The Grim Lover

I walked out of the bathroom. P'Fah, who had finished showering earlier, was already sitting on the bed waiting. He was wearing his usual glasses and engrossed in a new novel he's currently hooked on. And, as usual, he was completely absorbed in the story. He was oblivious to everything around him; even when I was standing at the foot of the bed, he didn't notice me.

 

Finally, I gave up easily, stopping staring at the avid reader and slumping down onto my side of the bed. The mattress sinking under my weight made P'Fah flinch slightly, but he didn't say anything. He just glanced at me briefly and then returned his attention to the book in his hand. 

 

When I moved closer, the bookworm automatically wrapped his arms around me. P'Fah pulled me even closer, still not taking his eyes off the exciting story on the pages. I rested my head on his chest quietly, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat as a lullaby. I didn't need anything more than that.

 

I just love being near him, especially when he's usually so chaotic and calm at the same time. That's my golden moment. He's so cool when he's not talking.

 

"Turn the page for me," P'Fah said softly. I turned the page of the book for him without saying anything, chuckling to myself at our current behaviour. One wanted to be affectionate, the other wanted to read but didn't want to leave him alone.

 

Because P'Fah's right arm was wrapped around me, he couldn't easily turn the pages of the book himself.

 

"Are you finished?" I asked after letting him calmly read both pages.

 

"Not yet," P'Fah replied. He was silent for about ten seconds before speaking again, "It's over."

 

I turned the page for him again.

 

We did that for quite a while. It wasn't any more convenient than the usual way, and it seemed a bit crazy, but I found it fun. A strange kind of fun.

 

"Are you tired yet?" P'Fah asked.

 

"No," I replied simply, then flipped the page back to him. This time, P'Fah didn't even have time to signal; my hand moved on its own, as if knowing he had finished reading the page.

About twenty minutes passed, and my body gradually relaxed. I hugged P'Fah tightly, like I was hugging a pillow. It was so warm and comfortable that I didn't want to move anymore. P'Fah gently kissed my head, as if to send me to sleep, even though I wasn't sleepy at all.

 

"...I really want to have sex," I murmured softly.

 

"Huh?" P'Fah turned around sharply. He bent down to look at me, a confused expression on his face, which made me burst out laughing.

 

"Just kidding," I said, chuckling and patting his chest lightly. "Go ahead and read."

 

"Are you sure?" P'Fah asked, his eyes wide with fear that I would lie to reassure him, even though I wasn't really serious about what I said at all. Partly, I just thought the atmosphere was wonderful, and partly, I wanted to tease him. "I can do it."

 

"Seriously?" I laughed while P'Fah continued to stare at me, blinking repeatedly, with no sign of joking.

 

"Okay," he nodded, "Go to the restroom. P'Fah is waiting."

 

I stared back at him, wondering if he was really thinking what he wanted or just teasing me. No matter how well we understood each other, P'Fah's playful nature was never the same. He always came up with new ways to tease me. That's why being around this man requires a great deal of self-control.

 

"What are you so suspicious of? Go ahead," P'Fah said, chuckling. "Or would you like me to come with you?"

 

"Is this really true?"

 

"Oh! That's right!" he replied firmly. "You wanted to do it, didn't you?"

 

I stared at his face for a moment before sighing and resting my head on his pillow.

 

"I don't want it."

 

"Wow!" P'Fah exclaimed, looking at me with a surprised expression. "What's this? Up and down like menopause!"

"I don't want to do that."

 

"But you wanted to, didn't you?"

 

"But P'Fah didn't want to."

 

P'Fah was silent. The fact that he didn't argue back meant that what I said was true, which wasn't a tense issue. We've always been like this. We observe each other and communicate as honestly as possible, and of course, without hurting each other's feelings.

 

"But you can do it," P'Fah said, stroking my head. He gently ran his fingers through my hair, like he was playing with a young, long-haired puppy. "It might seem like nothing now, but once you take off your clothes, P'Fah will be all in."

 

I laughed. It's always like this. I can't even imagine ever getting angry at P'Fah about what he says. He might seem like a strange person, talking nonsense, but in reality, everything he says is carefully thought out. He's just weird, not thoughtless.

 

"Maybe next time," I replied casually. "I'm feeling lazy."

 

"Really?"

 

"Uh"

 

P'Fah stared at my face for a moment before nodding slightly, as if to say, "I believe you now." Finally.

 

"Okay, then let's go to sleep," P'Fah closed the book, placed it on the bedside table, followed by his glasses, before lying down and snuggling under the same blanket. "Come here, little piggy, give me a hug."

 

I moved closer so he could hug me as he requested. P'Fah gently kissed my forehead and whispered, "See you in my dreams." He said this every night until it became a tradition between us.

 

The silence enveloped us for only a few minutes before my restless mind suddenly came up with something I'd been harbouring for a while.

 

"P'Fah," and my mouth started working immediately, "Are you asleep yet?"

