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I stared back at Doctor Monroe with eyes that didn't scream fear. They weren't hate filled . . . not even close to distraught . . . just numb. My voice didn't even sound like mine when I soullessly breathed, "Cancer?" I didn't even feel Ezra's hand as it tighten over mine.
He nodded solemnly, "Stage three lymphoma, Mrs. Fitz. I can't express deeply enough how sorry I am." I nodded slowly. I knew he meant it. Dr. Monroe had delivered me for Christ's sake, he was family. He delivered Violet, Ezra and I's daughter, too. Violet. It wasn't till I pictured her, sitting up to her art table, sketching passionately yet only being three years old that tears sprang to my eyes. I crumpled into Ezra, letting sob after sob rip from my throat. "I just want to go home." I sighed to Dr. Monroe. "We can set up another appointment, discuss treatment, whatever . . . I just want to be home with my daughter right now, please."
He nodded and Ezra all but carried me to our car. I spared a glance at his face, and it shook me just how much he had aged before my eyes in the past hour. "I'm sorry . . ." I sighed shakily.
"What?" he asked me, both confused and disgusted.
I shook my head, taking a sharp breath to stop tears from spilling, "In our vows . . . I promised you a long and happy life with me. I'm sorry that it won't happen."
"Aria stop!" his voice boomed, making me crumple back slightly. He clenched the steering wheel, looking straight ahead. I barely made out him whisper to himself, "I just can't lose you."
"Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!" Violet screeched, running full speed at me as soon as we stepped inside the door.
"Hi, my beautiful girl." I bent down, brushing her thick black locks behind her ears. "Where's Gigi and Bahba?" I smiled down at her. Gigi was Ella and Bahba was Byron, they were just easier for Violet to say. Ezra shut the door behind me, putting out coats in the large seat we had adjacent to the front door.
"Vi, why don't you go draw a picture for mommy?" Her blue eyes shone at the idea of an assignment and she ran off quickly, her curls bouncing behind her. I let out a shaky breath, allowing Ezra to take my hand as we walked to the Den. One of the many pictures along the way was mine and Ezra's wedding picture. In retrospect, it wasn't that long ago. Literally five years. I was only twenty three now and he was twenty eight. I could still remember the day we came 'out'. God it was like it had happened yesterday.
Six years earlier
I glanced at Ella's handmade cookoo clock, my palms as sweaty as Ezra's tumbler of scotch. I'd always hated that clock. When I was little I was convinced the small, screeching bird was possessed by the Icelandic bird-demon Fjord McFlurstenhurgen. Byron and Ella squinted at each other. Ella spoke first, "Not that it isn't lovely to see you, Ezra, but why are you here?"
I held Ezra's hand under the table. "We wanted to talk to you guys about something."
Byron rose his eyebrow, "'We' as in you both . . . together." His gray eyes crinkled, not particularly excited his seventeen year old daughter was holding her former English teacher's hand.
"Yeah . . ." I smiled over at him. He smiled, too. But he looked like he was going to throw up. "Ezra and I are in love."
"What!" Ella cried. "He's your teacher!"
"Was my teacher!" I corrected. "We started dating after he switched to Hollis and . . . well."
"You're pregnant aren't you!" Byron boomed, flinging his chair backwards.
"What!" Ezra and I asked in unison. I stood up quickly rushing to my dad's side. "No, daddy, I promise! Please sit down?" I eased him down into his seat but remained standing. "We all know how I'm going to Columbia in the fall? Well Ezra is going with me and we are moving into an apartment in the lower east side. We just figured it would be much more responsible and mature to include you in this."
Several moments passed before Byron took Ella's hand. "You two really love each other?" we both nodded and he turned to Ezra. "And you're going to take care of my girl?" Ezra smiled, "Absolutely."
Byron nodded, "Well you will be eighteen in three months . . . and it was very considerate of you to inform us versus going off on your own. And we love you so we'll support you."
I let out a girlish squeak, hugging Byron and Ella close before squeezing Ezra's side, deciding to spare my parents watching their kid kiss their friend.
Present
Ella and Byron were cuddled in the loveseat in front of the big screen T.V.
"Mom . . . Dad . . .?" I let out a petrified squeak. They both turned around.
"Sweetie? What's wrong?" Ella rose to her feet and I could tell she knew from my eyes. Something was wrong, indeed. Very, very wrong.
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