Love, Chemo, and Other Inconveniences
Language: en
On the day of high school graduation, in front of the entire class, I slapped a stack of cash onto Christian's chest. "I've had my fun. We're done." He bent down, picking up the bills one by one from the floor. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "Okay." Summer ended. Christian boarded a train to Harvard Med. I flew to Switzerland to start a grueling round of chemo. Years later, I was back in the States, lying in a hospital bed, bald from the treatment. I was busy scrolling through wigs on my phone when the door opened. Christian, wearing a white coat, walked in. Our eyes met.