“I’ll be fine, Dr. Romano,” she assured me, and I gently placedthe needle in her vein.
I took a seat beside her, crossing my legs and holding her medical file. “Given the rapid progression of the disease,” I said, struggling to keep my emotions in check, “we’ll need to extend the dosage time to an hour instead of thirty minutes. But don’t worry, I’ll be here with you the whole time.”
“Thank you,” she said, reaching out to touch my hand. “I appreciate your kindness.”
“You remind me of my mother,” I whispered. “So full of love and light. I couldn’t save her, but I’ll fight for you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes, and she turned away. “You are like the son I never had. I can’t thank you enough for being here. I don’t know how to tell my daughter… I fear it will be too late when I’m ready.”
I placed a steady hand on her shoulder. “Tell her as soon as you can. You’ve been fighting for months, and I’m doing my best to ensure you get to see her graduate. I know how important that is to you.”
She nodded, her voice breaking. “It is. The good thing is, this medication doesn’t make me feel sluggish every day, and though my hair is thinning, it hasn’t fallen out completely.”
“I chose the least harsh option, but with the increased dosage time, the side effects might intensify.”
“I understand,” she said, reaching for the blanket beside her.
Seeing her struggle, I helped tuck her in, noticing a box of cards under the blanket. “Are these yours?”
She nodded, taking them from my hand. “Yes, I use them to pass the time. I rearrange them or shuffle over and over.”
I pulled a small table over and sat beside her. “Today, we’ll play. What’s your favorite card game?”
She looked at me in disbelief. “I can’t ask you to do that. You’re already doing so much, and you must be incredibly busy.”
“Ms. Leann, what’s your favorite card game?”
“You’re as stubborn as my child,” she said, a hint of a smile breaking through her tears.
“If I weren’t so old, I could probably be your son,” I joked.
“In another lifetime.” She placed a hand on mine. “My favorite card game is Go Fish.”
I took the deck from her and laid out the cards. “Go Fish it is, then.”
For the next hour, we played Go Fish, our conversation moving between the game and the deeper struggles of her life. As she opened up about the hardships she had faced, my heart ached for her. Here was a woman who had never had an easy life, who had sacrificed everything for her child, and now was grappling with this cruel disease.
Despite knowing the high probability of her passing soon, I couldn’t bear the thought of her facing this alone. I had to be by her side. If she couldn’t tell Azzaria, at least she’d die with the notion that there was someone by her side who cared deeply for her.
“I’ll see you in five days for a checkup, then we’ll proceed. Remember to take your vitamins and get plenty of rest because you’ll be tired,” I reminded her gently.
She leaned in to hug me, and a weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying lifted from my shoulders. My mind drifted back to the warmth of myMamma’shugs after a long day at work or the comfort she offered when Papa had been too rough with his punishments. A sense of peace washed over me—one I hadn’t felt since their passing.
Ms. Leann pulled back, tears in her eyes. “I’ll see you in five days.”
By the time I left the hospital, it was six in the evening. My day had been exhausting—leading a practical session with the interns, meetings with my staff, sitting in on a call with Mrs. De Luca’s doctors, where I was relieved to hear she wasprogressing well and had high chances of going into remission, and squeezing in a last-minute appointment for a client who needed a breast ultrasound.
I stopped at Astor Wine & Spirits to pick up a case of Dillon’s favorite scotch—a belated birthday gift. I had planned to head straight home, give him another day, but an unexpected urge to talk to him gnawed at me. Before I knew it, I was taking a detour, steering toward his penthouse instead.
My incessant knocking didn’t seem to work, so I texted him. Finally, I heard the latch click.
“You look like shit,” I remarked, pushing past him into the living room. “I brought this for you.”
“Why are you trying to bribe me?” he asked skeptically.
I sighed, walking over to his couch. “I was in the store, and picked it up because I didn’t get you a birthday gift yesterday,stronzo. Plus, I need to talk to you about two things.”
“I’m not a therapist,” he retorted.
