Gemotions

The sterile white of the hospital room seemed to amplify the silence. Amelia stared at the IV drip, the rhythmic pulse a hollow echo of the frantic beat inside her. She hadn't said goodbye to her dog. A simple text would have done it. Now, the dog was gone and she was left here, staring at the walls, the emptiness of a life lived without the simplest of communication.

A nurse entered, followed by a middle-aged man with thinning hair. "You both have Alpha-Gal Syndrome, yes? The rare one? Well, I think you should meet each other.”

The man gave a small, almost apologetic smile. "I'm David. I was diagnosed three months ago. I miss steak. And cheese. And… well, everything." He ran a hand through his hair. "It's a tough adjustment, isn’t it?"

Amelia nodded, a lump forming in her throat. She should have gone to that barbecue. She should have said yes to life more often.