This put me in a struggle.
That night, I curled up in bed, clutched the property license tightly, burst into tears, and kept blaming myself.
“I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, I'm useless.”
Jonathan rescued me from the mire when I was at my most desperate. Now that he was in trouble, I couldn't leave him behind.
The next day, I sold my mother's house and moved into a rental house with Jonathan.
But the money I got from selling my house was nowhere near enough to pay for Jonathan's treatment.
The pemigatinib tablets would cost forty thousand dollars alone. With all the consulting fees, it was a bottomless pit.
For this reason, I gave up writing and worked three jobs.
I got up early and came home late every day, and I was so exhausted that I was about to pass out. All I wanted was to make a few extra dollars and save up for Jonathan's surgery sooner.
Jonathan went to the hospital alone every time secretly so that I could get some rest after work.
At that time, I just hated that I was incapable of alleviating Jonathan's pain instead.
Now, I felt like a clown, a buffoon to be played with by anyone.
Jonathan wouldn't let me accompany him to the hospital just because he was afraid of revealing himself.