She Had Cancer and Jen Noticed
Three months of chemotherapy. Three months? How the hell was she going to be able to do that without Jen becoming suspicious? Jen couldn't find out about the cancer. Judy refused to have that happen. She did contemplate for a hot minute whether to just not agree to any treatment at all. But it took only that entire minute for her to realize what a shitty idea it would be. That would likely hurt Jen more than keeping the secret from her surely would. Despite her belief that she was no good for Jen—Jen genuinely loved her and losing her…a large breath drew in threw her nose, she swallowed hard. Judy knew if she ended up dying, especially from refusing cancer treatment, it was going to devastate the hell out of Jen. She couldn't do that to her. Jen was her whole heart. Jen showed her nothing but love and forgiveness the past few months. Judy had to fight regardless of if she wanted to or not. That was the fucking least she could do for Jen. The least.
"Are you okay, Jude?"
The pair were lounged out on the outdoor sofa, their favorite show playing on the TV in front of them, when Jen randomly threw the query at Judy. An eyebrow quirked as she stared the brunette over precisely. Ever since it was revealed to them that those shadows weren't cancer, relief washed over Jen. But, even so, something seemed off about Judy. Judy should be happy, smiling—planning a getaway or big event to celebrater. But Judy didn't appear to be happy. Sure, she smiled but it wasn't a normal Judy smile. No, Jen noticed, it never reached those beautiful brown eyes of hers as it usually had when she would smile.
Judy averted her eyes from the screen onto the blonde sitting beside her and nodded. She wasn't okay. Not even close. But Jen couldn't know that. So, naturally, her lips curved up in a smile and she wrapped an arm around Jen's waist. At least if she convinced her everything was fine, that there was no need to worry, eventually she'd have to give and believe it. Hell, maybe all those books she read about the universe hearing the thoughts she put out were true. Maybe if she started to believe the cancer wasn't actually inside her it would magically poof itself away.
"Yeah, yeah of course," Judy assured her with a simultaneous squeeze against the waist her arm encircled itself around. "I'm good, Jen, great even. Are you okay? I know the whole cancer thing caused a big scare for you, too. I'm sorry. At least it wasn't actually cancer, right?"
At least it wasn't cancer. Jen nodded her head. At least it wasn't cancer. But, for fuck sake, it could have been. It could have been fucking cancer. She could have lost Judy. She still struggled to process she almost could have lost the best thing to have ever happened to her. Her heat bled for Judy because Judy was her heart. Judy was everything to her. She could live without Ted, without Ben, and—fuck—even without—dare she say it—she could even live without fucking wine. But Judy? Live without Judy? Without her Judy? That was like asking her to live without oxygen. Impossible. No, scratch that…im-fucking-possi—fucking-ble.
None of that, however, was going to be said. Jen already determined that halfway through her mental rant. Instead, she settled for matching Judy's smile with one of her own. All that mattered was Judy was alive and right there beside her, now. She nodded to herself, sliding her arms around Judy. They pulled her closer—as close as she could possibly have her—and a kiss was given to the top of her head. The racing thoughts weren't important anymore. She had her Judy. And she wasn't fucking letting go. Ever.
"I'm just so, so glad you don't have cancer—"
Judy swallowed uneasily and bit down on her tongue. Guilt was growing by the second. She forgot how guilty lying made her feel. She should have known better. With fucking the car and Steve and Ted and all. She couldn't keep that secret for no longer than a month or two before the guilt finally made her snap. Who was to say she could go three months without ever feeling mentally sick enough that she had to let it out like she did the hit and run?
But Jen wasn't done talking she realized.
Judy sighed and tried to yank herself away from her thoughts. Jen was more important than any of the worries or guilt slowly buzzing about her mind. It was time she stopped being so focused on her and put her energy into the beautiful blonde right beside her, she affirmed. The beautiful blonde right beside her who had a heart of gold. Even if Jen didn't believe it. Her heart was what made her the most beautiful person in Judy's eyes.
