“How long have you been throwing up?” the doctor asked.
“It’s been a while,” I replied quietly.
“Have you had stomach aches, nausea, bruising that stays longer than normal, or weight loss?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
“All of them.”
Dr. Mitchell sighed softly.
“We’ll wait for the biopsy results to determine the stage,” he said. “There are a few options we can try in the meantime.”
His voice continued, explaining treatment possibilities, but the words blurred together in my mind.
I could still feel Jiya’s hand holding mine tightly, but my thoughts had shut down.
How could this happen to me?How could this happen now when everything in my life has finally settled?How could it all fall apart like this?
“Don’t worry,” Jiya said, pulling me back to the present.
I turned toward her.
Her eyes were glossy with tears, and her lips trembled slightly, but her grip on my hand remained strong.
“We’re going to beat it,” she said.Her voice shook, yet the determination in it was unambiguous.“We’re going to beat this.”
I looked at her, my chest tightening.
How could this happen now?
Now, when I had finally found love again.
Now, when I had finally found a reason to live.
How could I do this to her after everything she had already been through?
The next day,I sat silently in the passenger seat while Jiya drove us to another hospital in a different town.
Neither of us spoke much during the drive.
The quiet inside the car felt suffocating.
I kept my eyes fixed on the passing landscape outside the window, watching trees and houses blur together while my mind struggled to accept what was happening.
We were going for a second opinion.
I desperately hoped that the first doctor had made a mistake.
But when the tests were repeated and the second doctor studied the results, he came to the same diagnosis.
Liver cancer.
The words felt like slow cracks forming in glass, breaking my heart piece by piece.
On the drive back home, I stared straight ahead while Jiya kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel.
