“I just lost a breast, which even if it was small, I'm still vain enough to not want to be scarred for life … I may lose my hair …my ability to have children …everything's changed, and you're even telling me you're not sure how you're going to feel about me physically. How could I not be freaked out by this, Sam? I'd have to be dead not to feel it.”

“Maybe I just don't get it. If I found out I was sterile next week, I'd be sorry, but I'd be happy we had Annabelle, and let it go at that. Stop making such a big deal out of everything. Your identity is your brain and your life and your career, and everything you are and do and represent, not one boob or two. Who cares?”

“Maybe you do,” she said honestly.

“Yeah. Maybe so. So what? So screw me. Learn to live with it yourself, then maybe I'll feel better about it. But I'm not going to sit around and wring my hands with you, it would drive us both crazy if I did.”

“So what are you saying to me?”

“I'm telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself, and forget it.” There was something positive in what he said, and yet there was another part of him that was being deeply insensitive to what she was feeling. “I don't want to think about your having cancer all the time. I can't do it.” That was more honest than she knew.

“What do you mean, ‘all the time’?” She looked shocked as she looked at him. “This happened yesterday, and I've seen you twice in two days for less than an hour each time, I wouldn't say we've spent a lot of time on this.”

“I don't think ‘we' should have to. It's something you're going to have to deal with and work out.”

“Thanks for your help.”

“I can't help you, Alex. You have to help yourself.”

“I'll remember that.”

“I'm sorry you're so angry,” he said quietly, which only made her madder.

“So am I.” They sat quietly for a few more minutes and then Sam stood up, and looked at her uncomfortably.

“I guess I should go home to Annabelle. It's getting late, and I promised her I'd come home for dinner.” Alex felt him slipping out of her grasp, and it panicked her. She had said none of the right things to him to elicit his sympathy, and he hadn't said anything right either. She was angry at him for not being there for her. He hadn't been there when she woke up from the surgery, or when they'd told her she'd lost her breast and had cancer, and he hadn't been there all day today. He'd been out with Simon and his clients, at fancy restaurants, making deals and being important. And he didn't seem to understand any of what she was feeling. He didn't understand how shaky she was, or how scared, how unsure of herself suddenly, or of his love for her. And it was too easy for him to just say that one breast or two was unimportant. It was important to her. She cared about how she looked to him, and she cared desperately about whether or not he loved her, and he wasn't saying anything to convince her that he would love her no matter what. In fact, he was reserving judgment to see how it affected him when he saw what it looked like. She was still furious when he left, and she noticed that he kissed her on the forehead again, instead of the lips, as though he was suddenly afraid to touch her.

She sat in her room and cried again that night. She didn't even bother walking down the hall, or calling Annabelle, and she didn't call Sam either. She just wanted to be left alone, and she had her back to the door, when it opened and she heard someone come in. She assumed it was the nurse, and she didn't turn to see. She just sat in her chair and kept on crying.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and for a wild moment, she thought it might be Sam, but when she looked up, she was startled to see Elizabeth Hascomb. “Did you come to visit me?” Alex asked her, surprised to see her.

“Yes, I did,” she explained, “but I didn't know it was you until tonight,” suddenly feeling as though she was intruding, but that was just what she needed to do, and she knew it. “I work for the breast surgery support group here, twice a week, and you were on the visiting list tonight when I got here. The card said A. Parker … I couldn't believe it. I asked to be assigned to see if it was you. I hope you don't mind, Alex,” she said gently, and then she put her arms around her like a mother and brought tears to her employer's eyes. “Oh Alex …I'm so sorry …” Alex couldn't even speak for a while, she just sat in Liz's arms and sobbed. She couldn't hold up anymore, there were so many fears and terrors and disappointments to deal with. “I know … I know …just cry …you'll feel better.”

“I'm never going to feel better again,” Alex said miserably, looking at her through her tears, and Liz smiled.

“Yes, you will. It's hard to believe now, but you will. We've all been through it.”

“You too?” Alex was surprised, she didn't know that about Liz.

