The refund for the wedding venue hit Liam’s account. He tugged at his tie, clearly annoyed. Then, a text from him popped up on my phone. “Skylar, what’s with the drama? The hotel said you canceled?” I didn’t reply. Another text immediately followed. “Stop messing around. I’m sorry, okay?” But Liam, I wasn’t messing around. The dead can’t marry the living. Liam pushed the door open, his face etched with fatigue. He paused, startled, when he saw me by the dining table. “Have you eaten? I kept calling, but you didn’t pick up.” I calmly stood, taking his coat. “Sorry, Skylar. Iris just finished her IV. The doctor had to make rounds before I could leave.” He looked at me with an apologetic gaze, dark circles prominent under his bloodshot, exhausted eyes. “Is Iris doing better? I wanted to go see her.” Iris is my older sister, my blood sister. He shook his head. “Same as always.” Then he glanced at me warily. “The doctor said not to let her get agitated.” I nodded. I understood. I wouldn’t go then. As usual, he showered, then reached out, ready to pull me into his arms for sleep. I pretended to be asleep, offering no response. Liam sighed softly, not pushing it. A long while later, I opened my eyes. I walked back to the living room. Liam probably didn’t know, but Iris’s favorite designer perfume, even after his shower, couldn’t hide her scent.
I stared blankly at the two medical reports in my hand. An hour ago, at St. Jude Medical Center. “If we start aggressive treatment now, there’s still a thirty percent chance.” Dr. Evans said regretfully. “You’re still so young. We recommend you try. If possible, bring your family to discuss the treatment plan.” I couldn’t process it. “Dr. Evans.” My throat was terribly hoarse. “How long do I have left?” “My baby… will I get to see my baby born?” Dr. Evans looked at me with pity. “Your situation isn’t optimistic, but there are cases of cancer remission. If your emotional and physical well-being are good, a conservative approach might allow you to carry the baby to term before starting chemotherapy.” I nodded, my body trembling as I thanked her, preparing to leave. “We still strongly advise you to discuss this with your family and proceed with intervention as soon as possible.” The doctor reminded me one last time. My gaze lingered on the words “brain cancer.” God had played a cruel joke on me. My period was late this month, and I secretly went to the hospital, suppressing a flutter of excitement. Just as I wished, I was pregnant with Liam’s baby. But I didn’t get to share the news with him, before another medical report plunged me into hell.
I got home, and Liam still wasn’t back. He’d been so busy lately, busy with work, busy with caring for Iris at the hospital. So busy, he forgot it was my birthday today. I picked up my phone. How was I supposed to tell him? As I hesitated, my phone chimed. “Skylar, don’t wait up for dinner. Still tied up at work. I’ll be back late, go to bed early.” See? We were so in sync. Before I could even tell him, he’d already shut down any chance of us talking. I gave a bitter smile, looking at the dinner I’d prepared and the cake I’d ordered for myself. I still hadn’t told him about the medical tests. The surprise box with the pregnancy test result was hidden away. But then I thought about it, and placed it by his pillow anyway. If he came back before midnight, my birthday wouldn’t be over. “Happy Birthday, Skylar. I’ll always love you.” If he said that. “No, not just me. Us.” I’d throw myself into his arms, surprise box and all. But midnight passed, and Liam still didn’t come home. I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the surprise box. I tried to comfort myself. Work was busy. It’s okay, it’s okay. He’d apologize later, and I’d forgive him. He loved me, I was sure of it.
“Are you an idiot? They’re hitting you, why aren’t you fighting back?” I held the antiseptic and cotton swabs I’d secretly taken from home, clumsily cleaning the boy’s wounds. That was the first time I met Liam. I was only 8 years old then. He wore a faded gray t-shirt, his head bowed. The wounds were deep, but he didn’t make a sound. The neighborhood kids said he was from the orphanage next door. Every Wednesday was an ‘outing day’ for the orphanage kids, a day off from the director to explore outside. “That dummy, he always waits for his mom here. They say he was abandoned right on this spot.” Leo, from next door, told me. Boys are born mischievous, and they’re quick to pick on the weak. Every Wednesday, the kids around the neighborhood would instinctively come to find a sense of superiority over him. “Idiot! Your parents don’t want you, and you’re still waiting.” “This is *my* turf. If you want to hang around, you’ll have to grovel for it, loser!” … He remained motionless, as if automatically blocking them out. Punches and kicks rained down on him. He just hugged his head, silently enduring. I was different. Even though I was a girl, no kid ever dared to bully me. I couldn’t help it; I had a sister with a heart condition. My job was to protect her. Now, my circle of protection included Liam. I chased away the boys around him, and every Wednesday, I waited with him. Finally, one day, he spoke to me. “Liam.” He wrote his name with a stick, utterly serious. “Thank you for protecting me, Skylar.” I looked at him in surprise. I hadn’t told him my name. “I heard them call you that. I’m a boy. From now on, I’ll protect you.”
Before I even entered the hospital room, I could hear Iris’s joyful laughter. “Liam, it’s so adorable!” I pushed the door open. Liam froze, his mouth moving as if to say something. My eyes swept past him, settling gently on Iris, who was clutching a plush toy on her bed. The plushie was adorable, a mischievous little rabbit. It looked a lot like the one Dad bought me. “Iris, I came to see you.” I placed the flowers in the glass vase by her bedside. The atmosphere in the room instantly dropped. “Skylar’s here.” Iris forced a weak smile. I nodded, taking a seat on a nearby stool. Liam stopped what he was doing and offered her a peeled apple. For a moment, the three of us in the room were silent. I looked at Liam. “The hotel called. We need to finalize the wedding venue soon.” He nodded. Iris, beside him, seemed to choke, coughing repeatedly. Liam reacted quickly, patting her back and getting her water with practiced ease. Another long silence. “Iris, Liam, you’re in for a treat today!” Mom pushed the door open, her voice light, but the moment she saw me, her smile froze. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you caused your sister enough trouble already?” She threw the lunchbox onto the table with a bang. “Mom,” I softly called out. “Don’t call me Mom. It’s getting late, and Iris has her IV soon. She’s not like you, spoiled rotten. If you have nothing important to do, you should leave now.” “Ma’am,” Liam started, trying to interject. “Liam, quick, help me open it! I’m starving,” Iris said, laughing. Liam’s words of protest remained unsaid. “Mom, I’ll go then.” I numbly stood up. Just as I reached the door, “Liam, yesterday was my birthday.” *Smack!* The lid of the lunchbox was flung straight at me. Liam rushed over with tissues, his face full of guilt. Grease from the food smeared down my hair and onto my face.
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