Silent Goodbyes

In the third year of my marriage to Julian, our quiet life crumbled to pieces. His first love, Vivian, woke up from a five-year coma, instantly taking back all his warmth, devotion, and tenderness. As if fate were playing a cruel joke, I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer at the exact same time. My life was on a rapid countdown. For the days I had left, I kept my illness a secret, pretending everything was fine whenever Julian was around. I quietly watched him pour his entire heart into another woman, letting him neglect and brush me off time and time again. I didn't argue. I didn't scream. I backed away in silence, enduring the agonizing pain and despair all on my own. Until my last breath. It wasn't until three days after I died that Julian finally found the medical report I had hidden away. He held my cold body, sobbing until he broke down completely. But it was far too late. At eight o’clock in the evening, the last dish was brought to the table. I stood on the balcony, looking down at the street. Julian’s car was nowhere to be seen. Mom came out of the kitchen, untying her apron as she asked, "Chloe, has Julian called yet?" "No," I replied softly. Dad put down his newspaper, took off his reading glasses, and stood up. "He’s a surgeon. It’s normal for him to be busy. Still, he works too hard. He needs to rest." I stared up at the bright, round moon in the night sky and said nothing. Julian wasn't busy with surgery. He was staying at the hospital because the woman lying in that VIP room was his first love—the girl he had never gotten over. Just this afternoon, he had called me. Even though he tried his best to contain his excitement, every word trembled with uncontainable joy. He said, "Chloe! Vivian woke up!" Vivian and Julian were high school sweethearts. The night of their senior prom, Julian had confessed his love to her in front of everyone. They were the golden couple everyone envied. Tragically, the day before Vivian was supposed to fly abroad for college, she was hit by a car and slipped into a vegetative state. Julian took care of her devotedly for five long years, right up until she finally opened her eyes today. I had moistened my dry lips and forced a smile over the phone. "Congratulations. After all these years, she finally woke up. Do you want me to come over and visit her?" There was a long pause on the other end. Finally, Julian said, "No, don't. Today is Christmas Eve. You should go spend it with your parents. Besides..." Besides what? Besides the fact that she just woke up, and finding out he was married—seeing me in the flesh—would be too much for her to handle? I didn't ask, and Julian never finished his sentence. In the end, he simply said, "Drive safe. I’ll come pick you up later tonight." A gust of freezing wind slipped through my coat. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself and thought: Julian, you're going to break your promise again tonight, aren't you? Tonight was a night for family reunions. But the only reunion that mattered to him was his with Vivian. "Hey, Chloe, what are you doing standing out there? Come eat! Are you still waiting for Julian?" My younger brother, Toby, strolled out of his room and slung an arm casually over my shoulder, looking as reckless as ever. I smiled, nudging him away, and asked sternly, "Did you get into trouble again?" He scooped a bowl of rice for me, handed me a fork, and grinned shamelessly. "Come on, do I look like a troublemaker?" He really did. Just last month, he ended up at the police station twice and in the ER three times. If Julian hadn't used his connections to pull strings, who knew where Toby would be rotting right now. Mom tapped her fork against her plate, frowning in disapproval. "Can't you wish something good for your brother for once?" With that, she placed a roasted chicken drumstick onto Toby’s plate, put the other one onto Dad’s, and tossed a small chicken wing onto mine. "Julian is busy, so don't hold it against him if he doesn't come home often," Mom nagged, slipping into her usual lecture. "As a wife, you have to be understanding.” “Our whole family has lived comfortably these past few years thanks to him. When your father and I are gone, we’ll still need Julian to look out for Toby..." Listening to her repeat the same old sermon, I quickly forced down two bites of rice and stood up. "Mom, Dad, I'm full." Mom furrowed her brows, looking surprised. "That's all you're eating?" "I have things to take care of. I’m heading home."Dad set down his fork, reached over, and pulled me back toward my seat. "What nonsense is this? You two are always busy with work. You barely sat down, and now you're leaving..." Toby chewed on his drumstick, his mouth full, and interrupted with a teasing grin. "Oh, Dad, Mom, you don't get it! Chloe is just worried about Julian. She’s rushing to the hospital to keep him company!" Hearing that, Dad let go of my arm. "Right, that makes sense. Hospitals are cold and gloomy. It’s good for him to have someone by his side." He told Mom to pack up the leftovers into containers for me to take. When I stepped out of the building, I walked straight to the dumpster and dropped the heavy bag of food inside. Julian didn't need my company. Someone else was already holding his hand. If I showed up, I would only be an unwelcome nuisance. Getting into my car, I pulled a crumpled piece of paper from my purse. I stared at the diagnosis for a long moment, then tore it into shreds. By the time I pulled into the driveway of our house, the windows were completely dark. As expected, Julian would probably spend the night at the hospital. Just as the thought crossed my mind, my phone lit up. It was Julian. I