Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
Papa presses a kiss to my forehead before he eases himself into the cab; Mummy sits beside him, brown eyes shiny as she peers up at me. A small flicker of warmth passes through me at their presence, quickly snuffed out before it can grow.
“Maari laali ae ketlu mehnat karyu,”* Papa says for the hundredth time since they arrived for my graduation.
“Thank you,” I murmur, the words catching in my throat. Behind it is the small, sharp thought I shove away: If my body doesn’t respond to treatment, I could be stealing moments from them they’ll never get back. The idea pins me in place like a splinter beneath my skin.
Mummy squeezes Papa’s hand. The cabby slams the door after loading their luggage into the boot, and the sound reins me in.
The sharp clatter contrasts too heavily with the quiet that will later press in at night, making every small noise jolt me in ways I can’t yet prepare for.
I can’t let those thoughts crawl beneath my walls.
Not if I’m going to protect them from this.
“I love you,” I whisper, and they say it back. I shut the door and stand there, waving with a useless, limp arm as the cab pulls away towards the airport. My arm drops. Shoulders sag with mingled relief and regret as their taxi disappears around the bend.
I made it.
Despite everything thrown at me these last three weeks, from the stress ulcer I’m sure to have developed to the ache in the hollows of my chest that I haven’t managed to soothe, I bloody made it.
I got through my graduation with my parents doting and neither of them suspecting that I’ve been keeping a secret.
The thought that I might be saving them months of emotional agony is the small, cold justification that pushes me through the acid rising in my throat from yet another lie.
With my diploma in hand and Embershire Medical University having agreed to defer my placement in the physician associate programme until next autumn, I’m well on my way to kicking this cunt’s ass.
The cunt in question being, well, cancer.
I can’t bring myself to say the word aloud, not even to myself.
It makes it feel less like a shadow and more like the enemy I plan to fight alone.
I’ve decided, for them and for me, that I won’t tell anyone until I’m on the other side, or at least into remission.
Telling them now would only break them, and I can’t bear the idea of them carrying that weight.
My jaw tightens as I breathe shallowly, the subtle pressure echoing the dissociation that has me standing frozen on the porch.
I don’t know how long I stand there, watching the treeline where the cab vanished, until the hinges creak and my flatmate’s soft voice tugs me back.
“Hey, you good?” Letty asks.
I turn, muscles stiff, mouth dry. The sky is dark with boiling clouds, and the humidity presses against my skin; the railing under my hands is slick and cold, grounding me in the moment.
I unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
“Y-yeah. I’ll just miss them, is all.”
Her dark-brown gaze softens, full mauve lips curving gently at the edges.
“Hey, now that we’ve graduated, you can visit them more often,” she says, unknowingly rubbing salt in my wounds.
When I don’t answer, she chuckles softly, waving me inside.
“Come on. Chelsea just finished making brunch. She overdid it, of course, but she wants it to be special since it’s our last family meal with all of us living under the same roof. ”
I clear my throat. “I’ll be in shortly.”
Letty leaves with a nod, gently shutting the door behind her. I take in the warmth and faint aroma of cooked food wafting from the kitchen, a comforting structure in the chaos of my thoughts.
Laughter spills from my lips, and I have to smack a hand over my mouth to contain it, not wanting to encourage my best friends and soon-to-be ex-flatmates’ childish behaviour.
Chelsea—our southern-belle, domestic-mama-bear who feeds people like it’s her love language—and Letty—our warm, sometimes overbearing friend who loves with her whole body and is nosier than any one person has any right to be—are leaning over the kitchen island with a single strand of noodle between their mouths, trying to recreate one of Chelsea’s favourite films from her childhood.
Elise chants, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Her blue eyes are wide with mischief; she’s the chaos of our quartet, rough-edged and unapologetic in the best of ways.
There’s a knock at the door, and Elise hollers at them to come in.
Rafael, our interim coach for the last season of our uni football career and Elise’s new boyfriend, stumbles inside with his teammates, Nakoa and Jelani, their mouths curving into wide grins as they take in the scene before them.
Jelani and Nakoa are big, friendly, and hopeless where Letty and Chelsea are concerned, both of them clearly harbouring crushes: Jelani with his humorous, ridiculous charm aimed at Letty, and Nakoa with his quiet, affectionate teasing that leaves Chelsea blushing.
“Did someone say there was kissing going on in here?” Nakoa asks, waggling his dark brows.
Jelani smacks him on the back, gripping his shoulder with a rough, good-natured squeeze.
“When you ladies get done there, I volunteer to help with the cleanup,” he says, throwing an exaggerated wink at Letty.
She bites off the pasta, breaking the connection with an eyeroll as she slumps back in her seat.
“That’s what napkins are for, Jay,” Letty says, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin as if to prove her point.
Jelani rounds the kitchen island, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of Letty, invading her space as she peers up at him, wide-eyed.
Her back goes rigid, but she makes no effort to move.
As his lips descend upon hers, he quickly turns his face, planting a kiss on her temple before backing away.
She releases an audible breath, turning back to face Elise and me with a dazed expression.
