Kai woke to three missed calls. For one disoriented second, he thought something had happened to his father. Then he saw the caller’s name. Ethan Miller. Kai sat upright, his heart pounding. The room was pale with early morning light, and his phone showed six twenty-three. He called back immediately. Ethan answered before the second ring ended. “Finally!” “What happened?” “Good morning to you too.” “Ethan.” “Fine. Nothing terrible. Professor Miller moved our clinical presentation forward.” Kai closed his eyes. “Of course he did.” “It’s scheduled for eight.” Kai looked at the time. “Eight?” “Yes.” “I’m going to kill you.” “You didn’t create the schedule.” “I’m including the person who informed me thirty seconds before I need to leave.” “I called you three times.” “Because you enjoy watching me suffer.” “Obviously.” Kai threw off his blanket and reached for his clothes. “What presentation?” “The cardiovascular case study. You’re presenting the patient history and clinical reasoning.” “I know what I’m presenting.” “Then why are you asking?” “Because I’m hoping you’ll tell me it was cancelled.” “Your optimism is inspiring.” Kai ended the call before Ethan could say anything else. He dressed quickly, gathered his notes, and hurried into the kitchen. His mother was already preparing breakfast, though the tired shadows beneath her eyes made it clear she had barely slept. “You’re leaving early,” she said. “Presentation.” She placed a piece of bread on a plate. “Eat something.” “I’m late.” “Kai.” He stopped. His mother pushed the plate toward him. “You can be late by three minutes. You cannot study medicine on an empty stomach.” Kai glanced at the bread, then at her face. He picked it up. “Three minutes,” he said. His mother smiled faintly. “A generous sacrifice.” He ate while standing, grabbed his bag, and rushed out. By the time he reached the lecture hall, the presentation had already begun. Ethan spotted him at the entrance and waved with exaggerated enthusiasm. Kai resisted the urge to turn around and leave. Professor Miller looked up from his notes. “Mr. Anderson. How kind of you to join us.” “Thank you, sir. I try to make an entrance.” A few students laughed. Professor Miller’s mouth twitched. “Take your position.” Kai moved to the front beside Ethan. His pulse was still uneven from running, but once he began speaking, his focus settled. The case involved a middle-aged patient presenting with chest discomfort, shortness of breath, and a history of hypertension. Kai explained the relevant clinical findings, identified possible differential diagnoses, and described the importance of immediate assessment. When another student challenged one of his conclusions, Kai turned toward him. “That would be possible if the patient’s symptoms had developed gradually,” he said. “But the sudden onset changes the priority of the assessment.” The student opened his mouth, then closed it. Professor Miller nodded. “Continue.” Kai did. For the next twenty minutes, nothing else existed—not the hospital bill, not the university review, not the messages he had yet to answer. There was only the case, the evidence, and the responsibility of getting the details right. When the presentation ended, Professor Miller gave the group a measured nod. “Good work. Mr. Anderson, your reasoning was clear. However, your attendance remains a concern.” The words brought reality rushing back. “Yes, sir.” “You have submitted additional documents?” “Yes.” “They are still under review. Until the committee makes a decision, you must ensure that you attend every required session.” “I understand.” Professor Miller studied him for a moment. “Understanding is not the same as managing everything alone.” Kai’s jaw tightened slightly. The professor’s voice softened. “You are an excellent student. I would prefer not to see your circumstances force you out of the program.” Kai looked down at his notes. “Neither would I.” “Then use the resources available to you.” Kai nodded, though he wasn’t sure he knew how. Outside the hall, Ethan fell into step beside him. “You looked like you wanted to fight Professor Miller.” “I wanted to fight you.” “Ah. Much more reasonable.” Kai checked his phone. There was a message from the hospital and another from the university. The university message came first. Emergency Academic Appeal: Additional Review Required. His stomach dropped. He opened it. The committee had acknowledged receipt of his documents but requested that he attend a formal meeting the following afternoon to clarify the circumstances surrounding his absences and scholarship suspension. Kai read the message twice. Ethan leaned toward him. “What is it?” “Another meeting.” “About the appeal?” Kai nodded. “Okay. We’ll prepare.” Kai looked at him. “We?” “Yes. I’m excellent at sitting nearby and looking emotionally supportive.” “You’re excellent at talking too much.” “That’s another form of support.” Kai