 

"Not yet," P'Fah replied listlessly. "Why?"

 

"Did you tell Big Brother that you want him to be the best man?"

 

"Not yet."

 

"Tell me now, or we'll be late."

 

"Mm-hmm," P'Fah replied simply. His short answer made me sense a subtle, hidden resistance.

 

"Or don't you want him to be?"

 

"Yes," P'Fah replied. "Big is P'Fah's older brother."

 

"Why are you whining? Do you want me to go tell them for you?"

 

"No, it's not..." His voice was tinged with childishness. If I had to guess, P'Fah must have done something to make his older brother scold him. Now he's sulking and refusing to talk to him. He's always like this, even though he loves his brother very much. "But Big always scolds me. I'm too lazy to talk to him anymore."

 

See? I've never guessed wrong before.

 

"Just don't behave in a way that makes him angry."

 

"Whatever P'Fah does, it becomes fierce."

 

I sighed. I could understand why P'Fah said that. These two are siblings who are practically polar opposites. The older one is serious and follows all the rules; he's the epitome of a perfect Asian eldest son. The younger one, on the other hand, is a free spirit, unwilling to let anyone or anything stop his desire to break free from the mould. Because of that, P'Fah and I have always disagreed. The only thing they have in common is their appearance. If you want to know what P'Fah will look like in five years, just look at P'Yai's face.

 

"Well, that's good then. It'll be nice to have him as a groomsman."

 

"Can you reconcile with P'Yai on my behalf?"

 

"Okay, but only the eldest brother wants one envelope."

"Wow, Big's wearing a lot then, huh?" The younger brother made a face, his mumbled complaint making me laugh. "It would be better to have Benny be the best man instead."

 

"Benny has already booked to be a flower boy."

 

"Can't I take on two jobs?"

 

"Cannot."

 

The groom-to-be sighed heavily, as if this were the end of the world, when he realised he couldn't have his seven-year-old nephew be a best man at his wedding.

 

"Sigh, talking about it makes me miss Benny so much."

 

"Hmm, it's been a while since I've seen Benny," I nodded in agreement. Lately, we've both been so busy with our own work and the wedding that we haven't had time to visit our little nephew. Before, we used to see each other several times a month. "We really need to find time to go see him."

 

"You're trying to trick P'Fah into going to see Big, aren't you?"

 

"That was inevitable. Are you going to be mad at him forever?"

 

"Hmph," P'Fah snorted annoyingly. If it weren't for the fact that my sleeping position was now comfortable, that idiot would have gotten a slap in the face. "I only made up with him because I missed Benny. P'Fah wants to buy a new Lego set to play with Benny."

 

I smiled unconsciously as I imagined P'Fah playing with Ben, my older brother's son. The two of them were incredibly compatible, like a dynamic duo. They often pulled off mischievous tricks that earned them scolding from their older brother, but that didn't diminish their playful nature at all.

 

When P'Fah plays with Ben, it's not like an adult playing with a child. It's more like two children having fun together. They speak the same language, like friends their own age. The aunt communicates as if she has more authority. I, who don't usually have much energy, find it quite like this.

 

Just watching P'Fah play with his nephew makes me happy, too.

 

"Do you really like playing with kids that much?" I asked.

 

"Hmm... I don't know. Before, I didn't really feel like I liked or disliked it. I guess I realised how fun it is to play with kids when Benny was born."

 

"Then don't you want to have one of your own?"

 

P'Fah laughed at my question. He didn't answer, probably because he was thinking. I already knew the answer, so he acted as if it wasn't a serious question that needed answering.

 

"Seriously?"

 

But I really want this answer.

 

P'Fah was silent for a moment. I think he was probably surprised that I suddenly brought up this topic after we had talked and agreed on it many years ago.

 

"Just like I've told you before," P'Fah said calmly, "I don't want children. You know that, Won."

 

"Yeah, I know. But it's been many years. Maybe with time, you'll see more things and meet Benny. I think P'Fah might change his mind."

 

"I'm not changing," he answered without hesitation. To be honest, that made my heart skip a beat. "You want to change?"

 

"Do not know."

 

"Won once said he didn't want to raise a child."

 

"Yes, but back then, I was only thinking about myself." The image in my head became clearer and clearer with each word that came out of my mouth. I didn't realise this was what I wanted until I tried saying it out loud. "I couldn't picture myself as a father, but now... when I include P'Fah in that image... I think it's not as scary as I thought."

 

P'Fah was silent, but I knew his mind was a whirlwind of confusion, gears spinning wildly, a mechanism swinging up and down like a rollercoaster.

 

"It's possible my thinking has changed. Back then, when we agreed not to adopt a child, I genuinely agreed. But now, I think we can both do it. We're ready in every aspect, both financially and in terms of work. We might need to manage our time a bit more, but I'm on the staff now, so it's not as hectic as before. And P'Fah's work can still be adjusted if we want to."

