Even Without Your Blood, I Can Live Well on My Own

As I bent down to retrieve my fork, I caught sight of Jessica's delicate hand, adorned with the matching couple ring Jerome always wore. Her fingers wandered across Jerome's abdomen.

The others at the table feigned ignorance, but I noticed Jerome's sweaty palms and the flirtatious glances Jessica threw his way. In the next round, Jessica won.

"Let's do a drinking challenge, Tania. What do you think?" she suggested coyly. Everyone paused mid-drink and looked at me with amused curiosity. I was about to agree when Jessica changed her mind.

"Oh, wait. Tania's so innocent, you probably don't drink." She feigned an apologetic expression.

Relieved, I relaxed a little. But Jessica wasn't done.

"How about this? I'll drink the alcohol and Tania can replace hers with mango juice." The group clapped in admiration, praising Jessica for her beauty and kindness. Even Jerome chimed in.

"Tania, Jessica has gone out of her way to accommodate you. Don't embarrass me."

He knew about my mango allergy. In high school, when I had my first allergic reaction, he carried me on his back for 10 kilometers to the hospital.

I gently tugged on his arm to remind him, tears welling up, "Jerome, I'm allergic to mangoes."

He leaned back lazily, standing up to fill a glass of mango juice to the brim, "Well then, Tania, you need to start building a tolerance. If you drink more, maybe you won't be allergic anymore. You should practice."

I understood clearly, tonight, I had no choice but to drink. If that's what Jerome wanted, then so be it. I forced a smile, "Alright." I sighed.

If not for Jerome's rescue back in high school, I wouldn't be alive today. If this was how he wanted me to repay him, I'd gladly give him my life.

Seeing my agreement, Jerome swept the bottled mango juices off the table and ordered fresh mangoes instead, instructing the server to blend them into juice on the spot, an extravagance that cost thousands.

My chest tightened. Fresh mango juice? Jerome seemed bent on shortening my lifespan.

One glass after another, I swallowed the juice. My throat began to constrict, my skin flared with painful, itchy hives, but I pressed on, unfazed. Before everything went dark, I caught a glimpse of Jerome running towards me.

The next thing I knew, I was in the hospital. My allergic reaction, compounded by the anemia from my last blood transfusion, had brought me to the brink. I needed type KEN blood urgently.

As I clung to life, Jessica conveniently fell ill too, arriving at the same hospital, pale as a sheet, tears streaking down her face. Yet she still had the strength to think of me, "Jerome, go save Tania. I'm in so much pain, but I can hold on. Give all your blood to her."

Her selflessness only made Jerome more concerned for her. To prevent further refusals, he kissed her right there, a kiss that lasted for twenty full minutes.

During that time, nurses repeatedly urged him to donate blood for me, but Jerome remained absorbed in the kiss, oblivious to their pleas.

Jessica's voice trembled with feigned guilt as tears welled in her eyes, "I'm just afraid Tania might be upset."

Jerome erupted like a furious lion, "Why are you worrying about someone else when you're like this?"

The nurses kept coming back, but Jerome lost his temper altogether during their last attempt, "She's not dying! Why is everyone acting so dramatic? Give her some glucose, she can last three days."

Jerome sent the nurse back to me with a message: [Apologize to Jessica and I'll give you my blood.]

I lay there, pale and confused. What did I have to apologize for? My question was answered when I saw Jessica's newest post online: [Thank you, Jerome, for saving me. Otherwise, Tania would've kept forcing drinks on me …]

Within seconds, Jerome's reply appeared: [Petty, jealous women need to be put in their place!]

On the first day after my hospitalization, both Jerome and Jessica shared posts about their romantic escapades at themed hotels across the city.

The next day, Jerome called me and asked me if I hadn't thought of the words to apologize after a day. He said I was as stupid as a pig and kindly reminded me that if I couldn't figure it out, I could check it online.

Late one night on the third day, Jerome couldn't help but come looking for me, only to discover my hospital bed empty.

The hospital explained that my boyfriend had picked me up after discharge.