35. Re（UNITE）d
JAE
35
The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic, and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead did nothing to ease the tension twisting in my gut. I glanced over at Verena, her eyes red and puffy from crying, her thin frame shivering slightly as she held Auntie’s hand.
The door creaked open, and a doctor stepped inside, his expression somber. He carried a clipboard, his eyes meeting mine for a moment before he took a seat across from us.
“Hello,” he began, his voice gentle but firm. “I’m Dr. Patel, the oncologist overseeing Miss Lee’s care. I have some updates regarding her condition.”
Verena squeezed Auntie’s hand tighter, her knuckles white. I placed a reassuring hand on her back, feeling the tension in her muscles.
“Dr. Patel,” I said, my voice rough. “Please, tell us what’s going on.”
Dr. Patel nodded, glancing at his notes. “Miss Lee’s lung cancer has progressed more rapidly than we anticipated. The cancer has metastasized to other parts of her lungs, and we’re now seeing evidence that it’s spreading to her bones as well. This is why she’s been experiencing increased pain and coughing.”
I struggled to keep my composure, focusing on the doctor’s explanation.
“As the cancer progresses,” Dr. Patel continued, “we can expect to see more severe symptoms. This will likely include increased pain, shortness of breath, and significant fatigue. As her lung function decreases, she may require supplemental oxygen.”
“How much time does she have?” Verena asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Dr. Patel hesitated, his eyes full of sympathy. “It’s difficult to say with certainty. Based on her current condition and the rate at which the cancer is progressing, we’re looking at a couple of months, possibly less.”
My world stopped. The air was sucked out of the room, leaving a vacuum of disbelief and impending grief. I felt like a grieving teen again, powerless and lost.
“What can we do to make her comfortable?” I asked, my voice cracking slightly. The usual arrogance, the demanding tone, it was all stripped away in the face of this raw, aching fear.
Dr. Patel’s face softened even more, if that was possible. “We’ll focus on palliative care. Pain management, ensuring she’s as comfortable as possible. We’ll provide emotional support as well, for both her and the family.”
I nodded, trying to process his words. Palliative care. Pain management. Emotional support. It all sounded so clinical, so sterile compared to the vibrant life my aunt had always lived. “Is there…is there any chance at all?” I hated the way my voice wavered, betraying the desperation I felt.
He sighed, looking down at his notes for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Lee. At this stage, our focus is on quality of life, not cure. We want to make her remaining time as peaceful and pain-free as possible.”
My fists clenched, nails digging into my palms. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I built an empire, conquered a world of steel and glass, but I couldn’t do a damn thing to save her. The helplessness was infuriating.
“Thank you, Dr. Patel,” I said, my voice hardening slightly as I tried to regain some semblance of control. “I appreciate your honesty.”
He nodded, his expression a blend of professionalism and empathy.
Auntie squeezed Verena’s hand weakly, her voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You’re not a burden,” Verena insisted, her voice shaky. “We’re here for you, Auntie. Every step of the way.”
Dr. Patel offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll work together to ensure she’s as comfortable as possible. If you have any questions or need support, don’t hesitate to reach out to us. We’re here to help.”
I knelt beside Auntie and grabbed her hand, feeling the frailty in her once strong grip. She looked at me, her eyes filled with sorrow and regret. “I must have scared you,” she said softly in Korean.
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
“I’m so sorry, sweet boy,” Auntie continued, her voice trembling with emotion. “I thought I had more time.”
The words pierced through me, tearing down the walls I had built to keep my emotions in check. Tears blurred my vision, making everything around me hazy and indistinct. I felt them spill over, warm and relentless, running down my cheeks. Auntie had always been my rock, the pillar of strength in my life. She was the one who held me when my parents died, who whispered soothing words and wiped away my tears. She was the one who never made me be strong when the situation demanded vulnerability, always letting me know it was okay to feel, to grieve, to be human.
