Chapter 3: Overly Protected

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As we sat around the table, the clinking of cutlery against plates filled the air. I tried to focus on the conversation, but the weight of my heart condition seemed to press down on me, suffocating me with each breath. Jim noticed my subdued demeanor and leaned in, concern etched in his features.

"You okay, Sam?" She asked, her voice laced with worry.

I managed a weak smile and nodded, not wanting to burden them with my struggles. Kade glanced at me, her expression sympathetic, but before she could say anything, Tee's attention drifted elsewhere. Jim followed her gaze to a group of girls at a nearby table,  "Hey, Tee, we're here for Sam," Jim said, a hint of annoyance in her tone.

Tee tore her gaze away from the girls, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry, just got distracted for a moment," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Tee chimed in, "Well, there's only one reason why we're all here, right? To support Sam."

Jim nodded in agreement, her expression serious. "Yeah, we know that, Tee. But it's important to show our support, especially during times like this."

Tee's cheeks reddened slightly, and she quickly defended herself, "Of course, I know that. That's why I'm here with you guys at dinner, supporting Sam."

I held the wine glass in my hand, swirling the liquid absentmindedly as Tee and Jim bantered back and forth. Jim finally cut through the small talk with a serious tone, "Alright, what really happened, Sam?"

I sighed, feeling a pang of annoyance rising within me. "I thought you guys already knew," I replied curtly, my frustration evident in my tone. "I don't need to tell you what happened."

Tee quickly interjected, "Hey, Sam, we were just teasing earlier. But seriously, what's going on?"

Jim's tone turned serious as she leaned in, concern etched in her features. "Sam, did you and your grandma have another argument?" She asked gently, her voice filled with empathy.

I took a sip of my wine, feeling a mixture of frustration and gratitude towards my friends. "Yeah, we did," I admitted quietly, grateful that Jim understood without needing further explanation.

Jim spoke up, her voice gentle yet firm, "Sam, I know your grandma can be a bit overbearing at times, but she's just concerned about you. We all are."

I nodded, appreciating Jim's understanding, but my focus remained on the wine in my hand. As I took another sip, Jim's concerned voice broke through my thoughts, "Look at that, Sam. You're drinking quite heavily. It might not be the best for your heart."

"I appreciate all of you caring," I began, my voice tinged with frustration. "But sometimes, I feel suffocated. I just want to be treated fairly, not like I'm made of glass because of my heart condition."

My friends exchanged glances, understanding dawning on their faces. I continued, my tone growing more impassioned, "I'm tired of the constant reminders, you know? 'Sam, don't do this,' 'Sam, this is what you need to eat,' 'Sam, this is what you need to do.' It's like I can't make a single decision without someone telling me what's best for my heart."

I took a deep breath, the weight of my words hanging in the air. "I just want to live my life without feeling like I'm walking on eggshells all the time," I concluded, hoping they would understand my perspective.

Kade spoke up, aligning herself with my perspective, "Guys, we all know that Sam shouldn't be pressured or made to feel depressed. But this constant treatment is only making her feel worse."

Jim's expression softened, and she nodded in understanding. "Sam, I'm sorry. We just care about you so much, and I don't want anything to happen to you."

Kade took a deep breath, speaking on my behalf, "Sam won't die because of what she eats, but she might have another heart attack because of the depression caused by how we treat her."

I held up my hand to stop Kade, feeling a surge of emotion as I looked at Jim. "Kade, it's okay," I said softly, my voice trembling slightly. "I understand why Jim is overprotective. She's not just my friend; she's been my best friend since we were kids. We grew up together, and I know she just wants what's best for me."

Turning to Jim, I gave her a small smile. "And Jim, if anything were to happen to me, please don't blame yourselves. You've all done everything you could to take care of me, and I'm grateful for that. I'll always be grateful for your love and support."

Chuckling lightly, I added, "Yeah, and if I do pass away, I promise I won't haunt any of you. No ghostly visits from me."

Tee quickly hushed me, a hint of seriousness in her voice. "Sam, stop with that nonsense talk," he said firmly. "Just promise us one thing: take care of yourself."

I nodded, sincerity in my eyes as I replied, "I promise, Tee. I don't want to die early either."

With that promise hanging in the air, we raised our glasses in a toast, the clinking of glass echoing in the air as we dug into our dinner. However, as I reached for my phone and saw my grandma's text, the suffocating feeling returned, a reminder of the constant worry and reminders that came with my condition.

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