Lose You in the Breeze

At a certain private hospital in the city of Harrowdale

"Ms. Clara, it's not too late for chemotherapy. Why don't you talk about this with your family first?" The doctor Albert closed the medical record book with a serious expression.

"I'm very sensitive to pain. Some medicine will be okay," Clara forced a smile, "Can you keep it a secret? I mean, about my health situation."

Clara was thinking, "The doctor suggested I talk with my family but he didn't know I have no family already. After her parents died, she only had Andrew.

Clara held the cold handrail and slowly walked down, thinking if she should tell Andrew about her disease. Her final answer was, NO.

Andrew was no longer the man she knew nine years ago and he hated her. He wouldn't care no matter what Clara said. So Clara was not going to make herself a fool.

Clara stood in front of the hospital. In front of the falling snowflakes, she tightened her scarf, and sighed slightly.

Arriving at a bus stop, Clara took out the paper of her diagnosis, thought for a second, and threw it into the trash can next to her.

Back home, she poured out a handful of red and blue pills and swallowed them with warm water.

The temperature in the room slowly rose, and Clara finally felt warmth. She dialed the number that had long been inscribed in her mind. She called over and over again, and when she tried the eighth time, the phone finally went through.

Clara's eyes lit up in that instant, and her voice became choked, "Andrew, it's... snowing outside."

Andrew listened to her and frowned, "Have you never seen snow? You are twenty-something. Can't you be like a grown-up? I am going to hang up."

Not knowing since when, Andrew didn't like Clare acting like a child. She often called but never said something serious. He was tired of her.

Clara carefully opened her mouth, "Tomorrow is New Year's Day, and I am at home..."

"I am busy," Andrew said and hung up the phone.

Clara listened to the busy signal on the phone and slowly slid down on the cold floor, sobbing with shoulders shaking.

Three years ago, Andrew changed his attitude to her. In the same house, how could she not know?

She didn't want to end this relationship after being with him for nine years.

A week later, Andrew went back home, which Clara didn't expect.

Looking at the man standing at the door, she felt the medicine liquid in her palm turned warm.

But Andrew did not give her a single glance and went straight to the study.

Clara hurriedly put down the medicine, ready to say something to him.

Before she pushed the door, she bumped into Andrew who was holding documents in his hands. Clara froze and did not know how to react.

"Why do you make yourself look so haggard? Are you acting to be sick?" Andrew took a glance at Clara who was struggling to make her thin and weak body stand still with a pale face. He was frowning at her.

Clara noticed his look of annoyance so she blurted out to explain, "No...I went to the hospital to..."

Before she could finish her words, Andrew's phone rang. On the other end of the phone was a female voice saying politely, "Mr. Paul, the banquet is about to start."

"Yes," Andrew said and Clara could sense the gentleness in his voice.

Andrew pushed Clara away and headed out, picking up his briefcase and saying, "Leave your situation to the doctor. I can't deal with your illness," Andrew interrupted her, pushed her away, and left, slamming the door behind him.

Clara, left alone, started murmuring in pain, "I had gone to see the doctor but he said no cure..."

The room was in silence. Clara got no response. Only the sound of the breeze could be heard, like a woman sobbing.