"Oh, no thanks! I don’t want to stay up all night. A good night’s sleep is the foundation of a healthy life." Dr. Robertson laughed. "Try this one, they said it's their most popular one."
He handed me a small spoon. I took it, scooped a piece and tasted it.
"Not bad," I said, though pain roiled in my stomach. I was used to it by now.
I stared at the pretty cake while wondering how to begin the conversation.
Dr. Robertson had been my psychologist for the past six months. The first time I went to his office, I was so far gone that I could barely string a sentence together. He sat with me in silence for hours, then drove me home. At that time, Jack was leaving in a mission for almost half a year. I was alone, like an island about to be swallowed by the sea.
I didn’t dare burden him with my struggles. However, when faced with the choice between life and death, I chose not to break his heart.
I was afraid he would come home from his mission and find my cold, lifeless body. I wasn’t afraid to die. It was just I was afraid of making Jack sad.
How pathetic was that, right?