almost smiled, but his phone vibrated again. This time, it was the hospital. He answered immediately. “Hello?” The hospital administrator explained that his father’s revised treatment plan required an additional medication that was not included in the existing payment arrangement. The pharmacy had the medication available, but the hospital needed confirmation of payment before releasing it. Kai’s fingers went cold. “How much?” The administrator gave him the amount. Kai stared at the wall. It wasn’t impossible. That was the worst part. It was just beyond what he had. “I’ll come in after my shift,” he said. “Mr. Anderson, the medication is needed today.” “I understand.” “Is there someone who can assist with the payment?” Kai’s eyes closed. The question was ordinary. The answer was not. “I’ll find a way.” After ending the call, he remained silent. Ethan’s expression changed. “Kai?” “My father needs another medication.” “How much?” Kai looked at him sharply. Ethan lifted both hands. “I’m not offering money. I’m asking.” Kai hesitated, then told him. Ethan frowned. “You can’t cover that with your current shifts.” “I know.” “Have you spoken to the hospital assistance office?” “Not yet.” “Then do that before you decide you have no options.” Kai glanced toward the lecture hall. “I have work.” “I can come with you.” “No.” “Why?” “Because you have classes.” “So do you.” “That’s different.” Ethan gave him a flat look. “You know, for someone who claims to be intelligent, you occasionally say things that are impressively stupid.” Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Careful.” “I’m serious. You don’t have to let me pay for anything. But I can help you speak to the assistance office, organize the paperwork, or cover an hour of your shift if your manager allows it.” Kai looked away. He hated how reasonable Ethan sounded. He hated even more that accepting practical help no longer felt entirely impossible. “I’ll ask the hospital about assistance,” he said. “Good.” “And you can help me prepare for the university meeting.” Ethan grinned. “Look at that. Personal growth.” “Say one more word and I’ll withdraw the privilege.” Ethan immediately zipped his lips. Kai’s phone lit up. Adrian: Good morning. How are you? Kai stared at the message. He knew Adrian was probably already dealing with the Singapore negotiations. He could imagine Marcus standing outside a conference room, waiting with documents, while Adrian reviewed contracts and argued with people who considered human lives secondary to profit margins. Kai typed. Kai: The university wants a formal meeting tomorrow. My father needs another medication, and I don’t have enough to cover it. He paused, then added: Kai: I’m not asking you to pay. The reply came several minutes later. Adrian: I know. Kai frowned. Adrian: Do you want me to listen or help you think through options? Kai looked at Ethan, who was pretending not to watch him. He typed: Kai: Help me think. But don’t make any calls. Adrian: Understood. A second message followed. Adrian: Have you asked the hospital about emergency assistance or a revised payment arrangement? Kai: Not yet. Adrian: Start there. Ask what documents they require and whether the medication can be released under a temporary arrangement. Kai leaned against the corridor wall. Kai: You sound like you’re giving instructions. Adrian: I’m suggesting questions. You remain in charge. Kai read the message carefully. Kai: You’re learning faster than expected. Adrian: I have a strong reason to improve. Kai’s expression softened. Before he could reply, another message appeared. Adrian: I have a board meeting in ten minutes. I may be unavailable for several hours. The disappointment came quickly, sharp and embarrassing. Kai knew Adrian had warned him. He knew the company crisis was real. Still, he wanted to keep talking, wanted Adrian to remain within reach for just a little longer. He typed: Kai: Go to your meeting. Then deleted it. He wrote: Kai: I wish you didn’t have to go. This time, Adrian replied without delay. Adrian: So do I. But I’m going. And I’ll call when I’m free. Kai pressed his lips together. Kai: Don’t promise if you can’t. Adrian: Then I’ll say this instead: I’ll try, and if I can’t, I’ll tell you. Kai breathed out slowly. Kai: That’s better. Adrian: I’m glad. Kai: Now go terrify your board. Adrian: I thought you wanted me to be reasonable. Kai: I’ve changed my mind. Adrian’s final message arrived just before he entered his meeting. Adrian: Take care of yourself, Kai. Kai looked at the words for a long moment. Then he put his phone away. He had a hospital to reach, a shift to complete, and a formal university meeting to prepare for. The day had barely begun, and already he felt as though he were being pulled apart by competing demands. But this time, he did not try to solve everything in his head. He went directly to the hospital assistance office. The