 

I realise I've talked longer than I expected. Have I been thinking about this all along? Never.

 

"I have the knowledge. I want to be a doctor. I'm confident I can raise the child to be healthy. And most importantly..." I took a deep breath before continuing, "I think that child will be very lucky to have you, P'Fah, as their father."

 

P'Fah is too quiet. I hope he hasn't fallen asleep and run away before me.

 

"P'Fah will definitely be a great father. I'm sure of it."

 

"But for someone to be a good father, it should start with them genuinely wanting to be a father first."

 

His answer wasn't much different from what I'd expected, but hearing it in person was still hard to accept. I know everything; I know P'Fah doesn't want children, and I know why. But I still hope our relationship will change his mind, just like it will change mine.

 

I myself changed my mind because of him. But for P'Fah, it might be different. I can't change his mind.

 

"What Won said might be true. P'Fah might be able to raise the child and make him grow up healthy and happy. But would Won be okay if, throughout that time, P'Fah wasn't actually his father at all?"

 

I can't deny that what P'Fah said is true, but at the same time, accepting disappointment isn't easy, especially when that disappointment comes from the person I had the highest expectations of, perhaps even too high, to the point where they started feeling uncomfortable.

 

"Raising children and being a father are different, Won. Playing with other people's children a few times a month is not the same as having your own child."

 

I know everything, but I still want him to do it for me. I want him to change his mind. I want him to forget everything he's ever been through. I want him to let go of that pain. I want him to allow his wounds to heal. I want to change his past so he can have the future I want for him.

 

"I'm so happy that you believe in me so much, Won."

 

But I couldn't succeed.

 

"But P'Fah can't be anyone's father."

"Don't forget the packed lunch," P'Fah warned me before I got out of the car, as if he knew in advance. I'd completely forgotten that I had my lunchbox bag in the back seat.

 

"Okay, everything's ready." I grabbed my bag, along with the lunchbox that P'Fah had made for me. He doesn't do it every day because of his unpredictable schedule, but mostly, if he has the time and ingredients, P'Fah will pack a meal for me to eat at work. He's been doing that since I was an intern. "Bye."

 

"Yes, sir," P'Fah smiled faintly before leaning across the seat to give me a light kiss on the cheek. "Good luck."

 

"Okay, you too, P'Fah," I replied before opening the car door and getting out. "See you this evening."

 

"yes"

 

P'Fah ended his farewell with a smile and a small wave, like a Korean celebrity on camera, before his car drove away from the hospital. I watched his car for a moment, feeling a strange sensation. Normally, I wouldn't stand and watch P'Fah's car until it disappeared from sight like this. But lately, the atmosphere between us has been strange, and I feel uneasy almost every time we part ways.

 

We haven't talked about the baby since that night. I haven't brought it up. P'Fah acts like that conversation never happened, which seems like a good thing. But the annoying thing is, I still sense something unusual between us.

 

P'Fah is still acting normally, but I don't know why; I still feel like something is bothering him constantly. He still cares for me and treats me the same way he always has, something he's troubled by but refuses to talk about, even though normally I should be the first person he calls for, no matter what the issue is.

 

"Sigh"

 

"What did you use to shut him up, Mandy?" Chieng  grumbled, looking at me with an utterly exasperated expression. I knew I was ruining everyone's lunch (at 2 PM), but I couldn't control it easily. "Stop sighing."

 

"My friend's arguing with his boyfriend," Gloy lightly patted my shoulder to calm me down. I thought, "Thank you for that," because I wanted to do the same, but I didn't have the strength to move. "Single people, just shut up."

 

"You're single."

 

"I'm single, and I'm doing it right, not single and spiteful like you."

 

"I'm starting to understand why I'm single."

 

I sat watching my two friends brawl without trying to stop them. I secretly wondered what would happen if the residents saw staff members hitting each other on the head like this. Hmm... probably nothing much would happen, just some gossiping about it at dinner. The senior professors are more worried, though. They're always getting into trouble over nothing.

 

"Look at that, Gloy," Chieng complained to me after trying to fight but losing badly, despite being a big, strong man. Dr Chieng, the orthopaedic specialist, was admiring the young residents, but, upon seeing his condition, I couldn't understand what was so impressive about them. "I'm telling the truth, and you're acting like you can't accept it."

 

"What's the truth? I just don't have time. Do you know that even surgeons aren't free enough to spare the time?"

 

"He's here to ogle girls like some lecherous orthopaedic guy."

 

"Wow! Such stereotypes. There are plenty of good orthodontists."

 

"But it's not you."

 

"Are you really fixated on orthopaedic surgery...?"

I slowly sipped my second cup of coffee, trying to ignore the childish arguments of those two. I scrolled through my phone aimlessly before checking my chat app to see if P'Fah had replied, but there was no sign of him. Normally, I never sit here waiting for his reply like this. I know he'll reply whenever he has time to use his phone, but my thoughts are too scattered right now. Just his usual behaviour is making me uneasy.