picked it up. His deep, magnetic voice flowed into my ear. "Chloe, I might be home very late tonight. Go to sleep early, okay?" Julian often came home late, but I knew that tonight, it was entirely for Vivian. "Is she not doing well?" I asked. He answered quickly, "She’s having a few minor issues, but nothing serious. Don't worry, Chloe. Get some rest..." "Okay—" The line went dead with a click. He hung up before I could finish my word. I closed my eyes, surrounded by pitch darkness, an overwhelming wave of helplessness washing over me. I wanted so badly to ask Julian just how important Vivian was to him. Important enough that he couldn't even spare two seconds to let me finish a sentence. When I got upstairs, it was already ten o'clock. I stripped off my clothes and sank into the bathtub, trying to recall when our marriage had truly begun. I didn't know how to define a "beginning," but it certainly wasn't the day we signed our marriage license. Exhaustion pulled me under, and I fell asleep in the water. I nearly drowned before strong arms wrapped a towel around me and lifted me onto the bed. The winter chill seeped into the bedroom. I sneezed, and Julian immediately reached over to turn up the heat. When he walked back toward me, his brow was tightly furrowed in frustration. "Are you still a child? You could have died in that tub!" He scolded me while gently running a blow dryer through my hair. I leaned up and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek, blinking playfully to appease him. "Didn't you say you'd be late? I thought you wouldn't be back until one or two in the morning." He pinched my nose and chuckled, asking if I was trying to work him to death. He kept talking, but the loud hum of the hair dryer masked his words. I couldn't hear anything, only watching his lips move. Before we fell asleep, Julian buried his face in the crook of my neck, kissed my skin, and whispered, "I'm sorry." I knew he was apologizing for missing dinner with my parents. I turned over, curled into his arms, and whispered that it was okay. After all, this fragile peace was the best thing we had in our marriage.The next morning, when I woke up, Julian was already in the kitchen cooking breakfast. He was never good at cooking. Usually, I made the meals and he acted as my sous-chef. Why was today so different? I walked into the kitchen and asked, "Do you need any help?" Julian glanced back at me with a soft smile. "No need, it's almost done. Today, your only job is to eat." The breakfast was plain, just like his cooking always was, but a faint warmth blossomed in my chest as I ate. When he got ready to leave, he picked up a thermal lunchbox from the counter. I pointed at it, puzzled. "Didn't you already eat?" "It’s for Vivian," he said casually. "She mentioned she missed my cooking and wanted to taste it again." Julian didn't notice the blood draining from my face. He reached out, gently patted my cheek, and said, "It’s freezing outside. Head back in." I stood on the porch, watching his car disappear down the street. It felt as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water over my head. So that was why he had gotten up so early. That was why he had insisted on cooking himself and refused my help. It was all for Vivian. Julian, in all these years, have you ever done something so thoughtful just for me? I stood in the freezing wind for a long time, until a sharp, tearing migraine ripped through my skull. My vision spun violently, and I stumbled back inside. Maybe because the seasons were shifting, but lately, I had been sleeping constantly, often losing hours at a time. When I woke up again, it was eleven in the morning. I made a few simple dishes that Julian liked, packed them up, and drove to City Hospital. Several nurses at the front desk recognized me and immediately pointed me toward the VIP wing. I walked down the familiar hallway toward Vivian’s room, but when I reached the door, my feet froze. The scene through the window pierced my eyes, making it hard to breathe. Vivian had been asleep for five years, yet time seemed to have paused for her. She looked exactly as radiant as she had five years ago. Her once-pale cheeks were now flushed with healthy color, and her laughing eyes sparkled. Julian was sitting by her bedside, peeling an apple for her, chatting and laughing effortlessly. On the nightstand sat a pastel pink thermal lunchbox. It was a couple’s set with the blue one in my hand. Hers was already empty. She had probably eaten every bite, teasing him, "Julian, after all these years, your cooking still hasn't improved at all..." Tears burned the backs of my eyes. Suffocating on the sob rising in my throat, I turned and rushed toward the nearest restroom. Pain burrowed through my brain like millions of flesh-eating ants. I locked myself in a stall and wept until I could barely breathe. When I finally stepped out, I looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were red and swollen, my skin ghastly pale. I looked like someone on the brink of death. This was going to be my first time officially meeting Vivian. I refused to let her see me looking so pathetic. I quickly touched up my makeup and applied a bright shade of lipstick. When I walked into the room carrying the lunchbox, Julian froze for a moment. "Chloe? What are you doing here?" I lifted the container in my hand. "Did you forget? I bring you lunch every day." Vivian smiled warmly and waved at me from the bed. "You must be Chloe! Come in, please!" She tilted her head. "Julian told me you're two years younger than us. Do you mind if I call you Chloe like he does?" Her tone was effortless and welcoming, as if she were the lady of the house and I was merely a guest.