Ten months earlier
 

“I’m telling you, next year I’m repaying you for this.”

Smiling, Junmyeon unlocked the door to their apartment. “And I already said there’s no need for that. I love your present.”

“Jun, it was just a picture. And a frame,” Yixing said, rolling his eyes.

Junmyeon grabbed Yixing’s hand to stop him from crossing the threshold. His lips found Yixing’s lips instantly, kissing him tenderly. “And the most beautiful words. I’m serious, I loved it… I love you.”

A faint blush appeared on Yixing’s cheeks, and he diverted his gaze from Junmyeon. “I love you too, but you’re just too kind to admit it .”

While shaking his head and grinning, Junmyeon walked inside the apartment. After spending a week in Japan, they had finally returned home from their vacation. It was the evening, and both were tired from the flight. Unpacking could wait. So, they dropped their suitcases in the hallway and went straight to lay on their comfortable bed. Once in Yixing’s arms, Junmyeon fell into a slumber.

But not even two hours later Junmyeon’s sleep was disturbed by the sound of his phone. He blinked, trying to adapt to the screen’s light. Sehun had called again, and it was then Junmyeon remembered that Sehun had messaged earlier, saying he needed to talk urgently. Junmyeon turned to see Yixing and fortunately, Yixing was still sound asleep. To not disturb his fiancé, he silently left the room.

Junmyeon walked into the living room but decided to go out to the terrace. It was night time now. The mild January weather was pleasant compared to Hokkaido’s freezing cold. Not wanting to lose himself in the new memories of his and Yixing’s trip, Junmyeon took out his phone and nervously called Sehun back. After two beeps, Sehun answered.

“Junmyeon.”

“Sehun,” Junmyeon said, “What’s the matter? Oh god, don’t tell me something happened to your wife, or is it the baby-”

“No, no. We’re all doing fine is just that…” Sehun sighed, “You know what? Te-tell me about your vacation first.”

Junmyeon felt relieved that neither Sehun, his wife nor the child she was bearing was in danger. But through the sound of his voice, Junmyeon noted that his cousin was anxious, afraid. Despite his doubts and many questions, Junmyeon tried to ease Sehun’s apprehension. He told him about Hokkaido, the ski resort, the Japanese food, and everything else that had occurred in the seven wonderful days he spent with Yixing. Sehun had calmed down while listening, but once Junmyeon had finished and asked him what was going on, Sehun’s nervousness returned. Sehun had difficulty finding words for whatever he was trying to say, and Junmyeon was starting to freak out too.

“Dad was in Seoul last month. He met-” Sehun said but stopped midways to breathe out.

“Is uncle all right? Is it his health?”

“No, dad’s okay. Junmyeon it’s-I…”

“Sehun, you’re worrying me. Just tell me what’s going on. Please.”

Sehun sighed again. “I-I need to tell you something important. But my physician and everyone else thinks I should let an expert deliver this to you… I’m not apt to say anything.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Junmyeon tried to patiently wait for whatever Sehun was going to say, but his mind was coming up with all kinds of scenarios that didn’t help at all.

“But oh my god, Junmyeon, I can’t take it anymore. It’s been killing me, and you also need to know, even if-if I might be about to disrupt your entire life.”

“Sehun, now I’m scared. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

“Junmyeon, our family has… Our family has familial ALS.”

That was not a scenario Junmyeon had thought of. He gripped his phone tighter, his eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. ALS. It had been decades since he had last heard those three letters, but he still remembered them by heart: Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. The wheelchair. The hospital bed. The tears. The tubes sticking out from her. The muteness. The tears. The skeleton-like body. The countless tears.

The flashbacks had entered Junmyeon’s mind in what felt like milliseconds. From an early age, he had learned that ALS was one of the most fatal and incurable diseases. His eyes had witnessed how the sickness had rapidly taken away Sehun’s mother, reducing her existence to laying lifelessly on a bed, until one day, she simply didn’t wake up.

“What?” Junmyeon asked, breaking the quietness that had fallen.

“Dad told me,” Sehun said and then explained everything.

