Then something else hit me.
Harder than anything before.
“If the surgery happened…”
I swallowed.
“…why am I still here?”
Chloe froze.
My father looked away.
That was enough.
“No,” I whispered.
“No,” I repeated, louder.
“What happened?” I demanded.
Chloe shook her head.
“Tell me!”
“The surgery worked,” she said quickly.
“Then what are you hiding?”
Her hands trembled.
“Chloe.”
She closed her eyes.
“There were complications,” she said.
“What kind of complications?”
She didn’t answer.
My father did.
“For her.”
Everything stopped.
“She almost didn’t make it,” he said.
I looked at Chloe.
“You…”
She gave a small, broken smile.
“I was in recovery for weeks,” she said. “There were moments… they weren’t sure I’d wake up.”
“And I didn’t know.”
“No.”
I ran a hand through my hair, pacing.
“This is insane,” I muttered. “This is actually insane.”
“I know.”
“You gave up everything.”
“Yes.”
“For me.”
She nodded.
“And then you married him.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you leave after?”
That question…
That was the one she couldn’t answer right away.
I saw it.
The hesitation.
The flicker of something deeper.
“It wasn’t that simple,” she said.
“Why not?”
She looked at my father.
Then back at me.
“Because the deal didn’t end with the surgery.”
A chill ran through me.
“What does that mean?”
My father straightened slightly, his expression tightening.
“Chloe,” he warned.
“No,” she said firmly. “He deserves to know everything.”
“Know what?” I asked.
She took a breath.
“The condition wasn’t gone,” she said.
My heart stopped.
“What?”
“The surgery stabilized it,” she continued. “Bought time. But it didn’t cure you.”
The world blurred.
“So what does that mean?”
“It means,” she said slowly, “you’re still living on borrowed time.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“No, that’s not possible.”
“You’ve been monitored ever since,” my father added. “Regular check-ups. Blood work. You just thought they were routine.”
My mind raced.
The doctor visits.
The vague answers.
The reassurances.
“They lied to me.”
“They protected you,” Chloe said.
“No,” I snapped. “They lied.”
Silence.
Then I asked the question I didn’t want to ask.
“How long?”
Neither of them answered immediately.
That told me everything.
“How long do I have?” I repeated.
Chloe’s voice broke completely.
“We don’t know.”
That was worse.
Much worse.
“Months?” I pressed.
