I’d gotten that far myself. I shrug. ‘And now what?’
‘We could ask Sonora, but I don’t think you can surgically remove fear.’ June’s gaze drifts to the window and loses itself somewhere in the clouds in the sky. ‘We need the right pill.’
‘Even if I had it, he probably wouldn’t swallow it voluntarily.’ A sigh escapes my mouth. ‘He has to want it, on his own, but how do I get him to that point?’ Yesterday in the park I tried everything; I have no idea what else I could say.
June sucks in her lower lip. ‘When kids don’t want to take their medicine, you hide it in pudding.’
I let myself fall back onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. ‘I already tried that by giving him Lilly’s list.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I see June step up to the window. ‘Maybe it just takes a little while for the pill to work?’
‘Twenty-two hours and…’ I check the time on my phone—no messages, of course not—’…eighteen minutes.’ If he wanted to keep going with Lilly’s dreams or get examined, he would have gotten in touch by now. ‘It should have kicked in long ago.’
I stare at the ceiling as if the solution were hiding up there.
‘What if you grant him his wish?’ June asks softly into the silence between us.
‘Would you do that?’ Could she? Give up the man she loves, who means the world to her, who has given her so much? No. She couldn’t, and we both know that. That’s probably why she doesn’t answer.
She would fight until there is nothing left to fight for. And I won’t do anything else either, at least as far as one thing is concerned.
‘He has to agree to the examination. If it turns out that his prognosis is poor, then…’ I can’t bring myself to say what would then be inevitable. Nevertheless, I wonder what will happen if he refuses treatment once he knows his diagnosis and the odds.
He is a competent adult who may not be treated against his will.
Could I really go with him, wherever he wants to go? Stay with him and share crazy, beautiful, and unforgettable experiences with him until he can’t anymore?
Is that love? Accepting the other person’s wishes even though you think they’re wrong? Not wanting to change the other person, even when it’s a matter of life and death? Letting go when the other person doesn’t want to be held on to?
I turn my head and see June standing by the window, withdrawn into herself. With her fingertips, she is touching the leaves of my mini orchid.
When Olive gave it to me, I didn’t want to have it. My worry was too great that I would never see it bloom, because my cancer might come back and bring me to my knees again.
I was afraid to dream of a future that might never come. Afraid of the disappointment. Nevertheless, the little plant now sits on my windowsill, laden with tiny white-and-yellow blossoms, with rich dark green leaves and strong roots.
It is living proof of how wrong all the advice was that my fear whispered to me for so long.
If Jaden could see this plant the way I see it now, with everything it means, then he would understand too: Life isn’t always just about risks – the ones we take and the ones we don’t – or about what we lose in the process. Every day, things happen in this world that no one sees coming. Nothing is guaranteed.In the end, it’s about seeing the chances too. About hoping, trusting, dreaming.
About living.
Wait a second.
I jerk upright, my gaze still fixed on the orchid. ‘I think I know.’
‘Hm?’ June says absently.
Excitement spreads through me, a glorious tingling in my arms, my legs, my stomach.
I spring up from the bed and run over to June. ‘I know what medicine he needs.’
I have her attention at once. ‘What kind?’
‘Not some pill you can’t force down his throat, but something that helps against denying reality.’ My God, why didn’t I think of it sooner.
‘But how is that supposed to solve his underlying problem?’ Her brows draw together. ‘You’d only be treating the symptom, his illness would still be there.’
‘It’s like a virus.’ You can’t treat that either, you can only ease the symptoms and leave the healing to time.