Years ago, Sehun’s father had moved from Seoul, but each year, on December 18, he would return to visit his wife’s grave on her birthday. As he was leaving the cemetery, Mr. Oh encountered the wife of his former brother-in-law, Junmyeon, and Sehun’s blood-related uncle. They hadn’t seen each other since Junmyeon had been thrown out of his house. The Kim family had decided to exclude Junmyeon and everyone who helped him, including Sehun and him, from their lives. So, they talked for a while, catching up with everything that had occurred in the last years. It was then that she told him that her husband had died of ALS six months ago. Three years ago, Sehun’s and Junmyeon’s uncle had been diagnosed with ALS. And because he was the second person in the Kim family to suffer the illness, he decided to conduct a genetic test. The results came back positive, and the doctors found out that he carried a mutation in the SOD1-gene. It was this mutation that had caused his ALS.

When Sehun’s mother had been diagnosed with ALS, they had ruled out the fact that it could be genetical. Nobody in the family was suffering it, so it was thought to be a case of sporadic ALS. However, now that it was confirmed to be a case of familial ALS, it ran in the family. Some members of the Kim family decided to carry out a presymptomatic genetic test, a test that through a blood sample analyzed a person’s DNA and found mutations in the SOD1-gene. Sehun’s and Junmyeon’s grandmother tested negative, and it was then presumed that it was their grandfather, who had died of a heart attack long ago, that was the original carrier of the mutation.

To summarize it, the Kim family knew for three years that a mutation that caused ALS ran in the family. But nobody, nobody had bothered to tell Junmyeon or Sehun about the deadly matter.

The fear of losing his son to the same horrible illness was what forced Mr. Oh to beg Sehun to do a presymptomatic genetic test. And that was the next thing Sehun had done after his father had called him, even if his physician and genetics counselor, had advised Sehun to carefully think about. Now Sehun had to wait around two months until his results came back. The uncertainty was pure despair.

“It’s been hell, Junmyeon. Because my mom had ALS, there’s a fifty percent chance I have that mutation. I might get ALS. But the worst part is that I cannot bear the thought of knowing I might pass that ing disease to my daughter.”

Junmyeon could hear Sehun crying on the other end. He was speechless, not only because of the kind of family they had but because Sehun was at risk of following the same fate as his mother. He couldn’t imagine Sehun bedridden, so skinny it was frightening, not able to talk or eat, miserable for months, until one day he just died. He couldn’t imagine that, and neither could he imagine himself.

“The genetics counselor says a positive test doesn’t guarantee I’ll get sick. But damn it, my mom had it, uncle had it, they think cousin Haemin might be developing it too. This ing family is cursed.”

Junmyeon let Sehun cry some more, he didn’t know what to say to bring him peace. Only the results of that test had that power. But Junmyeon needed to clear one doubt that was slowly sinking him in fear. So, he asked, “Sehun, do-does my so-called father, have it too?”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know. That man, he, he never did the test. He didn’t want to know. But Junmyeon, I think you should do it. I’m sorry for burdening you with this but what if…? You might also be at risk.”

If his father wasn’t carrying that mutation, Junmyeon was safe. There was nothing to make a fuss about. So, Junmyeon could let fate decide for him and tell him whether he had the faulty gene or not. Could he live peacefully without knowing?

“It’s okay Sehun. Thank you, thank you for telling me this.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sehun said before he hung up the phone.

Junmyeon stared into the distant skyline. His heart pounded, his hands were sweaty, and his brain couldn’t stop torturing him with the memories of his aunt dying in a hospital bed, breathing through a tube connected to a machine, unable to console her crying eleven-year-old son. Two years, his aunt had only survived for two years. And his uncle had pulled through three years. How long was the survival rate? He held up his phone again and tapped it down in the search browser. ALS. Fatal degenerative neurological condition. Muscle weakness. Limb paralysis. Dysphagia. Feeding tube. Two to five years. No possible cure.

No possible cure, two to five years, Junmyeon read over and over. Most of what he had read he already knew about, he had seen it happening with his aunt. Still, it frightened him to the core. He wouldn’t leave peacefully without knowing, not when this whole bomb could explode any minute and destroy his life. Junmyeon needed to know, he needed to carry out that genetic test. Even if the outcome could be disastrous news, he had to do it because it was the only way he could put his heart at ease.