 

"Hey...he's really down," Chieng  finally stopped arguing with Gloy and turned his attention to me. Actually, he didn't need to; I didn't really want to talk about it anyway. "Don't worry too much about it. He'll be fine. We didn't even have a serious fight."

 

"Sometimes, when things are like this, I just want to argue and get it over with."

 

"Cold war," Gloy nodded slightly, as if he understood me perfectly. "It's suffocating, isn't it? I understand."

 

"It's... hazy," I replied slowly. "He hasn't changed, but he's not the same either. It's hard to explain."

 

"He might be stressed out too, probably trying to find a way out," Gloy patted his back reassuringly. "And it's not your fault either. It's right to talk about these things so we know what everyone wants. It's better than keeping things bottled up and not talking about them."

 

"But the point is, we've already talked about this. P'Fah has always been clear about this, that he absolutely doesn't want it. But I still brought it up."

 

"I understand, P'Fah, he must feel pressured," Chieng said casually, before getting another slap from Gloy's palm for speaking without thinking.

 

But I don't blame Chieng, because I think the same way he does. "I'm not saying Won is wrong, but P'Fah isn't wrong either. Everyone has their own reasons. Their needs just didn't align."

 

"But I understand, Won," Gloy ignored Chieng 's words and turned to gently squeeze my shoulder. "Finding good people isn't easy, and P'Fah is amazing. He has a good job, money, is good-looking, has a good personality, and is responsible. If it were me, even if I didn't initially want children, after meeting someone like him, I'd probably change my mind."

 

"Inner," she murmured.

 

"Those who only think about finding scraps to live on day after day won't understand."

 

Gloy turned to taunt the person who liked to "scramble for scraps day after day. Thinking about it, it's unbelievable that Chieng is still single. Usually, good-looking orthopaedic doctors don't make it to the staff level. If they don't have a girlfriend they've been with since their internship, they get married right away. Some even have children before finishing their specialisation. Only my friend here hasn't settled down with anyone yet. He seems so independent and quite an outcast."

 

"Why overthink it?" Chieng  shrugged indifferently, completely unconcerned that he was being perceived as a stubborn fool in the guise of a man in a lab coat.

 

"Because you don't think things through like this, that's why you're over thirty and still not married," Gloy said sarcastically, with a smug look on her face.

 

"Because you overthink things like this, that's why you're still single in your thirties," and Chieng retorted with the same sentence.

 

This is the first time I've felt that being in a relationship is causing problems for others.

 

While Gloy and Chieng were engaged in their second fight, my cell phone vibrated. Seeing the incoming number, I could pretty much guess what kind of call it was.

 

"Yes," I answered the call, and a few seconds later, Gloy's phone vibrated.

 

We all jumped up at the same time, while the young orthopaedic doctor looked up and blinked, staring blankly, completely bewildered.

 

"Are you leaving already?" Chieng asked.

 

"Bye/Bye," Gloy and I waved goodbye simultaneously before each picking up our coffee cups and hurrying out of the cafeteria and heading to the emergency room

 

The emergency room was as chaotic as ever today. If I were to compare the hospital to a country, I'd put the emergency room in the capital, because this is truly a city that never sleeps.

 

The case that brought Gloy to the emergency room right now is a 22-year-old male patient who was in a car accident. He's complaining of severe abdominal pain, especially on the left side, pain when breathing, and tenderness on palpation of the upper left abdomen. Blood tests and abdominal fluid aspiration clearly indicate a ruptured spleen with significant intra-abdominal bleeding. Therefore, immediate surgery is necessary. Dr Gloy is the lead surgeon, and I'll be the anesthesiologist, as usual.

 

As an anesthesiologist, I need to take a thorough medical history and assess the patient's condition before every surgery in order to plan the most appropriate anaesthesia method. In this case, I received information from the patient's relatives (likely his girlfriend) that the patient had a history of malignant hyperthermia (allergic reaction to anaesthesia) and was also undergoing treatment for depression and anxiety, requiring him to take SSRIs regularly. Based on the information the patient's girlfriend provided me at that time, the patient was receiving both.

   

[ I have taken out the paragraph about the SSRIs. SSRIs are antidepressants. I know this because I am on SSRI’s aswell as SNRIs. I have basically shortened the paragraph. ]

 

Escitalopram and sertraline, both of which stimulate the serotonin neurotransmitter, are being used in relatively few depressed patients. Frankly, it carries a significant risk of dangerous side effects. However, based on this patient's current condition, I don't think that will be a major problem. The more important thing is to ensure the operating room, equipment, and all medications are free from triggers for anaesthetic reactions.

 

[I'm really not sure where the author has got her information from, but I really feel strongly about the part above. Antidepressants can affect everyone differently.

