KISSES BEFORE GOODBYE

ESMERALDA’S POV “The result is still the same. You're negative” his voice pierced through my worrisome countenance. I had gone to the hospital for my routine checkup. So I called in sick at work and took a cab to the hospital. This has been my routine for the past fifteen years. When I was little, I knew my mom was always sick. She cried a lot and only smiled when I was around. I remembered how her coffee brown eyes, which were like mine, grew sad and weary. She tied her hair often and had room for many wrinkles on her pale face even though she was so young. Mom had died when I was seven of the same illness that had kept the women in the family under siege. She had told me how her mom had died, leaving her and her sister all alone. I recall witnessing Aunty Mary dying and mommy following shortly. The symptoms usually begin at twenty-two. Then, the diagnosis is preceded by five years of pain and death eventually. I turn twenty-six in a fortnight, and for five years now, I have received the same report from Dr. Nelson after every checkup. “Negative” Though surreal, I had decided to embrace the feeling that I just might have escaped the trend and earned the “freedom” badge. I made a promise to myself to live and feel instead of just existing. As I was leaving the hospital, I picked up my phone and typed a reply to his previous text, which I have been scared to respond to for days. “Yes, I would go to dinner with you” it read. I pressed “send” ignoring the “what if” feeling that throbbed in my heart and made me sick to my stomach Even though I was doing so well for myself, I put conscious effort into not getting invested in anything or anyone. “Life is short” I always said. It wouldn't be fair to be in someone's life and leave abruptly. I was just like a ticking time bomb. Eighteen years later and my life revolved only around me and the living spring hospital north of Savannah. I wanted a relationship, especially, but who was going to date someone who's just waiting to fall ill at any time? If it was going to work, then I probably wouldn't have grown up without a father. Mom told me how he had left when she got the diagnosis two years after I was born. That's part of the reason why I have been avoiding that long overdue date with Kelvin, who came to the diner thrice weekly so that he could catch a glimpse of me. I had decided to nurse my dreams of furthering my education and getting a degree in business at the City University, Ajman. I decided to bring them to full bloom by becoming a front page magazine business owner, to love and to be loved in return and, most importantly, to be happy. The fear of losing everything, including my life in a heartbeat, had held me down for so long, and I was thrilled to break free. I smiled wholeheartedly for the first time in a long while, revealing my diastema. *************************************************** “Thank you for doing this with me” Kelvin cooed as he touched my hand, which was resting on the table. “You earned it. You have been surprisingly patient. It's not a common trait” I blushed as the warmth of his hands erupted the once caged butterflies in my stomach. “You're more than worth it Es, even if I had to wait another year for you to say ‘yes’, I gladly would've” he raised his eyes, and I melted. With tears in my eyes, all I could say was, “thank you for being here, Kelvin, even after shutting you out for a while” “A while you say? I guess eighteen months of consistency finally paid off” he laughed. “Regardless, the pleasure is mine only,” he added, taking my hands and kissing them both. I looked deeply at the man in front of me. His eyes, his voice, everything about him at that moment felt sincere. I was hooked. Kelvin was successfully making my birthday the most memorable one. My day had begun with roses and chocolates alongside the sweetest note ever. Now we were at a beautiful restaurant, on a date….ish. It was everything I wanted and more. The music came on, and I hummed alongside my favourite song “que sera sera” as I brushed a strand of hair from my face. I tried to be as cheerful as I could be for the time being even though my subconscious kept reminding me that I had a reason not to be at ease but I muffled a “whatever” as I shook the feeling off taking kelvin's outstretched hand for a dance. He stared deep into my eyes like he knew me. His big blue eyes calmed the little storm raging within me. I was almost convinced he loved me and wanted me regardless of all that was happening…as if he knew. Suddenly, everything started spinning, including my favourite cream pasta sitting pretty on the table. I grabbed my head with one hand as the other held on to Kelvin. In less than thirty seconds, I was numb, and I couldn't feel anything anymore. It was all darkness, stillness, and quietness, which followed the screams and tugs I was getting. When I woke up, he was there. But I was more concerned about where I was. I tugged my head left from right. “Yeah, hospital,” I observed, noticing the cannula stuck in me? Different thoughts raced through my mind. “I was just at dinner. What the heck am I doing here?” I thundered at the teary-eyed Dr Nelson staring down at me. I had no reason to be afraid, or did I? I had just been cleared two weeks ago. I was scared…terrified actually. My mind trailed back to when I was seven, I remember the fear mom described when they broke the news to her. I remembered my fear when I lost her. I remembered not being able to eat or sleep for days. I remembered…everything. It was just yesterday. I became frantic. I panicked. He held my hands as Dr Nelson tried to calm me down. “You need to relax, Es” he thundered in an unfamiliar tone. I relaxed, sobbing quietly. “We need to talk privately Esmeralda” he turned to me. We both threw a glance at Kelvin who got the message and excused himself. After Kelvin had left, Dr. Nelson shut the door behind him and sat by my bed. “I'm sorry Es…” he hesitated again. “I’m scared, I was cleared not long ago. What could be the problem? What's happening? Please talk to me” I interrupted, throwing all my fears on him. “…according to the results, you've shown early signs of Lymph…” he was about to say before I interrupted him again. “B-bbut doctor, I was cleared two weeks ago. What went wrong?” I stuttered, desperate in need of clarity. He sat there shuddering. Not knowing what to say. “We're going to do more tests to find out. There probably is a trigger. I am so sorry sweetheart” he explained. I had just been diagnosed with lymphoma. My fears have come to reality. It was over. The fight, the extra care, the intentionality to see that I was free of this plight all came down to - nothing. The diagnosis played in my mind like a cruel mantra. I felt myself spiralling into darkness, unsure if I'd ever find my way back.