“There you are,” Yixing said as he embraced Junmyeon in a back hug.

Scared, Junmyeon jumped and dropped his phone. He hadn’t even heard Yixing approaching. And when he turned around to meet Yixing, Yixing must have seen the state he was at.

“Jun, what’s the matter? Did something happen?”

Should he tell him? Should he worry Yixing by telling him he had a fifty percent chance to develop a fatal illness? He looked at Yixing’s concerned eyes and made his choice. “It’s nothing, Xing… Just, Sehun. You know, freaking out about being a dad soon.” He smiled, hoping that Yixing would buy it. Apparently, he did. Yixing chuckled.

“He’s got nothing to worry about. He’s gonna be a great dad!”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“And you’re gonna be just as great,” Yixing said, smiling as he leaned in to hug Junmyeon again.

Junmyeon raised his arms to hold Yixing. “You too.”

Later that week Junmyeon had an appointment with his doctor. He told him everything he knew about his familial ALS and the many concerns he had. In the end, the doctor arranged a meeting with a genetics counselor for Junmyeon.

Nine days after having that phone call with Sehun, Junmyeon finally met with the genetics counselor to discuss the issues regarding familial ALS and the presymptomatic genetic testing.

First, the genetics counselor and Junmyeon revised his medical history and his family history of ALS. Then, she went on to explain what familial ALS was.

Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis was a progressive neurodegenerative disorder that affected motor neurons. These nerve cells were found in the brain and in the spinal cord and were responsible for controlling voluntary muscle movement. ALS caused the motor neurons to die over time, which led to muscle weakness, loss of muscle mass, and later the inability to control movement.

The genetics counselor only gave a brief overview of ALS. She said it was too soon to discuss thoroughly the ALS’s symptoms development or available treatments. Nothing was confirmed yet, and she didn’t want to worry Junmyeon. But Junmyeon already knew the horrible fate that awaited.

In most cases people suffered sporadic ALS, they got affected despite lacking a history of the disorder in the family. Around five to ten percent of ALS cases were familial, that was that more than one person in the family was affected. In familial ALS, it was a genetic mutation that caused the disease and could be inherited, depending on which type of gene was affected. In Junmyeon’s case, it was a mutation found in the Superoxide diase 1 (SOD1) gene, according to what Sehun had said.

Usually, a SOD1 mutation had an autosomal dominant inheritance pattern. In simple words, every child got a gene from each parent. If a defective gene was dominant, it was only necessary to have one copy of the gene to inherit the illness. So, the probabilities were that if one parent carried a mutated gene, two out of its four children would be affected too, since the other two will inherit the normal gene. That was why there was a fifty percent chance that Junmyeon might have the mutated gene.

ALS caused by mutations in SOD1, just like any type of ALS, had a wide variation when it came to the age of onset, how severe the illness was, which symptoms developed first, the rate of progression and duration. It was impossible to predict when one should start developing the sickness.

However, if the genetic testing’s results came back, and Junmyeon indeed had a mutation in SOD1, it didn’t mean he would develop ALS. The onset of the sickness was highly unpredictable, each case was unique, and in some cases, the symptoms never appeared. So, a positive test didn’t equal a diagnosis of ALS.

And for a moment, it had been soothing to hear that. For a moment. Because just like Sehun had said it, their family was cursed. Two people had already suffered the inevitable, and one more was on their way. What were the chances that Junmyeon, if he tested positive, wouldn’t follow the same path? There was just as much chance he’ll get ALS just as he wouldn’t. Nothing guaranteed his safety.

In the last part of their session, the genetics counselor explained more about presymptomatic genetic testing, how it worked to identify a SOD-1 gene and the consequences of learning the result. Proceeding with genetic testing could change Junmyeon’s life. The emotional and psychological impact could be devastating. She really tried to show him which cons and pros carrying out that genetic testing would bring.

In the end, Junmyeon decided to go on with the genetic testing, no matter how much it cost, how long it took, or what results came back. Junmyeon needed to know. So, they agreed to that.

Thus, began Junmyeon’s two unbearable waiting months.

