Fix You

It started out innocent enough: night sweats and a sore throat—nothing we hadn’t dealt with before. I gave you that god-awful purple liquid every night before you went to bed and you always told me you felt better in the morning. That lasted a week before I finally dragged you, kicking and screaming, to the doctor. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he told me it was more complicated than he’d originally thought. We spent the next two weeks in and out of UPMC as they ran test after test. Even though we were both naturally pessimistic, I don’t think either of us suspected the truth: you were dying.

•••

Annick Marleau is slowly losing everyone she has ever loved.
Kris Letang already has.