psychvibe » gwendolyn & mildred.
the drive back to their home felt much longer than it took to get to the clinic in the first place. on the way there, the two of them were hopeful and buoyant about the future, and now, on the way back / it has been the most silent and painful experience. of course, when they first received the news that gwendolyn’s cancer was 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭, it was a swift punch to the gut. even swifter, gwendolyn’s life expectancy was about a year. however, mildred plastered on a forced smile out of pure instinct at this point, immediately trying to ease her lover’s fears ( 𝒐𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 ) and telling her that they 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 find a doctor who wasn’t afraid to do their goddamned jobs. telling her that it didn’t matter 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥, that she refused to give up. all the while tears rolled down blotchy, blushed cheeks.
understandably, mildred’s attemps at both comforting and projecting her own feelings were shut down, and mildred just let her thoughts devour her in the silence of the automobile. but she made sure to keep her lover’s hand within her own, the other on the steering wheel, gently rubbing gwen’s knuckles with her thumb / just to offer the smallest amounts of comfort until they arrived home. this wouldn’t be the last time mildred would try and convince gwendolyn to seek out further options, but for now ― 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓.
once they arrived home, mildred already felt as though her chest might explode. thoughts of what life would be like without gwendolyn briggs plagued the entire car ride, and just the 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚄𝙶𝙷𝚃 of it made mildred’s heart physically ache more than ever. opening the front door, the nurse entered after her girlfriend, dropping the car keys into the dish by the door. the emotions in the room practically hung heavy in the air, it almost made it difficult to breathe properly. but still, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞, though her eyes told a truer story, as her blue hues looked into gwen’s. taking a step forward, closing the small distance between them, mildred raised a gentle hand to caress her lover’s warm cheek, “𝚒’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚘 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎, 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚑,” she told her, meanwhile her throat was almost failing her as the emotions bubbled up toward the surface.
her lower lip wavering only slightly as she walked toward the bathroom, she made sure to get all the way inside, close the door and start the bath water before giving in to her grief. she took a heavy seat onto the top of the toilet seat lid, grabbing a towel on her way down. she used it to muffle the sound of heartbroken sobs.
life seems to be offering you one cruel joke after another. if a gun shot wound through the chest wasn’t enough, perhaps a side-serving of cancer would do the job of finishing you off. you feel - numb. the drive home is awkward, a thick tension between mildred and yourself as she drives back. your head rests against the back of the chair, your eyes closed as you try to comprehend the information given to you by the doctor. cancer. it’s one of those things that you hear about but never expect to happen to you. perhaps if you close your eyes, you’ll wake up and it’ll just be a cruel, horrible nightmare. but when you reopen your eyes and you’re back home, you realise that no matter how hard you try . . . you’re going to still have cancer.
you’re silent as you walk into the house, colour drained from your cheeks. you might be sick but you don’t feel sick. you just feel . . . empty. completely and utterly empty. when she mentions a bath, you can’t help but sigh. you’re brought back to reality, pale blue eyes fixing themselves on her. “ i don’t want a bath, mildred. “ you don’t mean to snap at her, but you do. but before she can reply, it seems she’s already gone to draw the bath. maybe relaxing will help ease some of this numbness - maybe the hot water of a bubble bath will ease something. who knows , you certainly don’t.
you feel bad for snapping and after a few minutes you go to the bathroom door, lifting a hand to place a few knocks upon the wood. “ mildred? “ your voice is soft, remorseful. you reach down to twist the doorknob, opening up the door to be met by the steam of a bath, the sound of running water and - sobs. that’s when you kick yourself into shape, you rush towards your partner and you bend onto your knee to take her hands. “ oh, sweetheart. my love. “ you bring her hand to her lips, you kiss her knuckles over and over and over again. “ look at me. “ your other hand lifts to place beneath her chin, tilting it upwards so that she can meet her gaze. “we will get through this. “ you realise now that this is not just your cancer - you don’t have to go through this illness alone . . . you have mildred. “ i promise. i’m so lucky to have you. you know that, don’t you? “
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