The genetics counselor had advised Junmyeon to talk to someone close to him, a family member, a partner, or a friend that could be a supportive figure during this time. Junmyeon didn’t want to bother Yixing nor anyone else. He was strong enough to cope with it alone, why should he worry his fiancé and friends with something like that? What if the results came back negative and he had put someone through the pain in vain?

The only person he could talk to was his cousin, Sehun. But, even so, Junmyeon didn’t want to burden Sehun with his own fears and worries. Sehun was going through the same as him, and he realized Sehun was probably feeling worse than himself.

He could be strong.

Despite the shock and apprehension that were in the shadows, most days Junmyeon tried to think positively. He told himself that everything would turn out fine. He was going to test negative and would live a healthy life after that. It would be all right. He and Yixing would be okay. He tried to push away the fears and doubts by constantly thinking that everything would turn out fine. Everything had to turn out fine.

However, his nervousness didn’t pass unnoticed by Yixing. Lots of times Yixing had asked him what was going on with him. Lots of times Junmyeon had the chance to tell him everything. Lots of times Junmyeon had lied and put the blame on work and how their research was facing complications. Even in the future time, he would have lots of chances to come clean. But Junmyeon kept hiding it, every single time because he would only tell Yixing everything once the situation was confirmed to be fine.

And Yixing’s hugs and words of encouragement were always recomforting. As Junmyeon inhaled Yixing’s scent, held him tightly, and listened, he always thought about how much he loved him. He always thought of how lucky they were to be together. Of how happy they made each other, even if they sometimes fought. Of how life together was complete. And Junmyeon always wished that whenever those results came back, it would be fine.

In February one of Junmyeon’s worries was taken off his shoulders. Sehun called him. His test results were negative, Sehun didn’t carry a mutated SOD1-gene and neither would his children. Junmyeon was happy, relieved to hear a crying Sehun deliver the good news. He could have never imagined Sehun going through life with ALS. But some deep, dark part of Junmyeon had felt jealous, jealous that it hadn’t been him who got that news first. Rapidly, he shut down that inner thought.

The day Junmyeon had been waiting for finally arrived in March. The genetics counselor called. His results came back. She recommended him to bring a close family member with him, but Junmyeon still hadn’t said anything to Yixing. So, he arrived that afternoon at the clinic all by himself, with a fast-beating heart, sweaty palms, and his mind repeating his mantra that everything would be fine.

Now Junmyeon sat in her office room anxiously listening to what she had to say.

“How are you feeling today, Junmyeon?” she asked the first question.

Junmyeon was impatient and just wanted her to go straight to the point, but he still well-mannered replied to her questions. They talked some more about how Junmyeon had been feeling, what he thought about the whole situation, and if he felt prepared to listen. Again, Junmyeon had masked his worse fears and said these past months had been hard but bearable.

Until finally she said, “Junmyeon, I have in my hand the results of your genetic testing. I just want to make sure this is information you still want to know about.”

Effusively, Junmyeon nodded. Of course, he wanted to know. It was the only thing he had thought about ever since. “It is. Really, I’m sure of it.”

The genetics counselor nodded too. “Junmyeon, I’m sorry, but the test results are not what you were hoping for. The results came back positive for a SOD1 mutation.”

And then everything changed. Junmyeon gasped. He stared at her directly in the eyes but didn’t utter a sentence. He didn’t cry, scream, curse, or break down. Not yet. He was just quiet until he said one word. “What?”

And then she began explaining the results and how they found out that Junmyeon had a mutated SOD1-gene. The whole talk then shifted to ALS. And she tried to put emphasis that this wasn’t a diagnosis of ALS, only that he carried a defective gene mutation, prone to cause ALS. But even if Junmyeon were to develop the illness, she told him more about the condition, diagnosis, treatment, prognosis, and support.

Junmyeon listened attentively, he did. He asked questions when he needed to, he tried to remain calm through the rest of the conversation. Once the talk was finished, the genetics counselor scheduled another meeting for them in which they’ll discuss more Junmyeon’s well-being and doubts.

As Junmyeon walked out from the clinic and a fresh spring breeze hit his face, he felt his cheeks getting damp.

Everything wasn’t fine. Everything wouldn’t be fine.