Chelsea cuts through the mounting tension in the room. “Eat up, boys. You’re late, the food is almost cold, and you’ve got warm-ups to get to.”
Nakoa beams at Chelsea before grabbing a plate and piling it high. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Before long, the three massive ruggers are taking up nearly all the space at our small kitchen island, made even smaller by the boxes stacked in the kitchen and living room with all of our belongings.
Without even knowing it, Chelsea and Letty made things easier on me when they sat Elise and me down a couple of weeks ago to let us know they’d decided to move in together in a flat closer to their internships.
With them gone, it made little sense for Elise and me to stay in this big house without them, and seeing as Elise and Rafael have been snogging on every surface, it made sense that she would want to move in with him.
The only complication was getting my overbearing best friends to understand that I’ll very gladly live on my own.
Elise was insistent that I could move in with her and Rafael or with Chelsea and Letty.
I made it known that I have zero interest in overhearing all of the kinky shite that goes on behind closed doors when Rafael and Elise are left to their own devices, and Chelsea and Letty’s new apartment is too far from the clinic I’d been working at.
Not that they need to know I’m no longer going to be working there now that I’m soon to be immunocompromised once I start chemo on Tuesday.
“Looks like you ladies are almost finished packing up,” Nakoa says, stuffing his face with the mess of food piled on his plate. The combination of foods touching makes me queasy; my stomach twists.
“Yeah, not much left. Just have to move it all,” Chelsea groans out.
“We can help!” Nakoa volunteers, his excitement entirely too palpable. It’s manual labour he’s volunteering for, not a bloody blow job. “Right, Jay?”
“Sure can,” Jelani answers with ease.
They’re all so obvious, even I can see it. It feels ridiculous that they haven’t just had a conversation about it by now, but I guess I’m one to talk. I’ve been keeping secrets for weeks and have no plans to the contrary.
“Adhira, are you still looking for a flatmate?” Rafael asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Uh, yeah. I just need someone quiet who’ll mind their own business.”
“Makes sense. I gather it would be difficult to study for your Master’s programme if you had distractions,” Jelani supplies, and I roll with it. A lie by omission is still a lie, yes. But maybe not as damning?
I nod, unable to provide a verbal response with the guilt swirling inside me.
“Are you comfortable with a male flatmate? I may have a friend looking for a new flat.” Rafael pinches the bridge of his nose and grumbles, “And if he’s not, he damn well should be.”
I assume something is wrong with where his friend currently lives, but I won’t ask. It’s none of my business. “I care very little about what's dangling between their legs, or not, for that matter. So long as they’re clean, quiet, and pay their half of the rent, the spare room is fair game.”
Elise points at me with the sharp end of her fork, a noodle dangling from the prongs. “You may not care, but your parents certainly will.”
She’s not wrong. Mummy will have a conniption, and the aunties will lose their minds.
Papa might even try to have me committed and shipped home, but ultimately, they’ll get over it.
My parents have long since given up on trying to control my actions—and knowing it’s driven by fear of losing me only twists the knife deeper.
My whole life, they’ve shifted their views and changed how they’ve parented me to meet my needs so they wouldn’t lose another child, and here I am, keeping secrets from them that threaten to tear me away regardless.
My throat feels thick, and I swallow around the dry lump, pushing my food around on my plate.
“Just like with everything else, they’ll eventually get over it.
So long as I maintain good grades and don’t get pregnant, they shouldn’t have anything to complain about.
” That doesn’t mean they won’t find something, but that’s between them and the universe.
“Alright. I’ll chat with him today and get back to you,” Rafael tells me.
“That’d be great. Thanks,” I murmur, sliding out of my seat and collecting dishes.
“We’d better get going, or Coach Auclair will kick our arses for being late,” Jelani says.
“He’s only a hard-ass when it’s deserved,” Elise comments, always quick to defend her father.
He may be the coach of one of the best rugby teams in the nation, but he’s also a gentle giant.
He’s got a soft spot for the underdog, and so far, he’s had no trouble shaping each of his players into a champion.
“Fair point,” Jelani says, pressing another kiss to the top of Letty’s head, her light-bronze cheeks flushing. He gives Chelsea a kiss on the cheek and says, “Thanks for the fuel, love. One day, you’ll have a Michelin star with those skills.”
“I’d like to think so,” she replies, as everyone helps pack up the leftover food and the guys head out.
When we’re finished in the kitchen, Elise tosses jerseys at us fresh from the dryer, each sporting her last name in support of her father and his team, the Wyvern Warriors.
“Alright, ladies. Be ready in twenty. It’s a home game, and I have no interest in needing binoculars to see the action,” I announce, heading upstairs to change and get ready.
And as I do, it settles in that this is the last time we’ll all be living together like this, and from this day on, I’ll be hiding things from the women who’ve become not only my flatmates, teammates, and friends these last three years, but my sisters.
Each of them brings something different to our friend group that the others lack.
Knowing I may be the weak link that breaks that bond has me sliding down my closed bedroom door, knees drawn to my chest, gulping for air I fear won’t come until my fate is settled.
* “My beloved child has worked so hard.”