"I even half prayed to God for you to not have cancer and the fact that you don't is almost enough for me to believe in God," Jen snickered at the words spilling from her own damn mouth. She was becoming the person who irked her most, she realized. And all she could do was laugh. Just because Judy ended up not having cancer didn't automatically prove God existed, she sternly tried reminding herself. On top of that, in the grand scheme of things, it didn't really matter whether God was real or not. Only that Judy was healthy and the two could move on with their lives. Together.
Together, she repeated. A smile returned to her face. Jen turned her head in Judy's direction and lifted one of her hands from around her waist and cupped it around a soft cheek. "I love you so much, Jude. I can't even—shit, I can't even tell you how relieved I am that you're okay. That was scary."
Judy shuffled her feet against the stone ground under them and nodded her head. Smiling so wide she thought for sure her lips might break off. "I love you, too. And I know. But that's behind us now. We're okay."
A day went by or maybe two. Maybe three. Judy couldn't exactly tell how many days. The guilt was tearing her up inside. And having met with the oncologist earlier that morning, the news of the chemo needing to start sooner rather than later only worsened her emotions. How the hell was she to keep this all hidden away from Jen when she felt like she was bursting at the seams?
Judy might have thought she was doing a spectacular job of putting up her cheery, positive, front but Jen noticed.
Jen noticed. She fucking noticed alright. Since the day they were sat in the kitchen waiting for that damn phone call. And even more so after the phone call finished. That was when Jen really noticed something fishy with Judy. Judy didn't act entirely like herself after the phone conversation. With the good news of the shadows not being cancer Jen would have expected a more enthusiastic response but that was never fully received.
There was a thump.
Jen looked up from the television but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.
Another thump was heard. This time louder, rougher. So rough it seemed to cause a faint shaking between the walls of her bedroom. She decided it was best to get up and check what the cause of it was. However, she had only shut off the TV—not even gotten off of her bed yet—when a third thump boomed through the room. The loudness of the thump and where it sounded to be coming from made her jump down from the bed even faster than she had originally set out to do. Judy now resided in the guestroom on the other side of her wall and that was where her ears noticed the thump deriving from.
By the time she made it into the guestroom, which was only a matter of minutes after the fact, her heart rapidly sank into the pit of her stomach. Her legs slowly took her farther into the room while her mind was unable to wholly comprehend the vision before her.
There wasn't any time for her to worry about that, though, she needed to focus on helping Judy up off the floor. Jen picked up her pace, frisking over to her side and taking both of her hands into her own so that she could pull her up that way. It took a few pulls but she finally was able to at least help Judy into a sitting position. A relieving sigh came out of her once she had accomplished that much and she carefully lowered herself onto the floor right beside her. She felt her eyes close on their own so she used the moment to inhale a breath.
With an exhale she reopened them and reached out to grab Judy's face in her hands. "What happened? Jude, what happened just now?"
The dizziness didn't go away any even after she felt Jen pull her up from the ground. Even having Jen's hands around her face did nothing to ease the sensation. A sensation she couldn't be forthcoming with with Jen. She swallowed and fixed her stare anywhere but on Jen's face. Because she knew if she looked her straight the eyes, she'd be guilted into finally spilling the truth. And as much as that was probably the best thing she could do for not only Jen but herself, too, she resisted. Jen already suffered so much pain, so much fucking loss—Judy couldn't bring herself to pile any more shit on it.
"Oh, uh, nothing. I just, I went for a run earlier and I forgot that I can't breathe when I run so I got dizzy and by the time I made it back in here…I guess the dizziness was a little too much."
Jen shook her head. Not only was Judy not dressed in clothes that would indicate she had planned to run but the full face of make-up and loose hair also gave her away. She shook her head harder. Judy hardly wore make-up. Yet, now, here in front of her—clear as fucking day—it was caked on her. A little too thickly. As if she were trying to hide something under it. Out of extreme concern—and definite impulse—Jen rubbed her hand a bit harshly on Judy's cheeks until the powder and blush faded away.
