I hated hospitals\u2014the long lines, the sick people, the endless coughing and sneezing. But more than anything, I hated hospitals because of the memories they brought back.<\/p>\n
Painful memories. I could still see my mother lying in a hospital bed, her strength fading with each passing day.<\/p>\n
I had been just a little girl, helpless, unable to do anything but watch as she slipped away.<\/p>\n
I shook my head, forcing the thoughts aside. This was just a routine check-up after recovering from the flu.<\/p>\n
Nothing more. I sat in the waiting room, restless, counting the seconds until my name was called. Then, a man sat down beside me.<\/p>\n
I glanced at him\u2014and froze. His eyes were the most beautiful I had ever seen.<\/p>\n
He noticed me staring and lifted an eyebrow, his lips curving into the hint of a smile.<\/p>\n
“Oh, I\u2019m sorry,” I blurted out. “You have such beautiful eyes. I got lost in them.”<\/p>\n
My hands flew to my face. My cheeks burned. Why had I said that out loud?<\/p>\n
“I don\u2019t know why I said that,” I mumbled into my palms, squeezing my eyes shut. Maybe if I didn\u2019t look at him, the moment would pass.<\/p>\n
Silence. Then a chuckle. I peeked through my fingers. He was smiling. His eyes\u2014those same beautiful eyes\u2014sparkled with amusement.<\/p>\n
“No one has ever flirted with me in a hospital before,” he said, his voice light.<\/p>\n
“That wasn\u2019t flirting!” I protested, shaking my head. “You really do have beautiful eyes.”<\/p>\n
“Still sounds like flirting,” he said, his grin widening.<\/p>\n
I groaned. “I swear, I wasn\u2019t trying to.”<\/p>\n
He held out a hand. “Paul.”<\/p>\n
I hesitated for only a second before shaking it. “Linda.”<\/p>\n
His grip was warm, firm. I felt something flutter in my chest.<\/p>\n
“So, what brings you here, Linda?” Paul asked.<\/p>\n
“Just a check-up after the flu,” I said. “You?”<\/p>\n
“Picking up some test results,” he said.<\/p>\n
A pause. I hesitated, then asked, “Anything serious?”<\/p>\n
He shook his head. “Illnesses tend to stay away from me,” he said with a grin.<\/p>\n
I smiled. I wanted to stay, to keep talking. But just then, a nurse called my name.<\/p>\n
“Looks like it\u2019s my turn,” I said. “It was nice meeting you.”<\/p>\n
Paul glanced around, grabbed a magazine, and tore out a page.<\/p>\n
“What are you doing?” I asked, laughing.<\/p>\n
He scribbled something, then handed it to me. “I really wish that had been flirting,” he said. “Guess I\u2019ll have to take matters into my own hands.”<\/p>\n
I looked down. His phone number.<\/p>\n
A smile spread across my face. “I\u2019ll call,” I said.<\/p>\n
“I\u2019ll be waiting,” he replied.<\/p>\n
“Good luck with your results,” I said, standing up.<\/p>\n
“I\u2019m immortal,” Paul said with a wink.<\/p>\n
I laughed as I walked into the doctor\u2019s office, my heart still racing.<\/p>\n
I wanted to be the kind of woman who played it cool, who waited a few days before calling.<\/p>\n
But I couldn\u2019t stop thinking about Paul\u2014his smile, his laugh, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke. By the time evening rolled around, I gave in and dialed his number.<\/p>\n
He picked up on the first ring. “I was starting to think you wouldn\u2019t call,” he teased.<\/p>\n
“I almost didn\u2019t,” I admitted. “But here we are.”<\/p>\n
“Here we are,” he echoed, his voice warm.<\/p>\n
That phone call led to our first date. Then another. And another. With each one, I fell harder.<\/p>\n
Paul had a way of making me feel special, like I was the only person in the world. He listened when I talked.<\/p>\n
He made me laugh until my sides ached. I had never felt so understood, so wanted. He always knew when I needed coffee, when I was cold, when I was tired.<\/p>\n
After a few dates, we stopped pretending it wasn\u2019t serious. We were together. And from the very first date, I knew\u2014Paul was the man I wanted forever.<\/p>\n
Months passed. Our relationship grew deeper, stronger. One evening, we were lying on my couch, his arms wrapped around me.<\/p>\n
The sound of his heartbeat filled the quiet room. I traced small circles on his chest, my thoughts racing. My heart was so full it ached. If I didn\u2019t tell him how I felt, I might burst.<\/p>\n
“Paul,” I said softly, my heart pounding.<\/p>\n
“Yes, honey?” he replied, his voice warm.<\/p>\n
I hesitated, taking a deep breath. “I have something to tell you.”<\/p>\n
Paul raised an eyebrow, a playful smile on his lips. “Oh no, am I in trouble?”<\/p>\n
“Depends on how you look at it,” I said, meeting his gaze. His beautiful eyes searched mine. I could see a flicker of nervousness.<\/p>\n
I reached for his hand, holding it tight. “I love you, Paul,” I said. “I love you more than I\u2019ve ever loved anyone.”<\/p>\n
His smile grew wide. His fingers brushed my cheek.<\/p>\n
“And why would that be a problem?” he asked.<\/p>\n
“Because now you\u2019re stuck with me,” I said. “Forever.”<\/p>\n
Paul let out a soft laugh. “That sounds perfect to me,” he said. He pulled me closer and kissed me. “I love you too,” he whispered. “More than anything.”<\/p>\n
That night, wrapped in his arms, I felt like the happiest woman alive.<\/p>\n
