(Nate P.O.V)
I stepped into the waiting room, the sterile atmosphere a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions I had just experienced in the PET scan room. Still clad in the flimsy patient clothes, Arabella greeted me, her eyes wide with concern and relief as she rushed forward, wrapping me in a tight hug. It was as if her embrace held the power to erase all the anxieties that had gripped me moments ago.
“Nate, oh my goodness, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she murmured, her voice a soothing balm to my frayed nerves. I could feel the genuine concern in her touch, the weight of her worry pressing against me.
I pulled back slightly, offering her a small but genuine smile. “I’m fine, Arabella,” I assured her, my voice steady despite the lingering traces of tension. I appreciated her caring nature, and her tendency to act like a protective mother hen, but I didn’t want her to worry unnecessarily.
She reached into a bag beside her and handed me my clothes, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes as she tried to hide my embarrassment. “Here,” she said, her tone playful. “Go and change your clothes before you catch a chill.”
I accepted the clothes with a chuckle, feeling a rush of gratitude for her presence. “Thanks,” I replied, turning towards the changing room to get out of the patient gown.
Half an hour later, dressed in my own clothes once again, I rejoined Arabella in the waiting room.
After changing into my own clothes, I stepped back into the waiting room, my gaze immediately drawn to Arabella. She was seated on the couch, her posture tense and her expression wrought with anxiety. Her foot tapped an impatient rhythm on the floor, a clear sign of the restlessness that had taken hold of her. I couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes darted around the room as if seeking an escape from the mounting tension.
With an audible exhale, a hint of frustration escaped her lips, her brows furrowing in a mix of worry and impatience. Her watch, seemingly an innocent accessory, bore the brunt of her gaze as she checked it repeatedly, each glance accompanied by a sigh that spoke volumes about the unbearable ordeal of waiting.
I made my way towards her, my steps purposeful yet cautious. As I took a seat beside her, her rapid drumming of fingers and the restless bouncing of her leg painted a vivid picture of her inner turmoil. I turned towards her, my voice gentle but firm as I sought to offer reassurance.
“It’s going to be okay, Arabella,” I said, my words a soft anchor in the storm of anxiety. My fingers entwined with hers, a gesture meant to convey solidarity and support. “We’ll get through this together, and someday we’ll look back and laugh, remembering the tough times we’re going through right now.”
A tentative smile crept across her lips, a flicker of relief in her eyes as she gazed at me.
"How long will it take for results to come out?" She asked.
"Nurse said it will be out within an hour," I said to her. She nodded her head and relaxed against my side, her head finding a natural resting place on my shoulder.
The minutes had ticked by slowly, each second laden with anticipation. The atmosphere was tense, a reflection of the uncertainty that hung over us like a heavy cloud.
Just as the quiet became almost unbearable, a nurse approached us, her footsteps echoing in the hushed room. She delivered the news we had been waiting for – Doctor Matthew was ready to see us. Arabella and I exchanged a look, a mix of nerves and hope passing between us. With a shared nod, we rose from our seats and followed the nurse’s lead, making our way towards the doctor’s office.
As I stepped into the doctor’s office, the air felt strangely clinical, a stark contrast to the turmoil swirling within me. The sterile scent of disinfectant hung in the air, and the soft hum of medical equipment added a layer of tension. Dr Matthew, his white coat immaculate, greeted us with a gentle smile, motioning towards the chairs across his desk.
“Please, have a seat,” he said, his voice carrying a soothing tone that barely masked the gravity of the situation. I exchanged a nervous glance with Arabella before we both settled into the chairs, the upholstery cool against my palms.
“I’ve reviewed your recent test results, Nate. I’m afraid I have some concerning news.” He paused, giving his words time to sink in.
Arabella’s grip on my hand tightened, her eyes locked onto the doctor, and her lips slightly parted.
“What is it, Doctor?” I managed to ask, my throat suddenly dry.
Dr Matthew’s gaze met mine, his eyes unwavering. “The results indicate that the cancer is more advanced than we initially thought. It has spread deeper than anticipated.”
My heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down on me. Arabella’s breath caught audibly, her hand trembling in mine.
“But there’s a next step we can take,” he continued, his voice taking on a hint of reassurance. “We need to perform a Sentinel Lymph Node Biopsy test to determine the extent of the spread and its depth within your body. It will help us chart the best course of action moving forward.”
I nodded slowly, the words echoing in my mind as I tried to absorb the information. “When can we schedule the biopsy?” I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
“We have an available appointment for the biopsy next week,” he answered, his fingers dancing over the keyboard as he entered the details. “I’ve booked that slot for you.”
As we left the office, the world seemed to blur around me. Arabella’s absence didn’t go unnoticed, and my heart clenched when I realized she hadn’t followed me out. I turned, my gaze landing on her hunched figure still seated in the chair we had shared moments ago.
“Arabella?” I called softly, my voice reaching her ears like a distant echo.
She flinched, her head turning slowly to meet my gaze. Her eyes were glassy, and her face had lost its colour, a stark contrast to her usual vibrancy.
“Shall we head home?” I asked gently, extending my hand towards her.
She looked at me, her expression a mix of vulnerability and confusion. Slowly, she rose from her seat, accepting my outstretched hand. We walked out of the office together, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words and shared anxiety.
“I’ll drive us home,” I offered softly, my voice breaking the silence.
Arabella nodded, her eyes still distant. She seemed to appreciate the gesture, aware of her own shaken state. The drive was a quiet one, each passing moment stretching into eternity as I navigated the streets with a heavy heart. I stole glances at her, unsure of how to bridge the chasm of emotions that now separated us.
The weight of the doctor’s words lingered, casting a shadow over our lives. How could I find the words to comfort Arabella when I struggled to come to terms with reality myself?
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