The closer she examined the heavier her chest felt. "Jesus, Jude, no wonder you put so much damn make-up on. You're so pale. And what are these brown-ish-black bags under your eyes?" Jen placed a thumb underneath one and gently caressed around the flesh of it. She shook her head again. This time out of disbelief. Maybe some anger mixed in. Judy looked sick. So, so sick. Was this why Judy wasn't being herself?
Judy swallowed and squeezed her eyes shut. Jen noticed. She was afraid that would happen. That was the whole fucking reason she spent hours every morning putting that damn make-up on. She didn't want Jen to notice. But she did. Boy did she ever. She opened her eyes once more and knew the moment she returned Jen's gaze that the guilt beat her yet again. The truth couldn't be withheld any longer. Jen noticed and Judy couldn't believably explain it away without looking like an idiot. So, the truth it was.
"I've been—I've been lying to you, Jen." Her voice was low, shameful. It was wrong of her to lie about something as serious as cancer but she didn't do out of malicious intent. She wanted to keep Jen from having to watch her slowly, painfully, die. Which, in the end, was going to happen regardless of if she told her or not.
"Oh, god, Jude," Jen muttered softly back. She should have said something earlier. She noticed and she never brought it up. Fuck. Her hands retained their hold on Judy's cheeks. "About the results? The test results of your scan, that's what you're talking about isn't it?"
A guilty nod was given in response. Judy bit down her lip and tried to hold back the tears that were desperately threatening to spill out. "I, I do…I, uh, I do have cancer, Jen. Stage four cervical cancer. I'm so—I'm so sorry I kept that from you," she whispered, the tears too intense for her to hold them any longer.
Jen wanted to be angry. Wanted to yell and scream at Judy for not telling her right after that stupid fucking phone call. But it was dumb. It was all so dumb, so meaningless. To be angry—to yell, scream. And at Judy? Poor, sweet, Judy who probably only kept this from her out of not wanting to be a burden. Which also was stupid, Jen gritted her teeth. Judy would never be a burden. Never. She loved Judy—she loved her so fucking much. Other than her kids, Judy was the only positive thing in her life. She couldn't let cancer take her sweet Judy.
After taking a deep breath, Jen released herself from her thoughts and brought her attention back on Judy across from her. She still couldn't find the words to say so she inched their faces closer and let their lips naturally connect together. They remained like that for several seconds before either pulled away.
Jen held Judy at arms' length. She peered fiercely into her eyes and caressed the tips of her fingers up and down each of Judy's arms. "Judy…Judy…god, Judy," the words frantically came through, she shook her head but kept the soothing sensation on her arms. "I kind of get why you didn't want to say anything. Cancer is fucking scary. God. Damn it, Jude. Why the hell are you sorry? It's not your fault you have cancer," Jen firmly assured her, tears freely falling along her face now.
She stopped stroking her and instead wrapped both of her arms securely around Judy's waist, pulling her into her. "Judy. I can't. I can't, Judy, I can't fucking lose you."
Jen grabbed Judy's head with one hand, bringing it down to rest on her chest. She then laid her own head over the top of Judy's and let herself cry with her. "I love you. I love you more than anyone, aside from my boys, but I love you more than anyone. You're my heart, honey. My whole fucking goddamn heart and I refuse to lose you," her voice spoke shakily through sniffles and the occasional sob. She slowly—gently—rocked them back and forth. Lips brushed warmly on the top of Judy's head. "We're gonna fight this, honey, together. I won't let the cancer take you from me. I swear to God, Jude, I'm not living a life without you in it. You're the love of my life. I want you; I want the rest of my damn life to be spent with you so we're gonna fucking make sure that happens. I promise you that, Jude. We're going to fucking beat the hell outta the cancer."