If I live forever, can I live now?

4

"Why are you getting treatments done at eight in the evening? I thought we agreed that we were going to stick to the timetable." I barked at Alex, as she handed me my white coat.

My head hurt, and I wasn't sure whether I could blame it on the frenzy of my visit to the prison, or if it was more related to the several glasses of wine I had had at the terrace, and the frustration that having to go back to reality right after had caused in me.

I didn't know what the reason behind my anger was, but my subconscious had already decided to blame it on Alex.

"I didn't decide to treat her know, Tessa, she came to me. Her appointment is tomorrow morning, and she came to explain that she won't be here."

I didn't look at her as she spoke. I looked past her, at the traces of her presence that were entangled in my most precious memories. Her chocolate eyes still made me remember the morning when I first shared my discovery with her. It had been a misty, sunny morning, at the University Parks, and she had transmitted freshness, and collaboration, and calm. I had wanted her by my side, I had considered her to be linked to me in an unbreakable way.

I remembered that feeling, but I wasn't able to retrieve it. Having had her as a companion during many of the most important moments of my life hadn't been enough to prevent our bond from bending and melting under the pressure of face-to-face competition.

The human mind was surely able to hold on to memories, to analyze past feelings and sort them as data, to help us get better by learning from them. But our hearts... Our hearts didn't seem to be able to keep fire sizzling when storms came up. It was impossible to retrieve past feelings, because they had been made conditional to more recent history,

What was the point of happy memories, then? What was their use, if we couldn't genuinely recycle the joy stored in them?

We walked fast, but, as we approached Alex's office, she held my arm and slowed down. She started talking, but she looked at the floor. It was strange, because she always held her head high when she spoke.

"This is not going to be easy, Tessa. I didn't call you because you are..." she swallowed. "... well, my boss. I didn't call you because I couldn't handle this. I called you because I knew you would want to do it yourself."

"Really? Well, I wasn't exactly bored when you called..." I said, rolling my eyes at her.

She finally looked up.

"It's Nora's mother. The woman that's refusing the treatment. She doesn't want to live without her."

I brusquely freed from her grasp and opened the door to her office. Emma was there. A loud gasp escaped my mouth. Entering the room without taking time to think hadn't been a very wise decision.

"Tessa." she said, and she turned to me. "It's been so long. How are you, dear?"

"You are here."

"I am." she said, nodding.

She still wore the same jasmine perfume.

"No, I mean... She is. Nora is. I almost forgot how much you look like her."

She smiled, and she confirmed what I had just stated in doing so. Her grin was wide, and the way in which it contrasted with her olive skin made me feel like not even sun beams could possibly be more strikingly blinding than that combination. It was so powerful that it momentarily took my attention from the disconsolate way in which her eyes had sunk.

That had definitely changed. The spark in her eyes was gone. Nora had taken all of it with her. I wondered if something similar was perceptible in my own gaze.