woman behind the desk listened as he explained his father’s condition and the additional medication requirement. She asked for the medical report, identification documents, proof of income, and the existing payment agreement. Kai handed over what he had. “We can review an emergency request,” she said. “I can’t guarantee approval today, but I’ll mark it as urgent.” “Will that be enough to release the medication?” “I’ll speak with the pharmacy and the attending physician. They may be able to authorize a temporary arrangement while the request is being processed.” Kai lowered his head. “Thank you.” It wasn’t a solution. It was a possibility. For the moment, that was enough. At the pharmacy, his manager agreed to let him leave fifteen minutes early for the hospital, but reminded him that his reduced schedule could not be adjusted again without approval. Kai accepted the warning without argument. He worked through the afternoon with his thoughts divided between medication, university, and the Singapore time difference. At seven thirty, his phone vibrated. Adrian calling. Kai answered while walking toward the bus stop. “You’re alive,” Adrian said. “Disappointed?” “Relieved.” Kai stopped beneath a streetlamp. “The hospital assistance office is reviewing an emergency request. They might release the medication under a temporary arrangement.” “That’s good.” “It’s not approved yet.” “I know.” “And the university wants a formal meeting tomorrow.” “I know.” Kai frowned. “How do you know?” “You sent me the notice.” “Oh.” A pause settled between them. “How was your board meeting?” Kai asked. “Long.” “That’s not a description.” “It was hostile.” Kai’s expression changed. “What happened?” “The investors want a decision before the supplier negotiations conclude. They’re concerned about the delay.” “And what do you want?” “To finish the negotiations properly.” “Can you?” “I don’t know yet.” Kai looked down at the pavement. It was the first time Adrian had admitted uncertainty so plainly. “Are they pressuring you to return?” “Yes.” “Will you?” “If I have to.” Kai’s chest tightened. The answer was practical. Necessary, perhaps. It still hurt. Adrian’s voice softened. “Kai.” “What?” “You went quiet.” “I’m thinking.” “About what?” Kai watched a bus pass without stopping. “About how both of us keep saying we’ll try, but sometimes trying still means we can’t be where the other person wants us.” Adrian remained silent. Kai swallowed. “I know you have responsibilities. I know I do too. I’m not asking you to abandon your company.” “I know.” “But I don’t want us to become two people who keep saying they understand each other while quietly feeling disappointed.” Adrian’s breathing came through the phone. “Neither do I.” Kai lowered his gaze. “Then what do we do?” “We tell the truth before the disappointment becomes resentment.” Kai gave a faint, humorless laugh. “That sounds difficult.” “It is.” “Your solutions are becoming less impressive.” “I never claimed they were easy.” Kai looked toward the darkening sky. “I missed you today.” “I missed you too.” “I wanted to call you when the hospital administrator told me about the medication.” “Why didn’t you?” “Because you were in a meeting.” “You can still tell me what happened. You don’t have to wait until I’m free to let me know you’re struggling.” Kai was quiet. Adrian continued, “You don’t have to protect me from every difficult part of your life.” Kai closed his eyes. “I’m trying to learn that.” “I know.” The bus arrived, and Kai stepped forward. “Adrian?” “Yes?” “If the board forces you to stay longer, tell me.” “I will.” “Even if you think I’ll be upset.” “I will.” Kai tightened his grip on the phone. “And if you’re upset, tell me too.” Adrian’s voice grew quieter. “I will.” Kai boarded the bus and found a seat near the window. For a while, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It simply reminded Kai that sometimes being close to someone meant staying connected even when neither person had the power to change the circumstances. Finally, Adrian said, “You should rest.” “You sound like my mother.” “Your mother is intelligent.” “Don’t encourage her.” Adrian laughed softly. Kai smiled at the window. When the call ended, the bus continued through the city, carrying him toward home and another uncertain night. His father’s medication had not yet been approved. His scholarship remained suspended. Adrian’s company crisis was worsening. Nothing had been solved completely. But Kai had asked for assistance without surrendering control. He had told Adrian when the distance hurt. He had allowed Ethan to help him prepare. Small choices. Small acts of trust. Perhaps that was how people survived circumstances too large to conquer in one day. Kai leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, he would face the university committee. And this time, he would not walk into the room alone.

The Things We Cannot Delay