Emma balled up the chocolate wrapper and threw it. It landed in her trash bin. “Score,” I said, and she smiled.
I turned on my side to face her, and she did the same. “These pregnancy rumors are proof that people are starting to notice my illness. I can’t hide it forever. I need to come out with the truth.”
“You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Fuck everyone else.”
“It’s not like I’m ashamed of it.” Emma breathed a sigh. “But the Arcanea world can be so cruel. The fae are ruthless. If people found out I was sick, they’d use it against me.”
“Then turn it into a weapon,” I said. “Use your disease against others instead of using it against yourself. There’s no need to hide anymore.”
“There shouldn’t be a reason to hide in the first place,” she growled as Tygrys flew above us. He scattered pixie dust everywhere by the beating of his wings. “I’m not ashamed of who or what I am.”
The pixie dust fell like glitter, coating Emma’s eyelashes and hair with gold. “The fae world can be cruel. It doesn’t like people who are different. But change doesn’t happen unless people like us start demanding it,” I said.
I brushed her leg lightly with my prosthetic. Emma softened. “I don’t care much if I’m not accepted. But I at least want to accept myself.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s clear to see my body is changing because of the medicine. It’s making me gain weight. My body doesn’t look like my own anymore,” Emma said in frustration. “And not just the medicine, but the disease as a whole. It’s more difficult to breathe, and some days, it’s hard just to walk down the hall without getting winded. It’s like I’m losing pieces of myself bit by bit, and it’s hard, because I’m not even old. I’m young. I’m not supposed to feel like this. It’s killing me to be a grandma in a twenty-year-old’s body.”
“You shouldn’t worry. All that matters is that you’re alive.” It was the most important piece of her to me— her survival. I wouldn’t compromise it for anything, not even my own life.
“I am worried about it, Ethan. I’ve been an athlete my whole life, and now, my body is doing things I can’t understand or control. I used to have so much energy. I never used to get sick. Now a day doesn’t pass by where I’m not tired or ill.” She bit her lip nervously. “I don’t want the judges to notice. They expect a certain body type on the ice, and those that don’t fit the perception get lower points.”
“Don’t go down the same path Odette did. Skating’s not worth it.” Emma couldn’t get an eating disorder— with how sick she was already, something like that would surely kill her.
“I won’t end up like Odette. But win or lose the podium, I still want to keep skating. I want to keep those experiences in my life,” she said firmly. “But this disease I have… it changes everything. It changes how much I sleep, how much I eat… how I feel, how tired I am, hell, even what kind of mood I’m in. I hate that how much I can do alters on a day to day basis. It never stays consistent, and I’m left scrambling to try and keep up.”
“Have you asked Stefan’s mom for help?” She was Emma’s immunologist. Maybe she could fix this.
“I’ve talked to my doctor, and she says I’m doing everything I can. It doesn’t matter what I do to stop it. I can’t help it. My disease is turning my body into a vessel I don’t know. I stare into the mirror somedays, and I don’t know who’s looking back, because this body is one that I don’t recognize.” Emma’s voice was so torn, it nearly broke me.
“I don’t care what you look like, or what your body can or can’t do. No matter what, you’ll always be my Emma.” I reached up and brushed her hair back.
Emma blinked. “I just wish something in my life remained consistent. Even if it was just you and me.”
“Everything changes, onawilke. You’re doing your best. That’s all that counts.”
Emma nestled closer. Her head lay on my shoulder, and I wrapped my arms around her.
We shouldn’t be doing this. We weren’t a couple. But we did anyway, because who knew what tomorrow would bring.