As with ANY medication, there are risks. Please do not be put off if you ever feel like you may need to take antidepressants. Maybe it's a taboo subject in Thailand. I don't know, as I have never been there and I live in the Uk. So um, yeah. If you ever feel depressed or suicidal, please go and seek help. Don't listen to anyone who says ‘Frankly, it carries a significant risk of dangerous side effects.’ Whether it is in a fiction novel or not….Rant over. ]

 

The atmosphere in the operating room for this case was calm, as is typical for most surgeries. Although the terms "ruptured spleen" or "bleeding" sound frightening, this patient wasn't considered to be in a critical condition. If no further complications arise (or what we often colloquially call "a devil in sheep's clothing"), the chances of survival were considered reasonable.

 

While the surgery went smoothly, I, as the anesthesiologist who didn't have much to do besides monitoring the patient's condition, had some time to breathe. Gloy whispered about the new professor to the scrub nurse, while a first-year resident who was observing the procedure slowly approached me.

 

"Professor," he whispered softly, "You have a phone call."

 

"Go ahead and answer it. Tell them I'm in surgery," I replied casually, without even glancing down at my brightly lit phone screen.

 

"I received it. They said it's urgent."

 

Hearing that, I nodded, indicating that I wanted them to hold the phone to my ear. I figured it was probably someone outside calling to inquire about a patient in one of the beds, or to provide additional information.

 

Regarding the patient undergoing surgery, I can only silently cross my fingers and hope that nothing will disrupt the peace and tranquillity of this operation.

 

"Hello."

 

[I] asked, and the voice on the other end replied almost immediately. I frowned, surprised to hear that it was Oscar's voice, not that of a nurse or doctor at the hospital.

 

"Uh, what's up, Aus?"

 

[Sorry to disturb you at work, but this really can't wait.] His serious tone started making my heart race. Oscar is usually playful, just like P'Fah, so seeing him being serious was rare. [Calm down.]

 

"Brother Os...what's wrong?"

 

And for me, that's not a good sign at all.

 

[Begging...the heavens...]

 

At the end of that sentence, my ears went deaf instantly. A wave of heat coursed through my body. The lump in my chest tightened, pounding violently until the pain radiated throughout my chest. Suddenly, I felt like I couldn't breathe properly; no matter how much air I took in, it wasn't enough.

 

This is....not true.

 

Something must have gone wrong. If it's not Oscar's misunderstanding, then I must have misheard.

 

"Have I misunderstood something?" My voice trembled, and I tried to whisper as softly as possible so that this thought stayed only in my head and didn't reach the others, who were focused on the surgery and the casual conversation.

 

[Won...]

 

"Are you sure? Did the doctor confirm it before calling to say this?"

 

[We've checked everything. Please listen to us. We know it's difficult, but right now no one can handle this except you.]

 

"That's not true. You're all ganging up to prank Won again, aren't you?"

 

[No, Won, this isn't a joke.]

 

"No..."

 

I think at most, it would be a call from a nurse delivering crucial information, something the family just remembered about the patient. That information might force us to change plans suddenly. Many of us here might find ourselves scrambling to solve the problem before the surgery is over.

 

But it isn't.

 

It's not about the person lying on the operating table, or any particular patient that I'm responsible for. It's about the people outside, the people who make me feel down and dejected while I eat, the people I forgot about when I'm in the operating room, the people I intend to clear things up with after work today, to finally bring things back to how they used to be.

[The sky has really turned dark.]

 

I tried to deny what I heard, but Oscar didn't give me that chance. He spoke with such conviction, and even though I could sense he was about to cry, he didn't hesitate to repeat the terrifying truth.

 

[The doctor said it was already damaged before the ambulance arrived. Only the other party involved in the accident survived, that's why they took them to the hospital.]

 

I didn't want to perceive anything anymore. This must be another dream. P'Fah always laughs and calls me silly because I keep dreaming that he dies. When the dream comes true, I wake up and cry. He'll laugh and pull me into a hug. "P'Fah must live to be a hundred years old, huh? You little pig, you dream that P'Fah dies so often!" Eventually, I'll stop crying and laugh along with him.

 

It's the same this time.

 

I have to wake up.

 

[I heard it's pretty serious, that guy. The doctor said his spleen is ruptured. You can call me a jerk if you want, but I really don't want him to survive. People around here say that the asshole was driving like a jerk, trying to cut in front of Fah and then crashing.]

 

But the more I heard the voice on the other end of the line, the deeper I drifted into slumber. I had given up hope of waking from this dream. I had fallen too deep.

 

[If my friend dies and that bastard survives, this world is so unfair.]

 

Oscar was sobbing uncontrollably; he could barely speak, while I didn't shed a single tear. Why? Wasn't I sad? Or was it because I was angry? I didn't know. No one could tell me.

 

"Does he have a name?" I asked, "The one who hit P'Fah."

 

[The police asked me to take a picture of their ID. Just a sec.] The voice on the other end was muffled, followed by rustling. He was probably searching for the photo. After a few seconds, Oscar replied, [Found it. Name...]

