Over a month after I regained consciousness, Lily was constantly by my side. She took care of me with an intensity bordering on obsession—feeding me, accompanying me to the bathroom, nearly helping me undress.
Eager to recover, I felt overwhelmed by her attentiveness. One day, while Lily was out of the room, I attempted to use the bathroom alone, confident I could manage.
But as I exited, my legs suddenly gave way, and I fell, hitting my face against the sink and bleeding profusely.
As I struggled to stand, I inadvertently pulled off the cloth covering the mirror and confronted a ghastly reflection.
Sean burst in and swept me into his arms, shielding me from my own reflection.
His voice was low and harsh as he cursed, "I was just out paying a bill. Where the hell did Lily go? Absolutely useless!"
I couldn't push him away. Frowning, I interrupted him, "Don't speak ill of Lily in front of me. I don't want to hear it. She has her own life, family, and job. Unlike me, she's not idle and acting as burdens to others."
Sean fell silent. He gathered numerous tissues to dab at the blood on my face, his eyes reddening as he worked.
Attempting a calm tone, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me sooner about your illness? What's the use of having a mouth if you don't use it? You could have recovered, Annie. Why did you insist on toughing it out until it got this bad?"
I replied calmly, "Because I don't need you. I don't need your care or your company. Whether or not you knew about my illness doesn't matter to me."
In truth, I never intentionally hid my illness from Sean. My medical reports were always on the table, plainly visible if only he'd looked. But he never did.
As I lost my weight due to illness, Zoey appeared at his side— younger, more attractive, more likable. For her, Sean began spending entire nights away from home.
Thus, he never witnessed my numerous collapses, my cries of pain, the fear-driven calls to doctors. He lifted me back onto the hospital bed, and as he bent over, a tear fell onto my face.
"Yeah, Annie, you’re right all the time. Dismissing me on a whim, turning your back, ridiculing me: telling me to get lost whenever it suits you," he said mockingly. "I get it; you don't need me."
After a long pause, his voice breaking, he continued, "But, Annie, I need you." I remained silent, closed my eyes, and pretended to sleep.
