And the worst part? He gave her that. Even if he keeps saying it was for me.
For the fourth time in six months, my twin backed out again.
There was always a reason. Always some new problem. And every single time, Fredrinn stayed glued to her side like she was the one dying.
The first time, she fainted. Said her blood sugar dropped. Fredrinn slept at her hospital for three nights straight. He didn’t come home. He didn’t even bother to text me goodnight.
The second time, she said she couldn’t sleep. Anxiety. Nightmares. Fredrinn sat through her therapy sessions like a loyal husband, holding her hand until morning.
The third time, she suddenly had a fever. That same day, I collapsed during treatment. Nurses were calling his name. He still left. Went straight to her place to take care of her.
And now she wanted something new.
She told him she’d finally donate her bone marrow if he agreed to be her husband for one month.
Just one month.
I was lying on my hospital bed when he told me. My hands were shaking so bad I had to grip the blanket to stop them.