 

At first, I thought it was just a coincidence. The words 'car accident,' 'ruptured spleen,' or 'child' weren't clear enough to make a judgment. That's why I sought a definitive answer that would solidify all my assumptions.

 

[Famous last name, too]

 

While I initially thought this didn't concern someone lying unconscious in bed, I can no longer say that.

 

"Professor," the anesthesiologist called me as the patient's vital signs on the bed changed, "the patient has a very high fever."

 

I instructed the resident to hang up, then pulled myself back to the side of the operating table. No, is that even appropriate? I didn't even realise I was standing here.

 

This person is someone driving for fun on a road full of unsuspecting people, living life with the utmost awareness, an innocent person heading towards their destination. There's no way to know how important it is, or who is waiting for them. This person took away the person I loved most in my life, and now I'm trying my best to help him survive.

 

As he impulsively bullies strangers on the street, will he ever stop to think that it's wrong? Will he ever realise how many lives and hearts that fleeting pleasure could take? If other people's lives aren't valuable to him, then what about his life? Is the life of the person lying on the operating table worth protecting?

 

"Teacher..."

 

"Won," the nurse called out to me before Gloy, who was busy with the surgery, interrupted. She glanced at me, standing at the head of the bed, for a moment. That was enough to guess that she had sensed something was wrong with me. 

 

"What's wrong with the patient?"

 

I was silent for a moment, trying my best to regain my composure, processing all the information in my head to come up with what I thought was the best answer I could think of at that moment.

 

"Probably serotonin syndrome," I replied. "The patient has depression and anaemia, and is taking escitalopram and sertraline."

"Isn't it MH?" Gloy asked back. Suddenly, I felt like she was doing it on purpose.

 

[Malignant Hyperthermia. This refers to a disorder of calcium regulation in skeletal muscle, caused by increased metabolism induced by stimulants such as anaesthetics. This results in high carbon dioxide levels in the blood, muscle spasms, high fever, high heart rate, blood acidosis, and high potassium levels, leading to cardiac arrhythmias and potentially death. ]

 

"Test my knowledge a little. Gloy is a good friend, but she often can't hide her competitive nature, and that competition usually happens to me. But I don't usually pay much attention to it. This time is no different. 'He has a history.'"

 

"But he wasn't tense," I replied calmly. "The symptoms are similar, but if it were really myasthenia gravis, he should be tense. Besides, both the medication and the device are prepared without myasthenia gravis triggers. He shouldn't be allergic to them."

 

Gloy didn't reply. There wasn't even a sound of acknowledgement, and I couldn't discern her expression from beneath those surgical gowns. The operating room fell silent for a moment. No one spoke until the vital signs monitor beeped.

 

The moment the red fluid spurted from the gaping abdominal opening, everyone in the operating room's hearts pounded simultaneously. Each person frantically tried to address potential problems, performing their duties to the best of their ability. However, one person among them didn't seem to feel the fear for the patient's life that they should have, while another, though distraught, tried everything to save the patient. In the end, that patient did not survive.

 

I can't quite describe how I feel. Saying I'm happy would be too harsh. I'm a doctor, and more importantly, I'm a human being. I can't rejoice in anyone's death. I'm heartbroken every time I can't save a patient's life. I feel guilty and sympathetic towards those still alive, waiting outside the operating room with hopeful eyes, praying to a higher power that doesn't even know how to hold a scalpel, to protect their loved ones. I feel guilty that, many times, I can't answer their burning hopes.

 

But to be honest, I'm not as heartbroken as I once felt.

 

His death didn't dishearten me as much as it should have. It was like I was standing in the middle of both joy and sorrow. I helped him as much as I could, even though my heart was shattered and filled with anger, because I wanted him to suffer an even worse end than what my loved one experienced. I wanted him to feel guilty for the rest of his life for taking my boyfriend away from me. I wanted him to wake up and take responsibility for everything, and to feel like he was dying a slow death with every breath he took. That's why I helped him, not just because I'm a doctor, but because I wanted him to wake up and breathe in a hell on earth, just like I was experiencing, not to die without knowing anything like this.

 

Why is it only me who has to suffer?

 

What did I do wrong?

 

God, what did I do wrong?

 

Many people might think doctors are as familiar with death as monks and undertakers, but as a doctor who has seen countless dead people, witnessed corpses in a state that made me want to vomit just by looking at them, even personally escorted the living to the world of the dead, seen faces once vibrant with blood turn pale and purplish-green, this is different. Those experiences haven't helped me cope with my own loss. They haven't helped at all.

 

I could barely feel my own body; even my soul seemed to be only half intact. I left everything at the hospital and went to the forensic institute. Before that, I had sent all the necessary documents to Oscar and my older brother to handle at the police station. Once I had finished my duties as a doctor, I finally had the opportunity to return to my role as his lover.

