Together

Good And Bad

I guess all that I have to say is that I'm sorry for this one... I guess that you can murder me for this one if you want... comment and vote if you please just go easy on me lol
-ab

————————————————

December 23, 2025

Harper

My parents sit down on the sofa, and I cuddle up with Patrick in our big reclining chair. It's a tight fit, but if I'm slightly on his lap, then we are able to make it work. Especially today, we have no issues with being close to each other, and realistically, would be more upset about not cuddling.

"Please," I beg, "just... tell me what's going on."

I watch as my parents exchange worried glances.

"Are you sure that this can't wait until another day?" Mom asks me.

"I want to know, and I want to know now."

I feel Patrick place his arm around me and give me a little squeeze as my parents look at each other and search for the right words to say.

"Harper, sweetie, are you sure that you don't want to wait?" Patrick whispers to me. "I don't want whatever this is to ruin your memories of our wedding day..."

"I'm sure that it already has," I admit. "Don't worry about it, love. It's not today that matters to me. It's every day that comes after today."

He squeezes my hand and plants a little kiss on my cheek, before we hear my mother take a deep breath. Both of us snap our attention towards her.

"Well... there's good news and there's bad news in the whole thing. I'd suppose that it'd be common courtesy of me to ask which you'd like first..."

I look at Patrick with questioning eyes.

"Go with the bad first, lovey."

"Alright..."

"Well... I'm not really sure how to say this, Harper, darling... your father has cancer."

I instantly feel a pang in the depths of my stomach as Patrick squeezes my hand, so tightly.

"What?" I spit. "How long have you known? You didn't tell me? Dad?"

He only stares at his hands in his lap.

"Well," I ask quietly, with my voice quivering, "how bad is it?"

"Harper..." my dad admits, "they didn't find it until late. I have a tumor on my brain. They're trying all that they can, but the chances aren't very good."

I hug my knees into my chest and curl into Patrick's lap entirely, at which he wraps his arms around me.

"And what's the good news?" I hear him ask.

"Well, we are going to be spending more time in London, as that's where I'm getting my treatments. It's where I went today. To a doctor's appointment."

I continue to sob in Patrick's arms. I don't know how else to react.

I can't help but wish that maybe I hadn't begged for this news today. That I hadn't have found out, ever.

He's going to survive. He just has to.

He's my dad. He's strong. His whole life, he's been strong. Why should this be any different?

With those thoughts, I manage to compose myself within a few minutes, though I can still barely bring myself to look either of my parents in the eye quite yet. I can't believe that they kept this from me for as long as they did. They should have told me as soon as they found out.

Eventually, though, I suddenly jump out of Patrick's lap and run right over to my dad, throwing myself into his arms for a hug.

I promise myself that I'm always going to remember this feeling. His strong arms wrapped around me... it feels different than it does when Patrick hugs me. I love both of their hugs, but my dad's... it's like coming home. It's a hug that I've been receiving for my entire life.

"Is there anything that we can do to help you, love?" Mom asks me, placing her hand on my shoulder.

I shake my head, 'no.'

"Okay then. We are going to be in London for the rest of the week, alright Sweetie? Can we see you again?"

"Yeah, of course," I say, pushing hair out of my face. "Just... text me, alright? Can you come to one of my shows, maybe?"

"I'd love nothing more than that," Dad tells me, causing me to smile so big.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too," he replies, kissing my cheek.

A silence falls upon the room before my mom speaks up. "How about we give you two some alone time now, hm? You were just married, after all. I'm sure that you two want nothing more than spending time together."

"Alright," I reply, forcing a small smile.

"We will be in contact. Please, have fun you two."

We all exchange quick goodbyes, and then, they leave the flat.

"Well," Patrick says, turning towards me, "how are you feeling, love?"

"Weird," I admit. "I don't quite know how to react to the whole thing, but... I guess that it's nice to know now, instead of being in fear of what it's going to be that they have to tell me. Does that make any sort of sense?"

"Of course," he says. "Is there anything that I can do to help you? Seriously, all that you have to do is say the word, and I'll do everything that I can to make it happen."

"Thanks," I tell him. "Right now, can we just... talk about literally anything else? I don't really want to think about it anymore."

"Done," Patrick replies, swooping me off of my feet and into his arms. He carries me bridal style into our room, where he sets me on the bed. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"I have a present for you."

"What?" I ask. "Patrick, you didn't have to do that. Oh god, I didn't get you anything..."

"Hey, I didn't expect you to. It's nothing much, but just something sweet and meaningful."

He hands me a small box, and I open it up and gasp. "Patrick... it's beautiful."

Inside, wrapped in dainty tissue paper, is an ornament for our Christmas tree which we have set up in our living room. It has one of our engagement pictures on it, and engraved, our names and our anniversary date.

"You like it?"

"I love it!" I exclaim. "Let's go put it on the tree, right now!"

I grab his hand and hop off of the bed, running down the hall to our living room.

"How about here?" I ask, picking a branch on the fake tree, at about eye level, right next to one of my Taylor Swift ornaments.

"I think," he says, wrapping his arm around my waist, "that it's perfect." He kisses the top of my head as I place the ribbon around the branch.

We share a perfect little moment of silence together, before I hear him saying something, quietly, but clear as day.

"I'm so glad that you're my wife."

I rest my head on his shoulder. "And I'm so glad that you're my husband."