I knelt beside her hospital bed, grasping her frail hand in mine, and felt the weight of her love and the impending loss crushing my chest. “Auntie, I…”
She squeezed my hand gently, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You’ve always been so strong, Jae. Strong for everyone else, but you don’t have to be strong for me right now. It’s okay to let go.”
The lump in my throat grew tighter, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. I bowed my head, the tears falling freely now, mingling with the memories of every time she had been there for me, every moment she had been my sanctuary. “I don’t want to lose you,” I whispered, my voice cracking.
As I knelt there, holding Auntie’s frail hand, a memory surfaced, vivid and poignant. I was six years old, visiting her in Korea for a couple of weeks in the summer. There was a spider in the house. It wasn’t particularly big or threatening, but to my young eyes, it was a monster. I cried out for Auntie, and she came rushing in, concern etched on her face. When she saw the source of my distress, she didn’t laugh or scold me. Instead, she grabbed a cup and a napkin, gently coaxing the spider into the cup and carrying it outside. She let it walk away, her movements calm and reassuring.
“See, Jae,” she had said, her voice soothing, “everything deserves a chance to live.”
Now, I wished for that same mercy for her. Cancer was not merciful. It was cruel, unrelenting, and it didn’t care about fairness or kindness. It didn’t care about how much life Auntie still had left to live or how many moments she still wanted to share. It was a thief in the night, stealing away the vibrant essence of someone I loved, leaving me to grapple with the truth of her mortality.
Now, facing the harsh reality of Auntie’s illness, I wished I could find a cup and a napkin, something to make this all more merciful for her. I wished for a way to take her pain and fear and let them walk away, just as she had done with that spider all those years ago.
“I want the two of you to get married before I go,” she said, her voice breaking.
I cried harder, the weight of her words crushing me. Memories of my parents’ funeral flooded my mind, the way everyone told me to be strong, to be a man, while Auntie had swatted them away and held me as I sobbed.
“I’m sorry,” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”
She squeezed my hand gently. “Jae,” she began, her voice firmer now. “I know you’re not really dating.” She spoke in Korean now, so Verena couldn’t understand.
My gaze snapped to her, eyes wide in shock.
Auntie smirked, a glint of mischief in her tired eyes. “I’m smarter than I look. I know you’re doing this for me. But you know what? I know you really love her. I know you’ve loved her for a while. I was hoping I had more time for the two of you to figure this out and fall in love for real. So I need you to approach this like you do every problem. Convince her of what you and I already know. You are meant to be together. I want a wedding, Jae. I want to leave this world knowing you are taken care of.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “Auntie, I?—”
She cut me off, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. “Jae, you are the type of man who doesn’t settle, who always goes after what he wants. You have to do this.”
Her words were like a challenge, one I couldn’t refuse. “But, Auntie, what if?—”
“No ‘what ifs,’ Jae. When you wanted your business to make a billion in five years, you made it happen. When you wanted to be valedictorian, you made it happen. You want Verena, now make it happen.”
I blinked. Auntie had always seen through me, understood the drive that fueled me. She had been there for every major milestone, cheering me on, pushing me to be my best. Now, she was asking me to fight for the one thing I wanted most, the one thing I hadn’t allowed myself to fully acknowledge until now.
“You really think I can do this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Auntie’s eyes softened, and she smiled. “I know you can. You’re Jae Lee. There’s nothing you can’t do when you set your mind to it.”
I nodded, the determination building within me. “We will get married next week, Auntie,” I said, switching to English for Verena’s sake.
Verena gasped, her eyes wide with shock. “If it’s what Auntie wants,” she forced out, her voice shaky.
I looked at Verena with pleading eyes, hoping she could see the sincerity in mine. Auntie knew the truth, and now it was up to me to make Verena see it too. I had to juggle this debilitating grief and give the only family I had left her dying wish. And I had to make the woman I loved finally see that I’ve loved her for years.
As we all sat there, I knew one thing for certain: Verena was it for me. I just had to make her see it too.