 

I didn't want to go in. I tried to tell my older brother I didn't want to see it, but he kept saying I would regret it if I didn't see it with my own eyes. He was so cruel. Did he want to see me die, too?

 

Finally, I gave up. I thought that nothing worse could happen. At least I would have proven that this wasn't a mistake; the person lying there was really P'Fah, not just someone who looked like him.

 

The moment I opened the door, my body froze. The scent here was unlike anything I'd ever smelled before, even though I'd encountered it as a medical student. It didn't feel any more familiar. I tried not to glance elsewhere, focusing only on the back of the officer who led me in. Behind me were my older brother and Oscar, who seemed to be keeping a close eye on me.

 

This is the most horrifying image I've ever seen in my thirty-two years of life, and I don't think any other image will ever erase it from my mind again.

 

My lover, the most wonderful man in the world. I could admire his beauty endlessly: his handsome face, his bright smile, and the sweet scent that always enveloped me in his embrace. Now, all of that is gone. His skin is pale, almost green, his face is swollen, and his body is covered in wounds. There's nothing about him that I remember of P'Fah. Yet, I'm certain this is him.

 

It's really him.

 

"Oh-"

 

Everything in my stomach, the water, the coffee, the lunch that P'Fah made, suddenly came back up my oesophagus. The sour smell hit my throat. I covered my mouth with my hand and ran out of the morgue, out of the building, and vomited everything out under a big tree.

 

"Ugh..." It really all came out. I almost vomited my own intestines. My throat burned like fire, my face was hot, my ears were ringing, tears streamed down my cheeks, and my vision blurred. This was the worst reaction my body had ever had.

 

"Won..." My older brother ran out after me. He walked over, patted my back, and handed me a tissue, followed by… "Just water”, I don't know where he got it from. Maybe from the staff inside, because I'm sure I'm not the first person to throw up here. “Are you okay?"

 

I shook my head before collapsing onto the floor, covering my face and sobbing uncontrollably. How could he ask something like that? Am I supposed to accept this? Just trying to suppress the heartbreak and finish the surgery, knowing that the one I love is gone, is already heartbreaking enough. And now I have to see these images too?

 

"Why..." My voice no longer sounded like mine. It was someone else's voice, the voice of someone trampled upon by fate, the voice of a soul crying out to leave its body because existence in this physical form was unbearably painful. 

 

"Why...why...why...."

 

"Won..." My older brother pulled me into a hug. I used to think he was so much like P’Fah. Sometimes, at first glance, I'd even get confused. But today I know he's not. They're not alike at all. Not even a little bit. The warmth I used to receive from Fah... my older brother doesn't have it anymore. "It's okay. You still have me. You have Ben, too. Won, you're not alone."

 

"Why...why..."

 

Only one word remained in my mind. I could no longer perceive anything.

 

"Why...why...why!"

 

I screamed, beating my chest and head because I didn't know who to punish. The real culprit had selfishly fled this world. Now, only I, the innocent one, am left to suffer the consequences without any possibility of negotiation.

 

"Won, Won... calm down," my older brother tried to hold my hands to keep me from leaving him. Oscar ran out, looking panicked. I knew he wanted to do something to help me, but he could do nothing but stand and watch, crying. "Let's go home, please. I'll take you home. I'll handle the rest later."

 

"Why...why..."

 

Why is this world so unfair?

 

"Why... P'Fah... why..."

 

Why can't God bear to see me happy?

 

I didn't participate in the funeral at all. I just woke up from a sleep that felt like I hadn't slept at all. I put on the black clothes Oscar had prepared for me and sat in the church as he instructed. I didn't speak a word to anyone, not even to P’Fah’s relatives, about the fact that he wasn't religious. I'm the only Christian according to my ID card, so my older brother concluded that we should hold a Christian memorial service for him, and I didn't want to object because it wouldn't make much difference regardless of the ceremony.

 

In the end, P'Fah died anyway.

 

I sat on the bench, letting the prayers and condolences flow in one ear and out the other. Many people tried to talk to me, offering empathy, but I couldn't even muster a polite smile in return. I sat motionless, like a statue, watching my older brother smile so blissfully at everyone, as if completely unaware of what was happening. Didn't he realise how much I, standing here, longed to follow him?

 

Even after all the guests had left, I remained seated, shifting my gaze from the portrait of Fah to the bouquet of flowers surrounding him. The white flowers, interspersed with sweet, pale pinks—I thought they would look so much more beautiful at our wedding. But Fah, being so self-centred, hoarded all those pretty flowers for himself.

 

"Won."

 

It was someone sitting next to me. I didn't turn to look, but I knew from the voice that it was them.

 

"I'm sorry," he said with a sympathetic tone, "Gloy got infected."

 

"It was an emergency case, so I had to leave early. He said he'll stop by your house tomorrow."

 

Hmm... I've heard that word a hundred times, but I don't know how many people truly understand how much I regret it right now. Neither Gloy nor Chieng will ever understand.