What would he do if he tested positive?

During the waiting time, Junmyeon hadn’t even thought about that question. He had wanted to believe he didn’t have to think about it. Now though, in the aftermath, he had a different question in mind. Constantly.

What would he do when he got ALS?

There wasn’t an ‘if’ this time. Junmyeon believed he would get ALS one day. He knew the sickness will crawl unheard, unseen, and unwanted to destroy him. It was his inevitable fate, just like it had been for his aunt, uncle, and now, cousin.

But whenever Junmyeon would see Yixing smile, would hear him say ‘I love you, Jun,’ or would kiss, hold, and treasure him, he felt for a moment that everything would be all right for them. That in the future he and Yixing would be married with children he’d love unconditionally, living in some suburban house in Guangzhou, where he’d see those children grow up, make mistakes, fall in love. And finally, it would become the place where he and Yixing would grow old together. He wanted to believe they had this future together.

That dear envision was always shattered by the cruel fate that would come. Unavoidable suffering, that was his real future. And he was afraid. His own mind would come up with those thoughts. Thoughts that not even while sleeping he could avoid. It was a disheartening nightmare. One day he would trip while walking, and slowly it would get worse until he wouldn’t be able to control his leg movements, and lastly, he would end up in a wheelchair. Or maybe it would start with him being unable to buttoning his clothes, or unlocking the door because his arms would be too weak to do such a trivial thing. Or maybe the disease would prefer to start by taking his voice, making him unable to talk, swallow and eat, until he became a living skeleton. And all those scenarios and nightmares ended with him breathing through that thick tube, unable to move, to talk, and bedridden until his lungs would give up and he’ll simply die. And who was there to witness the decay of his soul and body? Yixing. Yixing was there, suffering just as much or maybe even worse than him.

Junmyeon thought about the question daily. He had heard, seen, and listened to everything related to ALS. During the talks with the genetics counselor or doctors, his research on the internet, him visiting patients with ALS, he knew what options he had when he developed the sickness. He took the time to weigh his options.

He thought about his and Yixing’s relationship. They had been through so much together. Falling in love in their youth. Meeting again. Recovering what they had lost. It had been the most wonderful five years of his life. They were going to get married next year. And Junmyeon loved Yixing so much, so much that he was willing to set him free from the hell that would come for him. None would ever love Yixing as he did, but none would ever hurt him as he would.

What would he do when he got ALS?

After careful meditation, Junmyeon had come up with his final answer.

The person who got to hear the answer was Sehun. Junmyeon called him, one night in May when he was entirely sure of what he was doing. It was the night that changed everything. The new apartment was ready. After Yixing had left for work, Junmyeon had rapidly packed his clothes and belongings in moving boxes that the moving company had already taken to his new house.

Right now, Junmyeon stood on the terrace, watching the skyline one last time. He took out his phone and dialed.

“Junmyeon.”

“Sehun, I’m about to do something horrible. But you must promise me you won’t say anything. You’ll be one of the persons Yixing will ask why, and you’ll know why. But promise me you won’t tell him why.”

“What do you mean Junmyeon? You’re scaring me. Have you still not talk to Yixing about your test results?”

“Sehun, promise me you won’t say anything, and I’ll explain.”

“Junmyeon what-”

“Promise me.”

He could hear Sehun sighing on the other end. “Okay, I’ll promise you, I won’t say anything.”

So, Junmyeon explained his two months journey, learning everything about ALS. After so much thought, he decided he didn’t want to suffer ALS and its fatal symptoms. And he won’t be suffering from ALS. Of course, there was only one way to avoid it. He’ll wait for a while after his diagnosis, but before he lost the ability to walk, then he’ll do it. Euthanasia was illegal, so Junmyeon had to do it himself.

“Oh my god, Junmyeon what are you thinking? You are not even sick yet, and you don’t know if you’ll get sick. You’re too hasty. I-I know you’re afraid of dying, I was there too. But oh my god. That’s… That’s…”

“You said it yourself Sehun, this family is cursed. And now I’m cursed. Sehun, I’m not afraid of dying, I just don’t want to suffer that horrible sickness. I don’t want to lose the ability to walk, breathe, move my arms, and talk and eat. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life bedridden. And I don’t want a ing tube sticking out my neck. That is no life. At all. You know it.”

