Chapter 5 - THE FIRST TREATMENT
Treatment began four days later.
Emily made me promise one thing.
“No speeches.”
“What speeches?”
“No telling me I’m brave.”
“You are.”
She glared.
I stopped.
“Sorry.”
“I don’t feel brave.”
“Okay.”
“I feel trapped.”
“Then you’re trapped.”
She stared at me.
“That’s terrible encouragement.”
“I’m adapting.”
A faint smile.
That smile carried me through the next eight hours.
The treatment room was quieter than I expected.
No dramatic music.
No cinematic heroism.
Just pumps.
Blankets.
Nurses checking numbers.
A woman across the room doing a crossword puzzle.
An old man sleeping beneath a baseball cap.
Life continuing while medicine entered people’s veins.
Emily became nauseated.
She became tired.
She became furious at the IV pole.
At one point she whispered:
“I hate everybody.”
“Even me?”
“Especially you.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“At least I’m still ranking.”
She laughed.
Then immediately covered her mouth because laughing made her sick.
I apologized for making her laugh.
She told me to shut up.
It was the best conversation we had had in a year.
Two weeks later, the pregnancy crossed into the second trimester.
The heartbeat remained strong.
Emily cried during the ultrasound.
So did I.
The technician asked whether we wanted to know the sex.
Emily looked at me.
I looked at her.
“Yes.”
The technician smiled.
“It’s a girl.”
Emily made a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob.
A daughter.
I imagined pink shoes.
Then immediately hated myself for imagining anything.
Hope still frightened me.
Emily noticed.
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Do what we did last time.”
I knew exactly what she meant.
Do not punish the future because the past hurt.
“What do you want to call her?”
I asked.
“Absolutely not Jack.”
I laughed.
“Jack is a boy’s name.”
“I’m protecting all future possibilities.”
For one minute—
we were simply parents.
Then Dr. Brooks entered.
Her expression changed the room.
The first treatment had slowed the disease.
But not enough.
“We need a stronger response.”
Emily went still.
“What does that mean?”
“It means we may need to intensify treatment.”
“And the baby?”
Dr. Shah answered.
“We will continue monitoring closely.”
Emily looked at me.
I saw fear.
Not because treatment had failed.
May you like
Because for the first time, she had allowed herself to imagine our daughter.
And now there was more to lose.
