The Fading Moon Chapter 26: The Day We Pretended Everything Was Normal

Read chapter 26 of The Fading Moon by MananTayal on NovelPedia.

The Box of Tomorrow stayed on Mike's desk. He didn't open it. Not a single letter. Not a single envelope. Not because he didn't want to. Because he couldn't. Every time he looked at the box, it felt like looking directly at a future he refused to accept. A future where Jessika existed only through letters. A future where her handwriting replaced her voice. A future where memories replaced moments. And Mike wasn't ready for that. So the box remained closed. Waiting. Just like the future itself. A few days later, Mike arrived at the hospital carrying his camera. The nurses greeted him warmly now. Most of them knew him by name. They knew exactly where he was going. Room 307. The room where a girl who should have been worried about exams instead spent her days fighting for her life. When he entered, Jessika was asleep. For a moment he simply stood there. Watching her. Her face looked peaceful. Almost childlike. The sunlight falling across her hair made her seem fragile. Like a dream that could disappear if someone spoke too loudly. The sight hurt more than he wanted to admit. Because lately he had started noticing things. The way her cheeks had become thinner. The way she tired more quickly. The way her hands trembled sometimes. Little changes. Tiny things. Things nobody mentioned. But everyone noticed. Mike sat quietly beside her bed. His camera resting in his lap. A few minutes later her eyes slowly opened. She blinked. Looked at him. And smiled. "There you are." "Good morning." "What time is it?" "Noon." Her eyes widened. "I slept that long?" "Apparently." "I wasted half a day." Mike smiled. "You were sleeping." "Still wasted." Some things never changed. Thankfully. Jessika noticed the camera. Her expression immediately brightened. "Photo day?" "Maybe." Her smile grew. "I have an idea." Mike instantly became suspicious. "That's usually dangerous." "Trust me." "Those are famous last words." Jessika ignored him. As usual. Then she pointed toward the window. "Let's pretend." "Pretend what?" She looked outside. At the city. At the blue sky. At the ordinary world continuing beyond the hospital walls. "Let's pretend everything is normal." The smile on her face remained. But something deeper hid beneath it. Something sad. Something fragile. Mike understood immediately. For a moment neither spoke. Then he nodded. "Okay." Jessika smiled. A real smile. And for the next few hours they played a game. A simple game. Yet perhaps the hardest one they had ever played. They pretended. They pretended Jessika wasn't sick. Pretended the hospital wasn't a hospital. Pretended tomorrow wasn't frightening. Pretended time wasn't running out. They talked about ridiculous things. Favorite foods. Movies. Childhood memories. The worst teachers they had ever met. The strangest dreams they had ever had. At one point Jessika spent fifteen minutes passionately explaining why penguins were secretly plotting world domination. Mike laughed harder than he had in weeks. For a little while, everything felt lighter. Easier. Almost normal. Almost. Later that afternoon, Jessika suddenly pointed at the camera. "Take a picture." "Of what?" "Me." "You hate surprise photos." "I know." Mike raised an eyebrow. Suspicious again. Jessika rolled her eyes. "Just do it." So he did. Click. She made a funny face. Click. She stuck out her tongue. Click. She laughed. Click. The sound of the shutter filled the room. Again. And again. And again. The same sound that had accompanied nearly every important moment of their relationship. Each photograph freezing another tiny piece of time. Protecting it. Preserving it. Refusing to let it disappear. After dozens of photos, Jessika finally held out her hand. "Now your turn." "My turn?" "Yes." "No." "Yes." "I don't like being photographed." "Exactly." She grinned. "Now suffer." Mike sighed. Defeated. As always. A nurse passing by eventually became their unwilling photographer. She laughed while taking pictures of them together. Some serious. S