up before I have to go grab Izzie.

X X X

"I want you to make sure she gets at least twelve hours of rest. Her body is still trying to rebound from the high doses of chemo we administered while she was here." While I'm pushing Iz's wheelchair through the hallway to the elevator, Dr. Swindle is barking orders at me as if this is my first time dealing with Iz post-chemotherapy. Dr. Swindle is pushy…very pushy and very aggressive but she's the best and I need the best for Izzie. "Light foods as well. She might not be able to keep anything down, which is normal by my standards. However she DOES need to eat so if I recommend crackers, soups, ginger ale… light foods. Nothing heavy." I nod my head, wishing she'd shut up. "Call me if she starts vomiting profusely, if she seems disoriented… just call."

"Yeah yeah yeah, call if anything's out of the norm. I got it." Once we reach the elevator, I hold my hand out so she can give me Izzie's prescriptions and stuff. Iz hasn't said much of anything but I know that she's glad to get out of the hospital. She hates it in the hospital beds, eating the hospital food, bored only rewatching the same dumb soap operas over and over again. She prefers to be home and she doesn't make that a secret. "When do you want to see her back?"

Dr. Swindle flips through Izzie's chart and looks up at me. "Bring her back in two days unless she gets worse, then obviously bring her back sooner. Two days at home in the bed then I might release her back to work. No heavy lifting, no vigorous tasks, no persistent cognitive activities. Abstain from strenuous physical activities such as sex." She shuts her chart and looks directly in my eyes, seriousness written all over her face. "And I'm not sure if or when the two of you planned on implanting the frozen embryos…nor is it any of my business. But as her doctor, I think it'd be wise to wait on the baby-making for at least another 6-8 months. The chemo she's on is toxic for her, could be fatal to a fetus."

"Got it." I put my hand against Iz's cheek. She feels really warm. She probably has a bit of a fever which isn't uncommon for cancer patients. The whole "wait to have a baby" thing isn't really bothering me as much as I expected it to. I've pretty much accepted the fact that I'll probably never have kids with Iz. Even if I do stay with her permanently, I don't think her body will ever be strong enough to carry a child and endure birth. We've discussed the possibility of getting a surrogate and things like that but we'll cross that bridge when….if we ever get there. I'll be a dad (and a damn good one) someday and I'm not exactly in a rush to be one anytime soon. "You feelin' alright?" I ask her.

"I'm hanging in there." She sighs, weakly twisting her engagement ring around her finger. When I left her to go clean up at home earlier, she was bummed out that the couple rounds of chemo was gonna make her hair fall out again. I spent the better half of my time there convincing her again that she didn't need her hair to be beautiful. She was just upset that it was finally starting to get long again. "I'm so tired… just make sure I don't fall asleep in the car…"

"If you're tired, go on and sleep." I kneel down and kiss her on her cheek. "I'll make sure you get in the house alright. You're supposed to be sleeping twelve hours anyway." I can tell where they kept sticking the needles at to administer her chemo because the folds of her arms and the backs of both her hands are purplish and bruised. "You're alright as long as I'm here."

"Yeah I know." She mumbles. "I just wanna wait until I'm in a bed."

"I got you." I whisper in her ear with another kiss to her cheek before I stand up and wheel her onto the elevator. Since her back is turned to me and she can't see, I take the opportunity to smack a fallen tear off my face. I'm crying for a number of reasons but really only one reigns supreme. I'm just so tired of seeing her like this, you know? I'm so tired of her being sick and I'm tired of having to be strong. I just wish she could be healthy again. It hurts seeing her like this. It really hurts.

I'm not leaving her. I made up my mind…for good this time. I'm not leaving her, to hell with Jo. I'm gonna stay with her because she needs me and she'll always need me. She needs me more than Jo will ever need me and I would be so much less of a man if I left her for the stupid little intern I took advantage of on my couch last Sunday. God Jo is gonna hate me but I'm gonna have to live with that. I don't love Iz as much as I once thought I did but there is some degree of love there. I know there's some love there because it's KILLING me to see her like this. We're getting married and I'm spending the rest of my life with her. And I'm gonna tell her about my little transgression with Jo. I'm gonna tell her. Our relationship can't be built on a lie. I'm gonna tell her and I'm going to tell Jo to leave me alone for good and that's just what it's gonna be. I think this is the right thing to do.

I swallow a lump in my throat and fish down into my pocket for my cell phone. I slide my finger across the screen to unlock it and go to my text messages. I tap the upper right hand corner to compose a new text. I type her contact name and sigh when I see it. Somehow this just became more real when I actually see those two letters. Somewhere inside my body, I don't want to do this…but I know I have to. I know that this is the right thing for me to do…even though it hurts to do it.

iMessage

Sat, August 7, 2014

5:21 p.m.

Me: Bye Jo…. for good this time.

A/N: I know this chapter was a little bit short but yeah. The Jolex interaction drought is over next chapter though so yay.