Tequila and Genes

“We need to break up.” That was the simple one line text she sent. Lawrence read it over and over again. He looked specifically at the word, “need”. She said they needed to break up. Needs couldn't be pushed aside. They couldn't be averted. They weren't like wants. Needs had to be satisfied. Needs had to be fed. So, when he saw ‘need’, he knew she couldn't be dissuaded from breaking up. Love wasn't going to be enough to stop her. No matter how much they loved each other, she had made up her mind to leave. As he slumped on his bed and put his hands in his head, he reminisced on the news that had changed the trajectory of their love life.

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Tilda was gold. She shined so bright that sometimes, you almost had to protect your eyes from her light. Lawrence always thought of her as a candle that had been sent to banish the shadows and darkness from his heart. When he met her at a bar on a quiet evening, it felt like all the cards were finally falling into place. She was sitting at the counter, nursing a glass of gin and tonic. Her skin glowed with the reflection emanating from the fractured colors of club lights. He sat beside her and ordered for a bottle of tequila. The voice of Night Symphony was filtering out of the speakers and the mood in the bar was lazy.

Lawrence was having one of his depression episodes and was in the mood to drown it in alcohol. He had just taken his second shot when someone tapped him on his shoulder. He looked up to see dark eyes lined with kohl looking back. It was her. She bent to speak in his ears and he smelled the gin and tonic on her breath.

“Do you want to dance?” She had asked. Her silky voice finding it's way into his ears. He shook his head in negative response. He was more interested in drinking his depression away, even though he knew it was a futile effort. He reached for his bottle of tequila but she snatched it from his grasping hands and he frowned at her.

“Can I have that back?” He asked.

“Let's dance.” She responded. She used her other hand to tug on his hand and tried to pull him up.

“I don't know you and I don't want to dance.” He said, his voice a notch higher.

“Fine then.” And she was dancing away from him with his tequila in her hands. He watched as she moved to the dance floor and swayed her slender body languorously. She closed her eyes, took a swig from the bottle and just swayed. Lawrence was now more focused on her dancing than his bottle of tequila. He found himself trapped in the rhythm of the song and in her light movements. Lawrence stood up and walked to where she danced. The dark cloud that had been hovering over his head started lifting and he joined her in her swaying. She put her hands around his neck and he put his around her waist and they just swirled and danced under the club lights.

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Somehow, Tilda became his light. She took center stage in his life and he told all who cared, that she was his light. When he met her, the shadows and darkness took flight. Lawrence depression never had a trigger. It just came in episodes. He had the perfect life, the perfect job. He had never lacked or wanted since he was a kid. His parents and family doted on him. People adored him. There was no reason for him to be depressed but it was always there. It was like an itch that wouldn't go away. Sometimes, it would be almost non-existent and then on other days, it would be an angry dark cloud that would go on for days. Lawrence liked to think that it was the perfection of his life that caused his depression.

Tilda didn't have the perfect life like him though. Tilda lost her younger sister to a strange illness. Her sister was frail and sickly. Sometimes, she would be stuck in her bed for days and sometimes, she would have these rapid bursts of energy. Then one day, she had these wracking pains overcome her and she was gone like that. Just dead.

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“I lost my sister to sickle cell. She was a warrior. And she fought so hard against it but when the pains came, they were too much. It was a relief for I and my parents when she died. We knew she would finally be at peace. If my parents hadn't gone ahead to marry even while having incompatible genes, we all wouldn't have gone through this pain of losing her. They could have married different people, lived different lives. But they decided to go through with it all in the name of love. And she had to suffer the consequences of their actions. I made a promise to her. I would be happy and live life and experience all the things she never got to.” She said on the night he officially asked her to be his girlfriend. They were seated on the shores of a beach at night. The full moon reflecting brightly on the waves as they moved to and from the shore.

“That was why I was at the bar the night we first met. My sister always fantasized about dancing with a stranger in a bar. And I got to do that and I met you.” Tilda’s kohl-lined eyes gazed at him. He always felt like she could see into his soul.

“I like you too, Lawrence. I like you a lot and i would love to be your girlfriend but first I need to know. I'm AS. What's your genotype?”

Lawrence shrugged. He was very sure he was AA. He had to be.

“I'm AA, Tilda. I'm pretty sure.” He replied.

“Alright then. I will take your word for it. I will be your girlfriend.”

That was easily the best day in Lawrence’s life.

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They dated for a year. The whole year they were together, Lawrence didn't go through any episode of depression. Lawrence was at his lightest and his happiest. Tilda’s high spirits always rubbed off on him. So one day, he asked her to be his wife.

“I love you too much to want to be just your boyfriend, Tilda. I want to wake up by your side every morning. I want to bask in the full glow of your smile everyday. I want to be the father of your kids. I want to love you forever. I need to be with you. Please, can I be your husband?” He had professed.

“I love you too, Lawrence. And yes, you can be my husband.” She had giggled with happy tears in her eyes. “But first, we need to go the hospital for checkups. You know, for our genotypes and blood types and all that.”

“But, I told you I'm AA.”

“I know, sweets. But just indulge me.” He couldn't refuse her with that puppy eyes look she had leveled at him. That was to be his undoing.

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“Mr Lawrence and Ms. Tilda, your test results are out.” The nurse said as she handed them the envelopes which contained their results. Lawrence watched as Tilda looked through hers.

“It's still the same. I'm AS. Let's check yours.” She said.

Lawrence removed his and scanned through it and then, he saw those two damning letters ‘AS’. He saw the hope fade from Tilda’s eyes.

“There must be a mistake. I'm sure i’m AA.” He argued. He went to the nurse's counter. “I think my result has been mixed with someone else’s. I'm supposed to be AA.”

“Sorry, sir. But we are always meticulous in every single test we carry out. We ensure not to make mistakes.” The nurse countered. Lawrence turned back to Tilda who was already wringing her hands in anguish.

“There needs to be something we can do. We can still get married, Tilda. We can adopt.” He said hastily. He couldn't lose her.

“Let's go home, Lawrence. We’ll talk about it better then.” She answered.

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“We need to break up.” Lawrence read the text again and felt that angry dark cloud descend on him. His episodes were back and there was no light to banish them this time.