XXVI.
I fondled with the phone on the side table, playing hot potato with it as I turned off speaker and slowly brought the phone to my ear.
“Aussie?”
The voice I hadn’t heard in a week or so vibrated through my ear drum into my brain, and was soon calculated to be Lance’s voice. I leaned far back into a fluffy pillow as I mumbled.
“Hi Lance.”
“Is everything, true? Do you really have cancer? Why didn’t you tell me? Why?”
“Yes it’s true. Yes I have cancer. I didn’t tell you, because I...”
“Didn’t want to see me cry. Still, I wanted to know. I wouldn’t cry if you didn’t want me to. I would have supported you with everything I have; I wouldn’t let you feel lonely. I’ll fight with you.”
“But you’re crying now.”
Lance shook off his tears in semi-disgust. I closed my eyes, sinking even further into my pillow. The strength that had supported me these few days were slowly exiting my body every possible way.
“I’m not crying.”
“Oh sure you aren’t. See, you just broke our promise.”
“I don’t care! Listen where are you now, what hospital are you at?”
I sighed deeply as I closed the phone. Blackness took over me as the grip on my phone loosened, the last thing I remember is my heart rate monitor gradually slowing down, echoing in my pit of endless relief.
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