 

"I know this is really tough for you right now, but I believe you'll get through it. And I'm sure P'Fah feels the same way."

 

What would I know? Maybe P'Fah is worried about me. As for other things, he might be 100% confident that I can handle them myself. But this... maybe he doesn't trust me that much. However, if it were.

 

"And... I know you might not want to hear anything right now, but I thought I should at least tell you this."

 

Why does everyone keep saying this to me? I know they don't want to hear it, but please, let me say it. I know it's not the right time, but I have to say it. Is this a genuine concern, or are they just doing what they think is necessary to make themselves feel better and escape being the indifferent party in this situation?

 

"The hospital is really hectic right now. They're dealing with a patient who had surgery for a ruptured spleen and passed away," Chieng  whispered, his voice clearly filled with worry. "You should have known he's the son of a powerful politician. At first, we told them his son's condition wasn't critical, and the chances of a successful surgery were high. But ultimately, his son died from an allergic reaction to the anaesthesia. They're going to sue you because they claim they informed the anesthesiologist that their son had an allergic reaction to the anaesthesia."

 

Died...because of an allergic reaction to anaesthesia.

 

What are you talking about? That kid wasn't allergic to anaesthesia. I didn't even use a drug he was allergic to to sedate him. He died from blood loss. Everyone at the OR saw it.

 

"He's taking this very seriously. The matter has reached Professor Nop, and he said he's going to get you expelled no matter what."

 

Just like this.

 

My life isn't miserable enough already, is it?

 

"He said you intentionally killed his child because... You were angry about P'Fah."

 

If I had known this, I should have just done it. After all, the outcome would be the same whether I'm a doctor or a murderer. The ending wouldn't be any different.

 

"But I know you didn't do it, that's why I'm telling you. I know you probably don't have the heart to do anything right now, but if you let this go and don't do anything, you could end up in jail, Won. You know how scary those powerful people can be."

 

Partner dies, patient dies, fired, sued, jailed.

 

I'm starting to get a little angry at P'Fah for leaving me to face all this bullshit alone. Does he think I'm that strong? Does he think I'm as capable as him, that I can get through this hell by myself? Does he really intend to let me live my life without him?

 

"Please, I beg you, fight on. I'm so worried about you."

 

fight?

 

Fighting even though you know you can't win?

Things haven't gotten better because the one thing I wanted can't be gotten back. I'm fighting even though I know that even if fate is on my side and I win, my life won't be the same.

 

Like this...what am I fighting for?

 

I think I was quite smart not to go back home but to stay in the condo instead. Because if I had died in my house like that, my older brother would have had a hard time selling it. I chose to die here.

 

This area is better. It might shock people for a while, but they'll forget about it soon enough.

 

I'll be gone now.

 

He disappeared along with P'Fah. It's possible that if they died around the same time, we might have gotten together.

 

We could meet right away. We might even hold hands and walk through the gates of the afterlife together. I don't know if it's real, and if it is, whether it's as bad and terrifying as people say. That's something we'll have to find out later.

 

He had been staring at me for a while.

 

The man standing on the opposite rooftop, that tall, well-built man, looked even more like P'Fah than his older brother, P'Yai. Even from this distance, I still thought he resembled P'Fah. Or maybe it's because of the distance that he looks so much like him. I don't know. I might be going crazy. Most people close to death hallucinate like this.

 

I thought so until I heard his voice.

 

It was as clear as if someone were whispering right in my ear.

 

"Jump."

 

Even the sound is similar.

 

That must really be P'Fah.

 

P'Fah knew how much I wanted to see him; that's why he came to pick me up himself. How sweet! No matter what world it is, P'Fah will always be the same kind P'Fah, always ready to be by my side. Nevertheless, I smiled at him and agreed to do as he instructed without question.

 

As my body felt light and the fear that had gripped my heart slowly faded, a dragonfly with transparent wings landed on my left ring finger. On the ring that P'Fah gave me.

 

"Even tall buildings like this have dragonflies?" I wondered, while at the same time recalling the drawing of a dragonfly that P'Fah had made during a holiday in our backyard.

 

"It looks exactly like..."

 

While I was thinking how familiar this dragonfly felt, I inadvertently moved my hand gently, and it flew away. No, it flew downwards. That dragonfly dove headfirst into the air, and I'm not even sure if dragonflies normally fly in that direction.

 

This may be the second sign.

 

Not just the man in the building across the street, but that dragonfly too.

 

"What are you waiting for? Jump, now!"

 

How could I refuse when P'Fah called for me like that?

 

"Wait to receive your request."

 

Wait, dragonfly.

 

I slowly closed my eyes and let gravity guide me. The wind whipped against my body; it was so cool and liberating. This was what I had been searching for. I feared nothing anymore.

 

I'm so sleepy.

 

It's probably time to sleep.

 

"Won."

A voice echoed in my head before my consciousness faded. It sounded like P'Fah's voice, but I knew it well.

 

He is not my blue brother.