“It’s not fucking okay! How can it be?” He jabs his finger at the scan, glaring at it like it’s his worst enemy and he wants to strangle it with his bare hands. “You’re dying! Tell me in what universe can that possibly be okay?”
I open my mouth, but shut it soon after. I understand what he’s feeling. I felt it the moment he told me his fate.
“This is bullshit!” He doesn’t allow either Dr. Carter or myself time to console him. He storms from the room.
Dr. Carter sighs, running a hand down his weary face. “I’ll have Wilma schedule a follow-up appointment.”
“Why?”
“There may be something else we can do,” he replies, stumped. We both know that we’ve exhausted my options. It’s the end of the line. I’m surprisingly calmer than I thought I would be. But I guess the same news delivered the second time around softens the blow.
“No, I’m done. If there’s nothing you think you can do, then I want to live however long I have clearheaded and not doped up.”
He nods, understanding my request.
Swallowing, I ask the question we all want to know in a morbid sort of way. “How long?”
I don’t envy Dr. Carter. His job would have to be one of the hardest in the world. “I don’t know…one month, maybe two.”
Wow. I stand with my mouth parted, my mind reeling over everything Dr. Carter has said.
“That’s just a guess, judging from the scans. We can always run some tests, but…I really am sorry.” Still standing motionless, Dr. Carter does something he’s not done before. He hugs me.
I am stunned for so many different reasons, but being embraced by the man who hardly shows any emotion has a tear cascading down my cheek. I have touched someone who has touched me. We go through life hoping to make an impact, and I’ve managed to accomplish that with a man I respect, admire, and treasure. I can leave this room with a smile on my face.
“I better go find Roman.” I sheepishly pull from his embrace. “Thank you again. I really appreciate it. You were so good to Georgia and me. I know she thanks you, too.”
Dr. Carter nods, and I bite my cheek. Is this the last time I’ll ever see him? He must be able to read my thoughts because he suddenly turns his back, but not before I see a tear catch on his lashes.
I don’t make a fuss. I simply grab my clothes and leave.
After changing in the bathroom, I calmly press the call button, peering down at my steady hands. They’ll never grow wrinkled, nor will they ever nurture the kin from my womb. This outer shell will be immortalized in time. This is how people will remember me—forever young.
The elevator doors open, and I ride it down to the main foyer. I exit, my steps not wavering, my head held high. I finally feel free. I haven’t been delivered a death sentence. I’ve been given yet another chance to live.
Stepping out of the revolving doors, I see Roman sitting on a park bench, head downturned, legs spread apart. His hands are interlaced low, as if he’s praying to whichever god may be listening. I know he will most likely bite my head off, but he needs to know I’m okay with this. I told him I would accept the results, whatever they were. With the good comes the bad, but it’s the bad that makes you appreciate and cherish the good.
“I come in peace.” Lifting his head, I see the bitter sadness behind his eyes. I stop a few steps away, unsure if he wants me to leave. “May I sit?”
He runs a hand through his snarled hair, so many emotions plaguing him. “You never have to ask permission to be near me.”
I wring my hands behind my back. “I know, but you left in a huff. And I’m not sure if you’re still huffy.” I’m trying to lighten the mood. I can’t stand to see him in pain, in pain because of me. I almost holler in delight when he shuffles over to make room.
I don’t know how to start a conversation like this one. There is no easy way. Everything has changed, and I don’t know what happens now.
“There has to be something more,” he says, breaking the silence. I can’t help but compare our pleas.
“I went into this knowing the risks. It was never a sure thing.”