Mary’s health was delicately cascading towards an ominous abyss, with doctors warning that without surgical intervention this week, the gravest of outcomes may imminently unfurl. Prolonged comas enveloped her, and each lucid interval between them, she would whisper Andrew’s name with an aching tenderness. Embroiled in a torrid tempest, Andrew traversed to and fro for a physician who could weave the healing she needed.
For several moonlit nights, slumber evaded him, leaving Andrew almost as pallid and weary as someone grappling with a dire malady. As he nibbled on bread and egg, the television flickered with the news of Agnes facing a potential decade behind bars for all the hostility she had wrought.
On-screen, Agnes displayed no remorse. Instead, her smile exuded a defiant arrogance, as if mockingly challenging both legalities and public opinion. Andrew’s fists clenched a visceral desire to extinguish her insolence igniting within him.
Suddenly, an epiphany struck him. Agnes’s current husband, though not an oncologist but he was a renowned physician. This fragile connection presented a desperate opportunity, and Andrew hastily sought him out.
Stepping into Tom’s office, he was taken aback by its stark simplicity, startlingly contrasting Agnes’s ostentatious lifestyle. A bewildering thought grazed his mind – how could these two disparate souls ever coalesce into a union?
Upon seeing Andrew, Tom, perhaps intuitively, discerned the purpose of his visit. He invited Andrew to sit, gracefully preparing a cup of coffee for his unexpected guest.
“Please, have some coffee. It’s all I have to offer; I hope it’s to your liking,” Tom offered gently.
Andrew accepted, his words draping a poignant shroud over the room, “It’s fine. I often drink coffee, for its bitterness mingling with the sugar’s sweetness inadvertently crafts a flavor symbolic of life’s inherent essence.”
Tom chuckled warmly, “As an artist, your soul carries a romantic resonance.”
Andrew, veering away from pleasantries, drove directly into the heart of his anguish.
“My girlfriend is grappling with a brain tumor and relentlessly deteriorating health. You’re an exceptional doctor; you could be her salvation.”
“Do you think I might refuse, considering the past marital ties between Agnes and me?”
Andrew paused, marinating in his thoughts before responding with candid vulnerability.
“Everything began with my vengeance and mistakes. Mary is innocent, and Agnes is not entirely at fault. Had I not intentionally entangled her, perhaps her life would tread a different path.”
“Can you recount everything to me? Only with the story’s entirety might I determine whether I can assist you.”
Within the tranquil ambiance of the office, the two men conversed, Tom’s gaze occasionally drifting into a distant empathy and understanding. He sometimes diverted his eyes, intentionally shrouding his innermost thoughts from Andrew’s perception.
Every individual endures a tapestry of joys and sorrows, yet perhaps the tragedy ensnaring these souls had transcended their capacities to bear. Tom recalled his father’s words, “Live in such a way that the more you are older, the more you find your happiness flourishing.”
Andrew bared his soul entirely to a stranger for the first time, not wishing to conceal a single detail. For him, rescuing Mary was a purpose for which he would do anything.
Suddenly, Andrew stepped forward, collapsing to his knees before Tom in a plea that left the latter oscillating between astonishment and discomfort. Tom, unfamiliar with the kind of woman Mary might be, realized that it must take an immense and fiery love to make a man so humbly prostrate himself before another.
“What are you doing?”
“I implore you to save her. I know you are a good man. You surely cannot stand idly by while a patient slowly withers away without taking action. I am ready to meet any conditions you set,” Andrew’s words cascaded sincerely, his long-suppressed emotions now tumbling forth, touching Tom’s heart in their torrent.
“You have to keep your word. I detest being deceived above all else in this life,” Tom calmly approached his desk, voicing his thoughts serenely.
“This disease is not within my expertise, but I can introduce you to a colleague who is a leading expert in treating this condition. Rest assured, I will not let you down.”
Hope ignited within Andrew, bringing joy to his heart. So, there was still a chance for Mary to continue living.
Joy stood at the airport a year later, waiting to welcome Andrew and Mary back home after their overseas treatment. As they met, euphoria beyond words enveloped them. More beautiful than ever, Mary clung tightly to Joy, her eyes brimming with tears, resembling a reunion with a beloved family member after a prolonged separation.
“I’ve missed you so much, you’ve become thinner, are you well…?”
Joy waved her hand, beaming a signal for her to stop.
“If you ask so many questions, how will I answer them all in time? Could you give me a twirl? You grow younger each day, probably thanks to this gentleman’s diligent care.”
Mary cast a knowing glance in the direction where Joy was squinting, immediately deciphering her unspoken thoughts.
“Fate has scripted this, dear sister.”
Their chatter flowed like a bubbling brook, utterly oblivious that Andrew stood amid their whimsical bubble until his somewhat strangled voice eventually punctured it.
“Shall we head home? Once there, we can talk through three days and nights if you wish.”
Andrew’s thoughts drifted towards Agnes. Upon his return to the homeland, he had visited her in the prison, intending to unveil the truths that Tom never did and to fulfill the promises he had extended to him.
Agnes, stepping into the visitor’s room and catching sight of Andrew, spun on her heels, but his voice halted her, a gentle inquiry lingering in the air.
“It’s been a while. Are you holding up okay?”
Agnes tilted her head skyward, a bitter smile breaking through. Her visage of sadness sharpened into something keener, fiercer.
“Why ask what you’re equipped to understand, Andrew? Did you come here today to prod me into a rage?”
“Stubborn as ever, and ever in pursuit of victory,” he observed.
“Wouldn’t you want to be?”
Andrew’s eyes, steady and unyielding, met Agnes’s as he murmured, “That’s a relic of my past. I’ve learned to traverse life at a gentler pace, care, and understand.”
“What, in the end, brings you to me today?”
Noting her impatience, Andrew unfurled the story without hesitation.
“Tom has returned home. He asked me to convey his apologies, for it was he who caused the accident and he who had your face surgically altered to mirror his late wife’s.”
Agnes froze, struck by the revelation that she had been no but a stand-in for a haunting past. A serrating pain jolted through her, intending to tear her soul asunder. Despite using him for her nefarious deeds, she had always believed that if the whole world turned its back on her, Tom would still stand steadfastly beside her, for she was the one he loved most.
“Haha!”
“Scum! How dare he treat me like this. I thought Tom didn’t visit because he felt guilty for not being able to help me escape this hellish place, but it turns out…”
“Filth!”
Agnesy’s roar, a maelstrom of fury and indignation, seemed to desire to set the room ablaze.
“There’s one more thing…”
“More? Perhaps how splendidly happy you and Mary are?”
In the face of Agnes’s sarcastic venom, Andrew gently replied.
“Tom wanted me to forgive you. When you get out, we can still maintain a friendship.”
“He can keep his concerns to himself. Get out!”
“Why are you angry? I’ll keep my promises.”
“Leave! Get out now!”
Agnes seemed on the brink of madness, shrieking, wrecking what she could, straining against her cuffs in vain. Her future spread out before her, a vast expanse of stifling darkness.
Life consists of days of joy and sorrow, happiness and suffering. And it only indeed halts when our journey through it does.