The House Always Wins (part seven- The End) [Comfort] [Personal Care]

I lost my hair again. I lost weight. I couldn’t eat, my arm burned after every treatment. But I did it, dutifully. Pot was the only thing that helped the nausea enough for me to keep water down. If nothing else, it gave me an excuse to be high day in and day out. Four months out, I was on my third round of treatment. Some new aggressive thing that was supposed to be revolutionary. By some small miracle, the tumors on my liver and lungs shrank down to nothing after my first cycle, but the brain tumors were being stubborn.

I looked like death was sitting at my bedside most days, but I made it to my thirtieth birthday. A milestone that was a month past my expiration date. The old man reached out with a bouquet of roses and a card that said, “The longshot of longshots is up by four…two battles to go before you beat the house.”

The brain tumors were still there after my fourth cycle. Albeit smaller than they had been. Most days I couldn’t even sit up let alone look at my phone to respond to the people going on about their lives with no knowledge of my circumstances. My mother would read messages to me while I lay in bed, curled up around a bed pan for when the waves of nausea became overwhelming.

Today she stopped and said, “Gin…Oh my,” and then completely skipped the rest of the message, moving quickly on to the next.

I looked at her, “What is it?” I asked.

My mom was blushing and shook her head, “It’s not a message I can read to you,” she said softly.

I reached my hand out and she reluctantly put the phone in it with a sigh. I brought it over and read the message with a lot of effort. I was blushing as I looked up at my mom, “He doesn’t know,” I said softly.

I responded quickly: You made my mom blush.

The message was left unanswered on read for a couple of days before he finally responded with: …Why?

I was smiling and my mom lifted my chin up to make me look at her, “You need to tell him.”

“No, I don’t. If he knows, he’ll come to be by my side and it will ruin his marriage for nothing. If I go into remission again…I’ll tell him…if I don’t, then it won’t matter at some point.”

I responded to his question with: I’m not feeling well right now and she’s reading all of my messages to me.

His response was quick and it made me drop my phone: You could have warned me. I’m almost there. I can give your mom a break and read you your messages to you when I get there.

I looked up at my mom, “Did you tell him?”

“No. I don’t have any way of contacting him Janine,” she said.

“Why’s he on his way here then?!” I asked in a panic.

For the first time in weeks I pulled myself out of bed for something other than a doctor’s appointment and looked in the mirror across from my bed. Dark circles, no hair, skin paler than normal, almost grey, actually. My cheeks were sunken in and my normally soft and curvy figure was significantly thinner. I looked back to my mom, “Help me look more normal?” I asked her.

She sat on the bed beside me and took my hands in hers, “Tell him.”

I fought off tears and begged her to help me. She reluctantly sat down with me and helped me get dressed and put makeup on and fixed a wig for me to wear, it looked like my normal hairstyle and color, just shorter. I brushed my teeth and sipped some water. I was settling into a chair with a blanket over me when a knock sounded at the door. Mom opened it and Liam came in with a big hug for her.

I watched him as he looked at me with the same look he had for the first few minutes at the bar the night I showed back up in his life. He came over to me and looked me in the eye, “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” I said, “just not feeling well.”

“No, Gin. You’re crying, why are you crying?” he asked.

I brought my hand up to my cheeks and realized he was right. I hadn’t been able to even make myself cry in over a month, “I’m okay,” I said softly.

He grabbed my hand and looked at it, “Finn gave me the letter you gave him. I just got it a few days ago,” he said softly, “I read it over and over again because something didn’t feel right about it, it wasn’t just a ‘hey sorry for dropping back into your life and encouraging you to cheat on your wife then disappearing one night,’ letter. It was very much a goodbye,” he said.

He stroked my cheek, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?” I responded, still trying to pretend everything was okay.

“Gin,” he said, a slightly incredulous tone to his voice as he narrowed his eyes at me, “don’t play me for a god damned fool.”

I looked at him, “You shouldn’t even be here,” I said, “You’re married. You have a family.”

“I told my wife everything.”

“What? Why? You were happy. Why would you do that?” I asked, pushing him away from me slightly.

He smiled and got up, walked into my bedroom, then came back out with a package of makeup wipes. He knelt down and pulled the wig off of me, though I grabbed his hands to stop him it didn’t take much effort on his part to do what he wanted. I was biting my lip and he opened the package of makeup wipes and started wiping away all of the normalcy my mom had conjured.

Then he pulled the blanket off of me, picked me up, carried me back to my bed, and laid me down. He climbed onto the bed behind me and wrapped his arms around me, “This is why you came to see me all of a sudden?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said softly.

He moved a little bit and reached into his pocket and pulled something out and put it in my hand.

I laughed, “Where did you find this?” I asked as I unwrapped the small ginger hard candy.

“At the airport. I cleaned them out,” he said.

I turned my head towards him, “He told you didn’t he?”

Liam nodded, “I was a little terrified when I came out of work and he was just standing there with his big bodyguard. Even more terrified when he asked me to go for a ride with him.”

“How much did he tell you?” I asked.

“That he’s been keeping up with your treatment. Most of the tumors went away after the first round, but the ones in your head are still there, not really getting any bigger, but not going away either.”

“That has to be breaking some kind of law,” I whined.

Liam just looked at me and I laughed again, “Right,” I said.

My mom came to the bedroom door and looked in on us, “Two laughs is more than I’ve heard from her total in the past five months. I’m going to go for a walk,” she said as she closed the door behind her.

