Letting you go [COMPLETE]

Chapter 22

Unedited.

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The next day, I'm still crying tears of joy. Sitting in Doctor Catherine's office, I wring my hands together, still allowing the tears to fall.

Four years. For long years.

And we're finally on the waiting list. It doesn't mean that I'll actually get the transplant anytime soon, but the what ifs are endless. Two new lungs. Done properly, it can take away the cancer all together—though it's highly unlikely, since there is no cure. Done, incorrectly it can be fatal. Already one of my lungs is useless so replacing that won't affect anything. The other one, however, can be fatal if not done correctly.

               After the new lungs, there still may be cancer in my lymph nodes. But, if it hasn't spread far—which I highly doubt after six years—, the amount of cancer cells can be limited and located after the transfer. Then chemotherapy can kill the cells and the cancer will disappear.

               Of course, though, that's probably not going to happen. I'm just not that lucky.

               Still, I can hope.

               The door opens behind me and I turn to see Catherine walking in. She smiles at me apologetically, holding up two cups of water. "Sorry. I didn't mean to keep you waiting. I just had to duck out to get a drink." Sitting behind her desk, she takes a seat. "So, how are you?"

               "Good," I answer.

               It has to be at least a month since the last therapy session. Staring at her now, I can't find the anger and resentment I once had for her. It's personal for her; she's not just looking for a laugh from dying children.

               "What's been going on?" she asks, holding out a plastic cup of water. She ignores the tears, pretending as if she doesn't even see them. I'm grateful for it

               Taking it, I smile gratefully, shifting from foot to foot in the chair. Despite the fact that I'm okay with being here, the idea of therapy still makes me antsy. "A lot."

               "A lot? Any of it exciting?"

               Shrugging, I can't help but think about the kiss. Yesterday, at the city, there had been a round three. While we'd been sitting in the middle of the dinosaur exhibit, watching a slide show of them all, he'd leaned over and kissed me. It hadn't included any tongue—and I doubted I'd ever let it get that far. The idea of it wasn't appealing at all.

               It hadn't been a long one, but it had been just as sweet. Just as perfect.

               "All of it has been great. Really great. I'm waiting for my luck to run out though," I say honestly, because it's the truth. Everything has been going way too right.

               "Why are you waiting for that? You deserve some good luck," Catherine says quietly.

               "I don't feel like it," I mutter. "Whenever something goes right, there's always something bad that follows. It's been great though."

James has been great, specifically.

               After the news of the acceptance on the waiting list, the rest of the car ride had been filled with silence. Well, silence apart from the tears I'd cried. James had wrapped his arms around my shoulders, letting me cry onto him. Eventually, he'd asked why and I'd told him. Then he'd just held me tighter.