After tasting the cake samples, we decided on a strawberry and cream filling for the wedding cake. It felt wonderful making these decisions together, discussing flavours and decorations for a day that was slowly becoming real.
When the meeting ended, I drove her back to the restaurant.She leaned over and kissed my cheek before getting out of the car.
“See you at home, sweetheart,” I said as she closed the door.
Once she was safely inside, I drove down the road toward the gallery.
As I pulled into the parking lot, my thoughts drifted back to another project I had been working on. I wanted to create a charity event that would invite people from neighbouring towns and the city to attend an exhibition. The money raised would go toward a shelter that supported women and children across Vancouver Island.The project had become deeply personal for me.
I had begun assembling a collection of photographs that celebrated strength and resilience. There were images of women working on farms, flying airplanes, serving as police officers and firefighters. I wanted the exhibition to empower the women who saw themselves reflected in those images.
Alongside the photographs, I had also included some of my landscape and abstract paintings.
The final piece of the exhibition would be the most important one.
A painting of Jiya.
I had been working on it quietly in the evenings, carefully capturing the details of her that had captured my heart long before she ever noticed—the ones that made her uniquely, beautifully Jiya.
Around the painting, I planned to place photographs of her from the day she reopened my wife’s restaurant and changed something inside me forever.
It felt right that the exhibition should end with her.
When I reached the gallery, I stepped inside and greeted Andrea, the young girl at the front desk.
“Hi,” I said quickly. “I’ll be right back.”
A wave of nausea hit me so hard that I barely had time to react.I rushed to the bathroom and leaned over the sink, my stomach turning violently before I threw up.
After a few minutes, the worst of it passed.
I rinsed my mouth and splashed some water on my face.Feeling slightly better, I walked into my office and sank into the chair behind my desk.I rubbed a hand across my stomach, frowning.God… what is going on with my stomach?
A couple of days later,just before leaving for work, I threw up again after breakfast.It came suddenly and violently, leaving me gripping the edge of the sink while my chest burned and my head spun. When it finally passed, I leaned back against the counter, breathing slowly as a dull ache spread across my upper abdomen.
My chest hurt.
I felt dizzy.
This is happening way too often,I thought uneasily.Why am I feeling this way?It made no sense.
I ate home-cooked meals made by Geeta and Jiya. Some days, though, my appetite vanished completely, and I barely managed to eat more than a few bites.Even when I forced myself to exercise at the gym, I left feeling drained instead of energized.
My upper abdomen throbbed again, and I pressed my hand lightly against it. I could feel a swelling there that had not been there before.
“That’s it, we’re going to the hospital to get this checked out,” Jiya said firmly from the kitchen doorway.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and walked into the kitchen.“I’m fine now. I feel better.”
“I understand, but this is not normal,” she said quickly. “You’ve lost weight. A bunch of bruises appear and disappear on your body, and even after giving you home-cooked meals, you’ve not stopped throwing up.”Her words came fast, fueled by worry.“I’m not listening to you anymore,” she continued. “We’re going to the hospital, and there’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”
“I would listen to her if I were you, Dad,” Lucas said casually from the table while munching on his cereal.
I could not help laughing.
“Alright, fine,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “Let’s go.”
At the hospital,the doctor first sent me for blood tests.