“I've had both breasts removed,” she explained, “years ago. I wear a prosthesis. But they do wonderful reconstructive work now. At your age you should think about that. Not yet though,” she said gently. She seemed so wise and loving, and Alex was so relieved that Liz had come to see her.

“I have to have chemotherapy.” Alex started to cry harder again and Liz sat and held her hand, grateful she had found her. She had never suspected what Alex was going through, although she realized now that she should have.

“I had chemo. And hormone therapy too. I've had it all, but that was seventeen years ago, and I'm fine. You will be too, if you do everything they tell you to do. You have a wonderful doctor.” And then she looked at her more pointedly. Alex was in bad shape and she could see it. “How's Sam taking all this?”

“First he wouldn't even acknowledge it was happening, he kept telling me they wouldn't find anything. And now he's annoyed that I'm upset. He thinks I'm making too much of it, and losing a breast is ‘no big deal,' but at the same time he's saying it might bother him, and he just doesn't know how he feels about it, he'll let me know when he sees it.”

“He's scared, Alex. It's frightening for him, too. That's small consolation for you, but some men just can't cope with the threat of their wife having cancer.”

“His mother died of cancer when he was a kid, and I think this reminds him of it. Either that, or he's just being a bastard.”

“Maybe a little of both. What you need to do now is concentrate on you. Never mind him. Sam can take care of himself, especially if he's not going to take care of you. What you need to do is get as strong as you can, and stay that way. You have to fight the disease. You can worry about everything else later.”

“But what if he's disgusted by me, if my body frightens him?” That was terrifying her, as Liz looked at her calmly. All her sympathy was for Alex, not Sam. She knew. She'd been through it, and it hadn't been easy for her either. Her husband had had a hard time coping at first, but eventually he had come around, and been a big support to Liz. But she knew, better than anyone, that with or without Sam, Alex had to survive this.

“He'll have to grow up, won't he? He's a big boy, he can figure it out. He knows what you need now, but if he can't provide it, then you have to get it from friends, or family, or a support group. We're here for you. I'm here, anytime you need me.” Alex started to cry again then, and Liz took her in her motherly arms and held her.

She gave Alex a few exercises to do, and told her some things to think about, and she didn't leave her any booklets. She knew Alex too well to do that. Alex had no patience with brochures or superficial information. She got right to the heart of things. And for her, the heart of things right now was survival.

“When are you going home?”

“Probably Friday.”

“Fine. Get strong, sleep a lot, take the medications, if you're in pain. Eat regularly, get as healthy as you can before you start chemo. You're going to need all your energy for that,” she said wisely.

“I'm coming back to the office after next week.” She said it tentatively as though asking Liz's opinion. It was suddenly very comforting to have someone to talk to who'd been there. And Liz had survived it.

“A lot of women go back to work, even during chemo. You'll just have to figure what works best for you, when to rest, when to stay home, when to take the most advantage of your energy. It's a little bit like waging a war. All you want to do is win. Never forget that. And no matter how miserable it is, chemo will help you win this.”

“I wish I believed that.”

“Don't listen to the horror stories, and just keep your focus on the goal. Win, win, win. Don't even let Sam distract you from that. If he can't help you, forget him for now.” Alex laughed at the vehemence with which Liz said it.

“You make me feel better.” And then she looked at her secretary sheepishly, amazed at this other life she'd known nothing about. It was incredible how there were things about people no one knew, and that were so important. Just as no one had known she was coming to have a biopsy, and possibly surgery, while she was away from the office.

“I think I was very rude this morning to some woman from your support group. Alice something,” Alex said apologetically, and Liz smiled at her.

“Ayres. She's used to it. Maybe one day you'll do something like this. It means a lot to a lot of people.”

“Thank you, Liz,” she said, and meant every word of it.

“May I come back and see you tomorrow? Maybe at lunchtime?”

“I'd love that. Just don't tell anyone at the office. I don't want them to know. Although eventually, I'll have to tell Matthew, probably once I start the chemo.”

“That's up to you. I won't say anything.”

They embraced again, and Liz left, and when Alex went to bed that night, she felt better than she had in days, and surprisingly less angry. She lay in bed thinking about everything, and she decided to call Sam and tell him she loved him.