Liron spent most of the week in and out of the clinic, for various scans, tests, and psychometrics. At some point I was convinced he was just making up words: molecular genetic testing, magnetic resonance imaging, computerised tomography, polysomnography, positron emission tomography.

The funny thing is they were all testing to confirm what we already knew. Not a single test was working towards telling us we were wrong. By the end of the week, they were certain. Liron was diagnosed with a genetic insomnia that would kill him. His brain would deteriorate over time, and he would go into a coma and die.

Liron took it all in good grace. He seemed unusually upbeat, even though he was tired and losing his mind. The next week was spent with specialists - neurologists, psychiatrists, trauma socialists and psychologists. They were all very clear on the point that there was no treatment. All they could do was help alleviate symptoms as they showed up, but sooner rather than later, they would stop working.

So, Liron spent a few nights under anesthesia while the doctors picked his brains. I stayed with him at the clinic instead of being home alone. He was sent home with a bundle of medications to help him sleep, and to use when certain common symptoms showed up, a laundry list of instructions, and a pitying pat on the back.

And then things went better for a little while. The light in his eyes seemed to slowly slip back in, and he was smiling a lot again. The medications seemed to help, and the sleep he got was doing wonders for his morale.

Liron went to work for a day in order to quit, and came back with forest of flora as gifts. It never really occurred to me before, but I suppose Liron was well loved by everybody in his life, even his employer.

As I was helping make space in the kitchen for the flowers, he stopped and stood statue still, staring at me with wide, panicked eyes.

My first reaction was to panic too, and I rushed to him. "You okay? Should I call somebody."

He started chuckling at my reaction, but a frown stayed on his face. "No, uh, Maddock. It's just - whew! What a doozy!" He stepped back and scratched his head. "I guess we, uh, we have to, y'know, tell..." He let the sentence trail off, and I suppose my confused expression hinted that I had no clue what he was on about. He stared at me, expectantly. "Come on, I know  those synapses in your head are misfiring, but one of them will hit eventually."

Realisation sunk in, and I was mortified at the prospect. "Yep," he said, petting me on the head. "You finally clicked. We gotta tell our mothers the good news."

He was right, of course. It wouldn't do well to receive an invitation for your son's funeral that everybody but you knew was coming. Natasha would somehow bring him back to life just to kill him herself.

I leaned against the counter, considering a safe way to break the news. I felt like a teenage girl about to reveal to her father that she was pregnant.

"How do we do it?" I asked Liron. He was creative. Maybe I could get him to throw a lacy blue bra at his mom that had Guess What! I'm Dying! XoX Liron marked on it. Somehow I thought Liron might come up with a better idea.

He looked out the window, perhaps trying to draw inspiration from the scenes of the city. "Sunday lunch," he said eventually, and I nodded. "That way they can leave because they have jobs."

It gave us less than a week to prepare. We decided Liron would break the news without any jokes or smiles. He was going to try his best to stay serious. The way he explained it, we were supposed to prepare them for the eventuality of it, but show that he was still alive and well, and had many years of good times ahead of him.

Throughout the week, there were a few instances where I worried about him. He dropped things once or twice, or he would forget entire conversations moments after we had them, but for the most part his medication worked.

He didn't sleep all that well anymore, and I found myself in his bed with him more often than not, listening to the fantasies of things he wanted to do before...

These conversations made my heart ache, and I promised him I would help him do them. Go ice skating in New York, go to the Louvre, have the perfect date by the riverside on a moonlit night. 

Mostly, there was a rock in my chest that kept my heart protected from emotions. I felt like, with Liron, a part of myself was dying too.

Sunday came around, and Liron tasked me with navigating the city towards the country club - Liron reasoned that they weren't allowed to cried in a fancy establishment like this. We were dressed in suits and ties, marking the occasion. While we waited for the mothers, Liron was fidgeting. I squeezed his hand and gave him my best smile. 

He nodded, understanding that I was there with him.

Natasha and Sadie showed up not too soon after. Apart from a stray remark that Liron seemed tired, they didn't notice anything off. I felt him shaking in my hand.

Lunch went mostly without a hitch, except for a moment where Liron dropped his fork from shaking too much, but he played it off as having had too many energy drinks. Sadie scolded him lightly, but then Liron breathed deeply, looked at me with pleading eyes, and then turned back to them.

"Mother, Mother, I have something I need to tell you." He looked at me again, and he seemed like a scared child. I instinctively reached took his hand again.

Natasha started cooing. "Are you boys finally dating?" She asked with a wide grin on her face.

"Getting married, mayhaps," Sadie added, leaning forward and observing us closely.

Liron scoffed. "No. I..." He went silent, and the smiles on their faces fell, replaced by frowns of worry. 

"Are you okay, Baby?" Natasha asked, reaching over the table to squeeze his arm gently. He looked at her, then Sadie.

"I've been diagnosed with Fatal Familial Insomnia."

Sadie froze, and I understood her panic. She'd lived through it before with her husband. Natasha seemed to know what it was, but, to her credit, tried to keep herself calm.

"How long have you known?" Natasha asked. Sadie was still frozen, staring at her son.

"Two weeks," I answered. Natasha nodded.

"It must have been tough for you boys," she said, her voice cracking. "But you seem to have worked through the initial shock, so you won't mind of two mamas start crying for their baby?" Tears were starting to flow down her cheek, but she kept her voice steady.

Liron shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes too. He didn't want to have to break their hearts like this. Natasha helped Sadie up out of her chair, and let her around the table to Liron. They both embraced him, and Sadie's sobs started reverberating around the restaurant.

Each sob was a knife made of pain, and it stabbed at me. I could only imagine how much worse it was for Liron.