I turned over and looked at Liam as I sucked on the candy, “I can’t do anything sexual with you, you know?” I said.

He nodded, “I don’t expect you to.”

“I never should have dropped back into your life like that,” I said softly.

He lifted my chin and kissed my forehead before he spoke, “I’m really glad you did.”

I fell asleep in his arms after we talked for a few hours.

He was what I needed.

I felt stronger with him around. His divorce papers were served to my house and he signed them and sent them back within hours. I ate for the first time in over a week and kept it down. Mom had a break and he took over my care for another two months.

We were aided by the fact that the old man considered me having beat the odds at six months instead of croaking by the end of four. He paid out and I suddenly had nearly five million dollars to live on and all of my medical debt was mysteriously paid off.

I was four months past my expiration date and Liam was in the doctor’s office with me when my doctor told us the result of the scans on my brain, “They’re gone, Janine,” he said, “There are no discernible tumors anywhere in your body. Your next cycle of treatment is going to be your last as long as your next scan is still clean.”

I almost passed out, “Are you sure?” I asked, “No mix-ups with another patient?”

He shook his head, “No mix-ups. I’d be comfortable saying no evidence of disease in your chart after one more clean scan.”

Liam had to help me out of the office. I couldn’t think straight let alone walk straight. When we got out to the car I looked at him, “I promised the old man I’d go see him if I beat the odds,” I said softly.

“Let’s get through this last treatment and work on getting your strength up. Then I’ll take you back there,” he said.

I nodded, “You know this isn’t a guarantee right? It can come back at any time and it can be worse or not that bad?”

“Gin, one minute, one year, I don’t care as long as they’re with you. I already lost years with you that I can’t get back,” he said as he leaned over and kissed me softly.

When we got home, he carried me inside and laid me down in my bed, “How are you feeling?” He asked.

I smiled and tilted my head, “Fuckable,” I said.

He wagged his finger at me, “Build up strength first.”

I pulled my shirt off and slid my pants and panties off of me, I hadn’t been up to wearing a bra since I started treatment back up, “I haven’t had sex in months,” I said with a pout.

Liam smirked, “Another month or two isn’t going to kill you, Gin. So, is there another reason you’re naked right now or should I put your clothes back on you?” he asked.

“Will you shave me?” I asked him. I hadn’t been up to it for months and I honestly did not feel very appealing with random little patches of thin body hair on me.

He nodded and went to the bathroom to gather supplies. Liam set them up on the bed, spread a towel out for me to sit on. I spread my legs and watched him. He looked at me and ran his fingers over me, the hair on my pussy was thin but not nearly as patchy as everywhere else, he’d only ever seen me clean shaven before.

“Gin, how strong are you feeling right now?” he asked.

I looked at him, “Why?”

He moved the water down on the floor beside the bed and climbed up on the bed with me, kneeling in front of me and lowering his face down to me. I tensed up a little as his tongue slid into me. I spread my legs a little more and leaned back on the bed. He took his time and labored over me, knowing it was going to be difficult to actually get me off, but he still gently and carefully licked me as I squirmed then kissed his way up my body until his lips were on mine. I moaned and he pulled away to look me in the eye, “I love you, Gin,” he said softly as I felt him carefully pushing into me. I hadn’t even noticed him unfastening his pants. His fingers caressed my clit, trying to urge me to an orgasm slowly and gently.

I bit my lip and put my hands on his hips to pull him to me, “I love you, too,” I whispered as he thrust into me.

He kissed me then put his lips to my ear, “Say it again,” he groaned as he gently held me and thrust himself into me.

I moaned and arched my back as he pushed deep and rocked himself against me, “I love you, Liam.”

Liam continued thrusting and kissing me, never speeding up, just gentle and careful movements with the intent of invoking pleasure through connection rather than straight friction. It was slow and I can honestly say it was the most intense and involved sexual experience I can recall having as he grasped my thighs and pulled me up to him slightly. He worked hard to bring me to a height of pleasure I didn’t think I’d be capable of for a while.

He held me to him as he felt me reach my climax, I squirmed in his grip and rocked my hips against him until his grip on me tightened and he came deep inside of me. I laughed and kissed him as he pulled out of me and lay down beside me, pulling me into a tight hug as he kissed my neck and cheek repeatedly, “What happened to me needing to gain some strength first?” I asked.

“I think you took all of mine,” he said as he looked at me. “Did I hurt you?”

I shook my head, “I feel really good, actually,” ignoring the way my body ached and the urge to just curl up and go to sleep.

“What was it that I was I supposed to do for you?” he asked.

“Shave me of the patchy body hair I haven’t been up to dealing with?” I said.

“Right,” he said with a smile.

He pulled the supplies up onto the bed again and carefully and gently shaved me body for me. It was the most like myself I’d felt in months. When he was done he cleaned me up and kissed me as I fell asleep in his arms.

I don’t know what our future holds, but I’m hopeful that it won’t involve any odds to play. Two weeks after my next scan Tracy and Finn are supposed to bring Liam’s kid out to meet me. Some part of me keeps trying to convince me she’s going to try to murder me when she shows up, but honestly? She just seems like a really good, understanding, woman. Apparently she reached out to an old friend of hers as well and rekindled a romance that had ended prematurely when she met Liam, so maybe fate was just toying with all of us.

What happens after that? I don’t know. But at some point I’m going to run out of luck and the house will get its win. Until then, living life to the fullest with my best friend at my side is all I can think about.

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/iallha/the_house_always_wins_part_seven_the_end_comfort