The Red Light I Couldn’t See, The Love That Was Never There Chapter 03
There was a long line at the registration desk.
I had just taken a step forward when my phone lit up.
Lily sent me a picture.
Clouds stretched beneath them from the mountaintop, and she and Ethan were holding up two-finger peace signs.
“Hiking is exhausting, but the view is totally worth it! Too bad you didn’t come!”
Then another video arrived.
I tapped it open.
Ethan was sitting on the ground, mud smeared across his pant legs, looking up at the camera with a grin.
“Lily, give me a hand.”
“Ask nicely.”
“Fine. Please?”
The camera shook as the two of them dissolved into laughter.
I didn’t reply. I locked my phone.
I waited forty minutes before I finally made it into the exam room.
The doctor flipped through my test results and asked casually,
“Where’s your boyfriend? I haven’t seen him with you lately.”
I tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“He had something to do.”
The doctor seemed to sense something and sighed.
“I remember the day you were diagnosed. He was frantic, asking me question after question.”
“Could it be treated? How? What did you need to watch out for? He asked so many questions I was starting to get annoyed.”
I gripped the edge of my shirt until my fingertips turned white.
On the day I was diagnosed, Ethan and Lily had each taken one of my hands.
They said they would help me cross every traffic light from then on.
They said that whether I got better or not, they’d stay by my side and be my eyes.
Back then, I thought they meant it.
Now, it seemed those promises had been nothing more than words they’d tossed out on a whim.
“You’re recovering well. Take your medication on schedule, and you should make a full recovery with a little more time.”
The doctor’s voice pulled me back.
I thanked him, took my medication, and walked out of the hospital.
The sunlight was so harsh I had to squint.
When I passed that intersection, I stopped again.
The traffic lights flashed, but I still couldn’t tell them apart.
That familiar feeling of suffocation rose through me again.
My chest tightened, and my palms grew damp.
Just as I wondered whether I should turn back, someone suddenly took my right hand.
A warm hand closed around mine, and I turned.
Ethan stood beside me, breathing slightly hard.
“I figured I’d find you here.”
He tightened his grip and gently brushed his thumb across the back of my hand.
“I was afraid you’d be scared to cross the street alone, so I came.”
I looked at him, my heart giving a small, painful jolt.
“Come on. I’ll get you across.”
He led me forward, just as he had so many times before.
But when we were almost across, his phone rang.
Ethan pulled it out and glanced at the screen, his brows knitting together.
“You have a fever? How high?”
Whatever he heard on the other end made him stop dead.
“Lie down and don’t move. I’m coming right back!”
He hung up and turned to me.
“Sophie, Lily has a fever. I need to go check on her.”
I looked into his eyes.
“What about me?”
Ethan’s brow furrowed.
“Don’t start this right now. Walking a few blocks by yourself isn’t going to kill you.”
“Lily’s actually sick. I have to go back.”
With that, he turned and ran in the other direction.
I stood there as the warmth in my right palm slowly faded.
At last, I lifted my foot and finished crossing the street alone.
Traffic rushed past behind me, and the sharp blast of a horn cut through the air.
When I reached the bus stop on the other side, I stopped and looked back at the traffic light.
Whether it was red or green, I still couldn’t tell.
But at that moment, I suddenly realized something.
From now on, I wouldn’t need them to help me across at a single traffic light.
