Chapter 9 - THE NIGHT SHE THOUGHT THE CANCER WAS WINNING
In June, Natalie's fever began at 8:43 P.M.
At first, she thought the apartment was too warm.
Then the chills came.
Rebecca had gone upstairs to take a shower, and Natalie was sitting in the living room when she realized her hands were shaking.
She checked her temperature.
Then checked it again.
Her oncology team had given her clear instructions about fever during chemotherapy.
She knew it could be urgent.
She called the after-hours number immediately.
Within minutes, the medical team directed her to seek emergency evaluation.
She didn't argue.
Didn't wait until morning.
Didn't try to sleep it off.
She called Rebecca.
“Can you take me to the hospital?”
Rebecca was downstairs almost before Natalie finished speaking.
Ethan arrived at the emergency department after Rebecca called him.
He found his sister in the waiting area, clutching a handbag.
“How is she?”
“Being evaluated.”
He nodded.
“Did they say anything?”
“They're checking for infection and other possible causes.”
Ethan sat beside her.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then Rebecca looked at him.
“You care about her.”
He stared at the floor.
“Yes.”
“More than as a friend?”
He hesitated.
“Yes.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Does she know?”
“I haven't told her.”
“Why?”
Ethan looked toward the treatment area.
“Because she has enough to deal with.”
Rebecca studied him.
“Don't decide what she can handle without asking her.”
He looked at his sister.
She continued.
“You can care about someone without demanding an answer. But you can't protect her by keeping your feelings secret forever.”
Ethan nodded slowly.
“I know.”
Natalie spent several days in the hospital.
The doctors treated the immediate problem and monitored her closely.
She felt frightened in a way she hadn't felt since her diagnosis.
For months, she'd been trying to imagine the life she'd build after treatment.
Now she wondered whether she'd ever reach it.
On the second night, Ethan visited.
He brought no flowers.
No extravagant gift.
Just a small paperback novel and a handwritten note from Rebecca.
Natalie smiled weakly.
“You came.”
He sat beside her.
“Of course.”
She looked at him.
“It's late.”
“I know.”
“Don't you have work?”
“I finished.”
She stared at the novel.
“I'm tired of being sick.”
Ethan's expression softened.
“I believe you.”
“I hate the hospital smell.”
He nodded.
“I hate not recognizing myself.”
He remained quiet.
“And sometimes,” she whispered, “I'm afraid I won't get better.”
Ethan leaned forward.
“That sounds terrifying.”
Tears filled her eyes.
She had expected him to say she was strong.
That she would beat cancer.
That everything would work out.
Instead, he'd allowed her to be afraid without correcting her.
Natalie began crying.
Ethan waited.
Then quietly asked, “Would you like me to stay for a while?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
He settled into the chair.
And stayed until the nurse came to check her observations.
On the third afternoon, Natalie asked him a question.
“Why are you doing this?”
Ethan looked up from his book.
“Doing what?”
“Showing up.”
He considered the question.
“Because I care about you.”
She looked away.
“People say that.”
“I know.”
“And sometimes they leave anyway.”
Ethan closed his book.
“Yes,” he said. “Sometimes they do.”
She looked at him.
He continued.
“I can't promise life will never change. I can't promise I'll always know the right thing to say.”
He paused.
“But I can make a decision about today.”
Natalie swallowed.
“And today?”
“Today, I wanted to be here.”
She began crying again.
But this time, her tears were different.
They weren't only about fear.
They were also about realizing that someone could choose her without being reminded.
A week later, Natalie returned to Rebecca's house.
Her treatment schedule required further discussion after the hospital stay, and Dr. Shah reviewed the safest way forward.
Natalie felt discouraged.
Another complication.
Another delay.
Another reason the future seemed distant.
That evening, she opened her notebook.
On the first page, she'd written something months earlier.
Things I'll Do If I Get Better.
She stared at the heading.
Then crossed out if.
She wrote:
Things I Want to Do With the Life I Have.
Beneath it, she listed three things.
Return to meaningful work.
See the Atlantic Ocean again.
Stop apologizing for needing people.
She looked at the list.
May you like
Then added one more.
Learn how to trust happiness.
