Goodbye, Red Flag

My mother had been hospitalized.

My boyfriend worked as a doctor at the same hospital. You would think he would have visited her often, but he never did. Not once.

On the first day of her stay, he did not come because he had taken a day off. His childhood friend was moving, and she needed his help.

On the second day, that same childhood friend appeared at the hospital as an intern. He followed her everywhere and showed her the ropes. He handled anything she asked for, no matter how small.

It went on like that, day after day.

My mother's ward was on the thirteenth floor. His office was on the seventeenth. All it would have taken was a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Even so, Sebastian did not visit her for more than twenty days.

My mother recovered. I picked her up by myself and took her to the train station. While I was on the way, he texted me.

Sebastian: [Suzy's pet dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to drive her there first.]

This time, I replied. [Got it. Drive safely. By the way, we're over.]

I slipped my phone back into my pocket and hugged my mother.

"Safe trip," I said.

My eyes filled with tears as I leaned against her sharp collarbones. Her illness had already taken so much from her.

"Once I hand in my resignation letter, I'll take the first train back to you," I said. "We'll stay together until the end of our days, okay?"

She looked stunned. "What about Bastien? Aren't you two supposed to get married?"

Sebastian Ross was my boyfriend and one of the best internists at Annsberg General Hospital. We had been together for five years.

I was not from Annsberg. I had crossed several states in this vast land I called home so I could stay close to him.

Then my mother was diagnosed with Stage II stomach cancer. During all 20 days of her hospitalization, my boyfriend never showed up to see her once.

On the first day…

My mother secretly came to Annsberg and checked into the General Hospital without telling me. When Aunt Rosalind called to inform me, I was out of town for work.

I had no one to rely on except Sebastian. I called him and asked him to watch over her while I rushed back to Annsberg after my meeting.

Silence filled the line.

Then he spoke. "Suzy's moving today. I'm on leave. I can't."

His voice sounded cold, as though it might fracture at any moment. The call ended there.

I did everything I could to leave work early and went straight to the hospital. I learned that my mother had been sitting in the inpatient hall for five hours because she did not understand how to make an appointment.

…

The next day, the diagnosis came back. She had Stage II stomach cancer.

I could not bring myself to tell her. I