Dimitris Part 2

I held her by the shoulders and pushed her away, interrupting the kiss. It was the most painful thing I had to do, especially because my body already craved hers. I would have been more than capable of tearing off her clothes and taking her right there in that deserted parking lot without a shred of decency.
"I need to stay away from you, Aris," I declared.
She took a step back, freeing herself from my hands and looking at me firmly.
"What are you afraid of, Dimitris?" she asked, incisive.
"I simply can’t give you what you want."
"And what makes you think you know what I want? Do you think I’m going to demand something from you? That I’m going to insist you fall in love with me or commit to a serious relationship?"
"Isn’t that what girls like you always want?"
My question seemed to offend her.
"Let me tell you something about girls like me, Dimitris. We don’t exist. There’s only one of me because every girl, every person, is unique."
"You understood what I meant, Aris."
"Fine then. I’ll give you some information about me that might not fit into the ‘good girl’ package you seem to think forms a pattern. For starters, I’m a girl who constantly walks a tightrope. You think I’m afraid of death, right? So let me tell you a secret: I’m not."
"Of course you are," I retorted.
Or at least you should be.
Or at least I wished you were.
"My biggest fear isn’t just dying. My worst nightmare is causing suffering to the people I love. Only eight percent of people who undergo the surgery I had live more than twenty years. And I’m approaching eleven. I’ve surpassed half of that. More than a large portion of those who went through what I did."
I didn’t know that.
I had no idea.
She had told me about undergoing heart surgery, and I could tell from the size of the scar on her chest that it was serious. But I didn’t understand a damn thing about medicine, so I had never asked what illness she had or what type of surgery was performed. I knew it had made her health more fragile, but... Not to the point where she had a significant chance of living a shorter life than average.
And it shocked me. I had very practical thoughts about life and death. But the idea that Aris might only have a few more years to live brought an unbearable pain to my chest.
After taking a deep breath, she continued:

“Then no, Dimitris. I definitely don’t want you or anyone else to fall in love with me. I don’t want to add another person to the list of those who will suffer when I’m gone.”
“And how can you know you won’t be part of that eight percent?”
“I can’t. And that’s what terrifies me the most. When I told you I wasn’t going to sleep with you yet, it’s not because I’m waiting for some grand declaration of love or a serious relationship. It’s simply because I want to wait until I feel ready.”
The implication that she was probably a virgin, or at least inexperienced, wasn’t necessarily a surprise. And not a question, to be honest. Because my mind was still stuck on the information about the eight percent.
Aris was very young. And full of life. She was... like a damn ray of sunshine on a morning beach.
It was unfair and unbelievable on countless levels.
She continued:

“I know, Dimitris. I know you’re not the kind of guy who falls in love, and maybe that’s part of what attracted me to you. But you know what I feel? I like being with you, talking with you. I like how our opposite feelings and thoughts complement each other. I like the shivers you give me whenever you touch me. I like our weird friendship, or whatever we can call this thing that makes us trust each other so much. I like when we kiss, and yes, maybe I want something more than just physical. But I don’t expect you to want that too. I don’t expect you to fall in love with me, and that’s all I want you to understand. ...Thanks for the ride.”
After pouring all that out, she simply turned and walked away, disappearing into the building as the door closed behind her.
And I stood there, still trying to process everything.
“You don’t want me to fall in love with you...” I said softly, now completely alone. “Damn it, Aris. Maybe it’s too late to tell me that.”