This was… unforgivable. The next morning, he packed a bag, leaving a note on the kitchen counter. Need some time to think.
That was it. No goodbye, no apology. Nothing.
I started to pack some of Tyler’s things away. “So, where is he now?” my sister, Audrey, asked when she visited me. “I have no idea,” I said, opening the box of chocolates she had brought.
“I texted his brother to see if he was there, but Kevin said that he hadn’t seen or heard from him.”
“Tell me that you’re not trying to make things work with him, Emily,” Audrey said. “Because I won’t allow it.”
“I’m not,” I said. “It’s just that I want to see him to end this.
I want him to know how much he has hurt and disappointed me. I want him to hear it from my lips.”
Audrey nodded. “Look, whatever happens, I’ve got you.
Our family has you,” she said, smiling. Later that day, while I sat in bed, eating the rest of the chocolates from the box, I scrolled through my phone. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
There, available for the public to see, I saw a post that made my stomach drop. There Tyler was, tagged in a friend’s photo, smiling on the beach with some blonde woman leaning into him, both of them holding cocktails. He looked happy.
The anger, the heartbreak, the reality of his disease… it was all just so overwhelming. But then, somewhere deep inside me, something shifted. I was done crying.
I was done feeling bad. I was done feeling like a victim in my own life. I had no idea what was coming next, but whatever it was, I was going to face it on my terms.
Then, the unexpected happened. A week after Tyler left, my doctor called, sounding flustered and apologetic. “Emily, I’m so sorry.
We’ve made a terrible mistake!” Dr. Duncan said. “What?
What do you mean?” I asked. “It turns out that your test results were mixed up with another patient’s. You’re healthy.
We just need to focus on your calcium levels.”
“What?” I repeated. “You’re okay. You’re better than okay!
