For His First Love, He Ignored Our Life and DeathChapter 1
On the day the SAT results were released, my daughter got into both Harvard and Stanford, an incredible achievement.
That evening, our world came crashing down: my entire family tested positive for HIV. Desperate, I asked my husband, a physician, for antiretrovirals.
John Garcia handed me one dose and disappeared.
Holding the only vial of medication, I stood helpless by the hospital beds of my seven family members.
I called him, only to be met with impatience,
"I gave you the dose. What else do you want?"
Through tears, I told him one dose wasn't nearly enough for all of us.
John accused me of exaggerating and scoffed, "Emily, what kind of family is this, where everyone has such a disgraceful disease?"
His words stunned me, but before I could respond, his ex's voice came through the phone,
"John, you still love me, right? Finalize your divorce when we're back."
The line went dead directly.
The next time I saw him was two weeks later.
I was dragging a cart with six urns up to the cemetery, my face numb, my heart heavier.
John hadn't approved the medications until the time was too late.
We missed the crucial treatment window; my family succumbed to complications, starting with my grandparents and moving to my younger siblings and aunts.
I had always known about John's first love, but I couldn't believe he'd abandon us to celebrate her birthday overseas.
That night after he ended the call with me, my phone displayed a painful reminder—a post from John, showing a woman with a diamond ring.
The caption read bitterly, "True lovers never part."
I blocked John and started arranging the funerals.
After hours in the cemetery, dizziness overcame me as I tried to stand.
"Emily? What are you doing here?"
Having thought I misheard my name, I turned and saw the familiar face of John Garcia. He was back.
Annoyance was clear on his face as he asked, "Are you following me now?"
He referred to how I used to call his assistant when he came home late, checking on him.
Since our HIV diagnosis and his disappearance, I had pleaded for more medicine.
To him, my constant worry was just obsessive and invasive.
Not wanting to argue, I attempted to leave, but Jessica Hernandez, by his side, stopped me.
She looked at me with surprise and then a sly smirk, "You're Emily, right? John talks about you often."