Page 61 of Entrapped
She paused, her expression gentle but guarded. “The doctor will be out to speak with you soon, Mrs. Ashworth. We’re still running tests.”
I nodded numbly, sinking back into my chair as she walked away. The seconds dragged on like hours, each one pulling me further into a spiral of fear and doubt. My mind raced with questions I couldn’t answer. What if I lost him? What if all the secrets he’d kept, all the lies, meant nothing in the end because he wasn’t here to answer for them?
The sound of the doors swinging open snapped me out of my thoughts. A doctor in a white coat approached, his expression unreadable. I stood, my heart pounding so loudly I could barely hear him when he spoke.
“Mrs. Ashworth?”
“Yes,” I choked out, stepping forward. “How is he? What’s wrong with him?”
He glanced at the chart in his hands before meeting my gaze. “Your husband has experienced a significant drop in blood pressure, likely due to severe exhaustion and stress. We’re running a few more tests to rule out any underlying conditions, but for now, he’s stable.”
“Stable?” I echoed, the word both a relief and a new source of anxiety. “But what does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”
The doctor offered a small, reassuring smile. “He’ll need rest, and we’ll keep him under observation for a while. But with proper care, he should recover.”
The weight on my chest lifted just slightly, but the knot of tension in my stomach remained. “Can I see him?” I asked, desperate to be by his side.
“Of course. He’s resting now, but you can go in.”
I nodded, following the doctor down the sterile hallway. My thoughts were a jumble of relief and fear. I loved him—God, I loved him so much. But there were secrets between us, dark shadows that hung over our marriage. I didn’t know how we’d confront them, but as I entered the room and saw him lying there, pale but alive, I knew one thing for sure.
I wasn’t ready to lose him. Not now. Not ever. No matter what the future held, I would fight for him, for us. And when he woke, we’d have to face those secrets together.
Tears blurred my vision as I struggled to comprehend the doctor’s words. Colson had always been a force of nature, someone I believed was invincible. But now, with his life hanging in the balance, I felt utterly helpless. How could I have been so blind? Had I been so wrapped up in my pregnancy that I’d missed the signs—the weight loss, the fatigue, the way he seemed to be slipping away right before my eyes?
The doctor placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, his expression full of pity. “Mr. Ashworth needs treatment. Please, talk to him.”
I nodded numbly as he walked away, leaving me alone with the man I loved more than anything. Colson lay in the hospital bed, his face pale against the white sheets, his body so still it terrified me. The diagnosis—stage four pancreatic cancer - echoed in my mind like a death sentence. It had spread to other organs, leaving little hope. What I had dismissed as simple exhaustion was something far worse. He was dying, and our baby might never know its father.
I wiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling as I reached for his hand, desperate for any connection. His hand, usually cool, was warm for once, a small comfort in the midst of this nightmare. As if sensing my touch, his eyes fluttered open, the familiar blue now clouded with pain.
“Joey,” he whispered, his voice so weak it broke my heart.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to stay calm. “How long, Colson?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my efforts to keep it steady.
He looked away, unable to meet my gaze. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
The realization hit me hard, knocking the wind out of me. “But you did tell me,” I said, piecing it together. “All the talk of the future, the mention of time being short—you were trying to tell me you were sick.”
His sigh was heavy, filled with a weariness I hadn’t noticed before. For the first time, Colson seemed small, vulnerable. “I’ve known for a few weeks.”
My breath caught in my throat. “And treatment? Have you been getting treatment since you’ve known?” I demanded, my voice rising with panic.
“Sweetheart…”
“Tell me the truth, Colson!” I cut him off, my fear and anger boiling over. “Is the man with so many secrets keeping one more? God, Colson, we’re having a baby. I can’t do this alone.”
He finally turned to look at me, his eyes filled with guilt and sorrow. “I didn’t want to burden you, Joey. You’re carrying our child… I couldn’t add this to your worries.”
My heart ached at his words, but they did nothing to soothe the rage bubbling beneath the surface. “This isn’t just about you!” I cried, gripping his hand tighter. “We’re in this together, remember? How could you keep something like this from me?”
Colson closed his eyes, a single tear slipping down his cheek. “I was trying to protect you.”
“Well, you failed,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m terrified, Colson. Terrified of losing you. You should’ve let me in...”
He opened his eyes again, and the raw vulnerability in his gaze nearly undid me. “I’m so sorry, Joey,” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry.”
I leaned forward, pressing my forehead to his, our tears mingling as I tried to hold on to the man I loved. “We’ll fight this,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “We’ll fight this with everything we have.”
But even as I said the words, a part of me knew the truth. Colson had been fighting this battle alone for weeks, and now, as the reality of his illness loomed over us, I couldn’t shake the terrifying thought that it might already be too late.
The End