But happiness can be fragile. And mine was about to break.<\/p>\n
Less than a week after we confessed our love, Paul vanished from my life. He stopped answering my calls, ignored my texts.<\/p>\n
At first, I thought he was busy. But as hours turned into days, worry clawed at my chest. I called him again and again, my fingers trembling each time. Nothing.<\/p>\n
Panic set in. I imagined him hurt, lying in a hospital bed, alone. Maybe he had been in an accident.<\/p>\n
Maybe something terrible had happened. I was seconds from calling hospitals, maybe even the police, when my phone buzzed.<\/p>\n
@Paul<\/p>\n
I\u2019m fine. But I need you to stop calling and texting me.<\/p>\n
I stared at the screen, my heart racing.<\/p>\n
@Me<\/p>\n
Are you joking? Where have you been all this time???<\/p>\n
@Paul<\/p>\n
It doesn\u2019t matter. Just stop texting me.<\/p>\n
@Me<\/p>\n
Can you at least explain?<\/p>\n
@Paul<\/p>\n
I don\u2019t love you. I lied. I don\u2019t want you in my life.<\/p>\n
The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. My hands shook as I read them over and over. I tried calling again. Straight to voicemail. I tried again. Blocked.<\/p>\n
I sat frozen, tears spilling onto my lap. The man I loved had thrown me away like I was nothing.<\/p>\n
He had lied to me, used me, made me believe we had something real. I cried every day.<\/p>\n
Then, weeks later, I found it. A note tucked inside my drawer. My breath caught as I unfolded it, recognizing Paul\u2019s handwriting.<\/p>\n
I hope you find this note when you\u2019re feeling sad. I love you, Linda, and I always will. I hope this makes you feel a little better \ud83d\ude42<\/p>\n
Tears blurred my vision. If he never loved me, why would he write this?<\/p>\n
I needed answers. I grabbed my keys and drove straight to his place.<\/p>\n
I banged on his door, shouting his name. The neighbors peeked out, frowning. I didn\u2019t care. I wasn\u2019t leaving without the truth.<\/p>\n
Finally, the door opened.<\/p>\n
A man stood in front of me\u2014thin, weak, almost unrecognizable. His skin was pale, his cheeks hollow. My heart pounded. Then I looked into his eyes.<\/p>\n
It was Paul. My Paul.<\/p>\n
His expression was unreadable. “What are you doing here?” His voice was rough, barely above a whisper.<\/p>\n
I reached out, my fingers grazing his cheek. His skin was warm but fragile, like he might break. “What happened to you?” I whispered.<\/p>\n
Paul took a small step back. “It doesn\u2019t matter. Please, go.”<\/p>\n
I shook my head. “I\u2019m not leaving! I deserve the truth!” My voice cracked.<\/p>\n
His hands clenched into fists. “I\u2019m dying!” he shouted.<\/p>\n
The words hit me like ice. “What?” My legs felt weak.<\/p>\n
Paul sighed and stepped aside. “Come in.”<\/p>\n
I walked in, my breath shallow. The apartment was dim, lifeless. I turned to him. “Tell me.”<\/p>\n
He lowered himself onto the couch. “I have cancer. I\u2019m dying.”<\/p>\n
I gripped the edge of a chair, my body trembling. “How long have you known?”<\/p>\n
His eyes met mine. “Since the day we met.”<\/p>\n
I swallowed hard. “How could you keep that from me? That\u2019s so selfish!” Anger and pain clashed inside me.<\/p>\n
Paul ran a hand through his thinning hair. “The doctors thought treatment would work. I believed them. But it\u2019s not working. It\u2019s getting worse. I didn\u2019t want you to go through this again. Not after your mom.” His voice wavered. “That\u2019s why I pushed you away.”<\/p>\n
Tears blurred my vision. “But you did hurt me. You lied. You told me you didn\u2019t love me!”<\/p>\n
Paul\u2019s face twisted in pain. “I\u2019m sorry,” he whispered.<\/p>\n
“How long?” I asked, my voice shaking.<\/p>\n
“A week. Maybe days,” he said, tears slipping down his face.<\/p>\n
I gasped. “Oh God, Paul,” I whispered. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.<\/p>\n
He held me close. “I\u2019m sorry,” he said again. “I love you, Linda.”<\/p>\n
“You should have told me,” I said, my voice breaking. “I should have been there.”<\/p>\n
Paul pressed his forehead to mine. “You already gave me more happiness than I ever deserved.”<\/p>\n
That night, Paul lay in my arms, calling himself an idiot, saying that just being near me made him feel better.<\/p>\n
His voice was weak, his body frail, but he still tried to smile. I held him close, whispering over and over, “I love you, Paul. I love you so much.”<\/p>\n
His fingers curled around mine, his grip light. His breathing slowed, becoming softer, quieter. Then, it stopped.<\/p>\n
I heard his last breath. And with it, a part of me died too. The room felt empty. Cold. I held him, unable to let go.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I hated hospitals\u2014the long lines, the sick people, the endless coughing and sneezing. But more than anything, I hated hospitals because of the memories they brought back. Painful memories. I could still see my mother lying in a hospital bed, her strength fading with each passing day. I had been just a little girl, helpless, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":7508,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7507","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-tales"],"yoast_head":"\n