4#04

4

As I leaned down to pick up my dropped utensil, I noticed Jessica's slender fingers, adorned with the matching ring Jerome always wore, tracing patterns on Jerome's stomach.

The other diners pretended not to see, but I caught Jerome's clammy hands and the flirtatious looks Jessica sent his way. Jessica emerged victorious in the next round.

"Tania, how about we have a drinking contest?" she proposed slyly. Everyone at the table paused and turned to me with intrigued expressions. Just as I was about to accept, Jessica changed her mind.

"Oh, never mind. Sweet Tania probably doesn't drink." She put on a false look of concern.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. But Jessica wasn't finished.

"I've got an idea. I'll have the alcohol, and Tania can substitute hers with mango juice." The group applauded, praising Jessica's beauty and thoughtfulness. Jerome joined in the praise.

"Tania, Jessica's being very accommodating. Don't make me look bad."

He was aware of my mango allergy. In our high school days, when I experienced my first allergic reaction, he had carried me on his back for 10 kilometers to get medical help.

I gently pulled his sleeve, my eyes welling up, "Jerome, I'm allergic to mangoes."

He reclined lazily, rising to fill a glass to the brim with mango juice, "Well, Tania, you need to build up your tolerance. If you drink more, maybe you'll outgrow the allergy. You should practice."

I realized I had no choice but to drink tonight. If that's what Jerome desired, then I would comply. I forced a smile, "Okay." I exhaled deeply.

If Jerome hadn't saved me back in high school, I wouldn't be here today. If this was how he wanted me to repay him, I'd willingly give my life.

Seeing my agreement, Jerome cleared the table of bottled mango juices and ordered fresh mangoes instead, instructing the staff to blend them into juice right there, a costly indulgence.

My heart sank. Fresh mango juice? Jerome seemed determined to shorten my life expectancy.

I gulped down glass after glass. My throat began to close up, my skin erupted in painful, itchy welts, but I persevered, undeterred. Before everything faded to black, I glimpsed Jerome rushing towards me.

I regained consciousness in the hospital. My allergic reaction, combined with anemia from my recent blood transfusion, had almost killed me. I urgently needed type KEN blood.

As I fought for my life, Jessica conveniently fell ill too, arriving at the same hospital, looking pale and tearful. Yet she still had the energy to think of me, "Jerome, go help Tania. I'm in agony, but I can endure. Give her all your blood."

Her apparent selflessness only made Jerome more worried about her. To prevent further protests, he kissed her right there, a kiss that lasted twenty minutes straight.

During this time, nurses repeatedly urged him to donate blood for me, but Jerome remained engrossed in the kiss, deaf to their pleas.

Jessica's voice quivered with mock guilt as tears filled her eyes, "I'm just worried Tania might be upset."

Jerome roared like an angry lion, "Why are you concerned about someone else when you're in this state?"

The nurses kept returning, but Jerome lost his patience entirely during their final attempt, "She's not on her deathbed! Why is everyone overreacting? Give her some glucose, she can last three days."

Jerome sent the nurse back to me with a message: [Say sorry to Jessica and I'll give you my blood.]

I lay there, pale and bewildered. What did I need to apologize for? My question was answered when I saw Jessica's latest social media post: [Thanks, Jerome, for rescuing me. Otherwise, Tania would've kept pressuring me to drink …]

Within moments, Jerome's response appeared: [Petty, envious women need to learn their place!]

On the first day after my hospitalization, both Jerome and Jessica shared posts about their romantic adventures at various themed hotels across the city.

The following day, Jerome called and asked if I hadn't thought of an apology after a day. He said I was as dumb as a pig and kindly suggested that if I couldn't figure it out, I should look online.

Late on the third night, Jerome finally came to check on me, only to find my hospital bed empty.

The hospital informed him that my boyfriend had collected me after discharge.