CHAPTER 3
682 Words
It’s three days to my surgery, and my body seemed to be cooperating.
I felt lighter, strangely energetic, almost full of life. The doctors called it progress, but at the back of my mind, I still called it borrowed time.
Dialysis sessions shortened. The dizziness faded. I took my food and medications without complaint. For the first time in months, my body stopped fighting me.
Everyone seemed relieved. My father visited several times, and their smiles all shared the same message: as if my survival had already been assured, as if the surgery had already succeeded.
Stefan, however, came every day. Sometimes with food, sometimes with coffee he barely touched, sometimes with video games.
He didn’t hover like the doctors or fuss like my family. He didn’t ask how I felt every few minutes. He simply sat beside me, scrolling through his phone or reviewing documents, as if being there required no effort at all. It made me painfully aware of myself.
That afternoon, he was focused on his MacBook when he finally broke the silence.
“Do you feel any discomfort anywhere?”
I turned to him.
“You’ve been gripping the hem of your hospital gown a little tightly. You good?”
“Oh, yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”
Honestly, I wasn’t. I needed to pee.
Silence settled again. Then my phone rang — Kylie.
“Hey, sis. I’m at your favorite bakery. Want anything?”
“Their velvet cake, fruit parfait, and homemade yogurt,” I replied. “Thanks.”
“Got it. I’ll be there soon.”
I dropped the phone beside me, staring at the ceiling. Stefan stood and quietly stepped out. Moments later, a nurse arrived.
“Didn’t I just finish my last dialysis session?” I asked.
“She said you seemed uncomfortable,” the nurse said with a knowing smile. “Your… boyfriend asked me to check on you.”
My chest warmed. He noticed.
“Oh he’s not my boyfriend”. I replied my eyes refusing to meet hers.
“I need to use the restroom,” I admitted.
The nurse chuckled and helped me. A few minutes later, Stefan returned.
“You good now?”
“Yes. Thank you,” I said, shyly.
He smiled faintly.
“Do you remember senior year?” he asked. “You always sat by the window during lunch, pretending to read.”
“I was actually reading,” I replied.
“No, you weren’t,” he said, stifling laughter. “Your book was upside down most of the time. You were just watching people.”
Heat crept up my cheeks. He noticed. I thought nobody ever did.
“You disappeared after graduation,” I said softly. “I almost thought something happened.”
He paused. “I didn’t really have much of a choice back then.”
His words hung uneasily in the air, shifting something between us.
A few minutes later, Kylie returned with desserts.
“Hey sis. Oh, hi Stefan.”
“Hi, Kylie,” he said.
We ate and chatted briefly before she left, leaving the room quiet again.
“Don’t you need to go to the company?” I asked.
“Do you want me to go?”
I stayed silent.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said, smiling.
Later, a nurse came in with my chart.
“There’s a slight change in your medication schedule,” she said politely.
“I don’t remember requesting it. Is something wrong?”
“Oh, your donor requested it.”
Your donor. The words felt heavier than they should have.
I turned to Stefan.
“I thought it would be easier on your body. You’ve been through enough already.”
I wasn’t fully comfortable, but I nodded anyway. Arguing felt ungrateful. He was giving me a kidney. My life now existed because of his sacrifice.
That night, alone in my ward, I stared at the sterile ceiling. I imagined a future where I was healthy, where survival was possible. But for the first time since hope arrived, it felt… conditional.
- Writer
