Page 65 of Chaotic Curse
Daniela stops me with her fingers to my lips.“None of that matters, Hawk.”
“Of course it matters.You may still be able to have children of your own.And there’s in vitro fertilization too.You still have eggs, and you still have your uterus.”
“You don’t understand.The reason why the doctors recommended I have the procedure done in the first place.”
Because they would have done whatever that horrible degenerate asked.He had money, power.That’s all you need in this world to get anything you fucking want.She doesn’t need me to tell her that.
“Why?”
Obviously because he didn’t want her out of commission for nine months.This was a way to keep him from having to take her to a clinic every time one of his fucking friends impregnated her.
“I… I carry the gene for Huntington’s disease.”
My heart falls to my stomach.Huntington’s disease.I don’t know much about it, but I do know it’s cruel—relentless in the way it steals a person piece by piece.First the small things, the subtle changes in mood or movement, and then the bigger ones, until the person you love is still there in body but slipping away in every other way.It’s inherited, inevitable once it’s in your blood, and there’s no cure.Just a clock ticking somewhere inside you, and the knowledge that one day it will run out.
My mind races ahead, picturing tremors in her hands, her balance faltering, her voice slurring.The way she’ll look at me one day and maybe not know my name.And I hate myself for thinking it, but the truth is there—no matter what promises I make tonight, I can’t stop the clock that has already started ticking for her.
But I can hold her now.I can pull her against me and pretend I’m stronger than I am.I can tell her she’s still mine, that this doesn’t change us, even if we both know it does.Because there’s a difference between dying someday and knowing the thing that will kill you.
And now I know.
“Are you sure?”I ask.
“Yes.”
“How do you know this?”
“My father told me.”
I frown.“Did you actually see the test results?”
“No.”
“Did you hear it directly from a doctor?”
She swallows.“No.”
“Are you aware of anyone on your mother or father’s side that had Huntington’s disease?”
“No, but?—”
“We’ll get genetic testing done, Daniela.We’ll make sure.”
“What’s the point when I can’t have children anyway?”
“Stop saying can’t,” I say.“So you had your tubes tied against your will.We can get it reversed, and if that doesn’t work, there’s in vitro fertilization, like I said.Or adoption.”
“I won’t take the chance of passing on the gene.”
“Daniela—”
“I’m sorry.I won’t ever be able to give a man children.And I will probably develop the disease myself.”
Daniela is young.If shedoesdevelop the disease, the earliest would be in her thirties, most likely.
I’m twenty-nine.The thirties aren’t far away for me.But they’re over a decade away for her.
“Daniela,” I say.“Your father could’ve been lying to you.”
