Perfection in an imperfect world
Perfect.
Everything is gonna be perfect. Or at least that's what I want.
When I remember the words that escaped his mouth, all I can do is cry.
-There's no hope, Edward. She's got one year left, perhaps less.
Then I remember why we're here.
The sunlight peeks through the small window, lightly projecting light on the vanilla-colored walls.
I clench my fists. Something is not right. She has been in that room two hours now. Something is going on, although I want everything to be perfect. She lost our baby, but we recovered. Our love is stronger now. After everything we have been through, we deserve a little happiness, at least.
I stand up and look through the window. The sun is shining brightly, although it is November. In the yard, there's a pear tree and a small doghouse, even though Esme doesn't have any dogs.
I look at the furniture now. Brown wooden chairs, a red sofa and white cupboards. Everything is warm toned. It makes you feel comfortable, safe, despite the fact that being here means that you aren't safe, or comfortable.
Then they come out. Her eyes are red, swollen. She has been crying. Panic runs throughout my body, something bad happens. Esme looks at me. Her eyes tell me I'm right. But there's something more on Esme's eyes. Pain.
And she speaks.
-Darling. Are you okay? I hope so.-a little smile forms in her lips, but it doesn't reach her eyes.-I have to tell you something. May we seat?
We seat in the sofa. There is tension in the air. I don't feel safe here anymore.
-You know I lost the baby. You know any doctor could know why, don't you?
-Yes. That was weird. Anyone could tell why she died, she was healthy. But you know now, don't you? That's why you ask me.
-Yes I do. And I'm afraid you won't like the answer. It's not that I like it, but at least I know it wasn't my fault.
-What happens, Bella? What aren't you telling me?
She starts crying, tears rolling down her cheeks.
-I'm sorry.-and she hugs me.-I've got cancer.
I experience different sensations. Fear. Pain. And although it sounds weird, relieve.
-Oh. Well, you scared me. I thought it was something worse. Now there are a lot of women who suffer from breast cancer and recover.
She cries louder this time, sobbing.
-Oh, you don't understand. I didn't say it was breast cancer.
I look in her eyes. Her deep brown eyes aren't happy anymore, like they used to be. They're red, swollen and they aren't deep now. They're plain dead.
And then I realize. It hits me like a ton of bricks. It overwhelms me. My hands start shaking and I cry too.
-This can't be possible. After everything we've done, after everything we have been through, this can't be happening.
-But it is. It's happening. But I don't want you to cry. If you aren't strong, then we're lost.
-I'm dead without you. If you aren't with me, what do I have left?
-Don't be such a drama queen. I won't die. We won't die.-and she touches her belly as she says this. I look in her eyes and then at her belly. She follows my gaze and smiles. Hope in her eyes, joy in her tears.
-I'm pregnant, honey.
-Esme, is there anything you can do? Does she have possibilities?
-Edward, honey. I don't know that. It's extended. She's got five, six months left. Eight if she's lucky. Maybe I'm wrong. You should talk to Carlisle; he knows cancer better than I do. He'll tell you if there are possibilities for her.
-Bella, how long have you been pregnant?
-Esme says 11 weeks. Edward, look at me.-I do as she says- If I pass out, take care of our child. Love him or her, like you have done with me, and my death won't be in vain.
-Bella, pleaseā¦
-Just promise you'll do it. I am not pessimist. But I want to have everything under control.
-Okay. I promise.
And I kiss her. Deeply. Showing her that she's all that matters. Showing her that she's all that will ever matter to me.
She's having surgery now. Carlisle said it was our only opportunity. So we decided to try. After two hours, he came and said that something was not okay, so they wanted her to have the baby, in order to save Bella Jr.
I wanted them to save them both. But deep inside, I know it's not possible. She might be dead by now.
I consider suicide, but then I remember the promise and the hope and happiness in her eyes, so I reject the idea.
I wait two hours more and a nurse comes with the baby in her arms. She hands her to me.
I take the baby in my arms and look at her. She's small, chubby and has little coppery hair like mine. But what catches my breath and sight is her eyes. They're brown. Like her mother's.
Babies are supposed to have blue eyes when they're born, but they're brown. The same chocolate brown eyes that made me fall in love after I lost all hope in loving again.
I smile while tears run through my cheeks. Emotion runs through my veins. Bella isn't dead after all. Her best features, her eyes, are still alive.
She touches my face with her small hands and smiles, showing her toothless mouth.
I'm so lost in her, showing her all the love I already have for her, that I don't notice the doctor coming to me, with a smile in his face.
-She's alright. It was hard, but everything is perfect.
-I know. She's perfect. She's got her eyes.
-Oh, I see Carlisle didn't tell you. - A small laugh escapes through his wide smile.
-What didn't he tell me? - I ask, nervously.
-She's alive. It was hard, but there's no more cancer. We removed all of it. She lost a part of her liver, but it'll grow again. She's unconscious but she'll wake up soon, and I'm sure she'll want you to be there.
All I can do is cry. I remember our tough times, where all hope was gone. I remember how Carlisle said there was no hope, how my world seemed to turn black, no light in the sky for me. I remember how she recovered from depression and I smile.
I remember our wedding, how we met, our dates. I remember our happy times. The day the gynecologist told us she was pregnant, the smile in her full lips when I kneeled down and asked her to marry me. There's hope again. There will be more of those great times.
I enter her room and smile. After surgery, after giving birth, she still looks stunning. Her brown long locks are sweaty, tangled and messy. Her skin has some yellowy glow to it, but still looks silky and moisturized.
She opens her eyes. Her lashes flutter while her eyes adjust to the white light of the hospital room. And then her eyes focus in me and in the baby I'm carrying, a lazy smile growing in her face.
-Perfect. Everything looks perfect now. Our life is going to be perfect.
And our baby sighs, like she knows her mommy's right.
I smile too. She's right, and I can't help it but be happy.