Sehun fell into silence. The only sound he emitted was heavy breathings.

“I don’t want the pain. I don’t want to suffer. And I don’t want anyone I love to see me suffering.”

Then Junmyeon said what he was about to do that night. He will leave Yixing without an explanation. He will leave everything and everyone behind. He will make sure that Yixing stayed away from him. And next year, when his research project will come to an end, he’ll move back to Seoul, where he’d never see Yixing again in his life. He knew it would break Yixing’s heart, and that it’ll probably destroy him just as much as it would destroy Junmyeon to be without him. But later that suffering would turn into hate, and Junmyeon felt that hate was a far better companion than sorrow, especially the pain caused by seeing the one you love die. And then one day, Yixing would be loved again, and he would love someone too. Knowing this, even if it would no longer be him, gave Junmyeon some ease.

“How can you do this to him? For god’s sake Junmyeon, how can you keep this a secret from him? This is important! Don’t you love him? You can’t leave him out of this. He’d be there for you, I know that. He loves you, he deserves to know the truth.”

“Of course, I love him. And it’s because I love him I don’t want to keep fooling him with a forever that doesn’t exist. Yes, he’d be there with me when I get sick. But do you have any idea how painful it’d be for him? Do you remember how you felt when you saw your mother die before your eyes? And when I tell him what I’m planning to do to avoid it, that would be much worse.”

They had been together for a long time. Junmyeon knew Yixing inside out. He knew that Yixing wouldn’t accept that Junmyeon killed himself to avoid ALS. He’ll say that his life was a treasure, no matter the circumstances, he’ll ask why Junmyeon was being selfish and couldn’t think about the repercussions of his suicide. Yixing will probably try to persuade him to change his mind, but Junmyeon couldn’t imagine how much pain he’ll cause him when he said that he will never change his mind about it. Of course, there was a small possibility that Yixing might agree to his decision. But neither did Junmyeon want Yixing to be the one who found his dead cold body after his wrists bled to death or his body OD’d on some medicines or whatever way he decided to end his life with. He didn’t want to burden Yixing which such imagines. He didn’t want any of that. Yixing would be better off without knowing why.

“Sehun, you have always been like a little brother to me, and I love you. I’m so sorry for telling you this. But please, promise you won’t tell anyone about this. None. Not even Yixing. They would never understand it the way you do. So, promise me that… And that you’ll respect my choice when the time comes.”

Sehun whimpered. “I love you too, Junmyeon. This is so ed up, but seeing mom go through that and everything… If this is what you want, then I respect it. And I won’t say anything.”

When the phone call ended, Junmyeon saw the time. There was almost an hour left until Yixing’s return. He had to go now.

Junmyeon walked back inside the apartment. He strode around. He looked at the piano Yixing would play in the mornings. He looked at the pictures that hung on the walls, and thought of how and when they had taken them. He looked at the bedroom they had lived, at the bed in which they had made love countless times. He looked at the curtains that once had made them fight because Yixing liked bright colors and Junmyeon preferred pastel ones. He looked at the dinner table they had shared many meals, remembering their daily talks about anything. He looked at the kitchen and thought of how Yixing would sometimes make them dance while they cooked. He smiled at all the reminiscences.

His time with Yixing was ending, and Junmyeon just wanted to look at everything and remember it. As the years pass by, the only thing he’ll have left of Yixing will be the memories. Memories he wanted to treasure with all his heart. He’ll look back at his life one day and think, once, he had been happy, he had been loved, he had loved.

There were thirty minutes left now. Junmyeon grabbed a notepad and a pen from one of the kitchen drawers. How could he do this? He was about to throw the best thing that had ever happened in his life, the most amazing person he could ever love and be loved by, his one and only soulmate. Junmyeon tried to hold in his tears, but it was impossible. They poured down desperately, and in his solitude, they would keep falling in the upcoming three months. With all his strength, he wrote the only two sentences he could come up with.

‘I’m sorry, Yixing. I can’t do this anymore.’

But every written letter had given him a stabbing pain in his heart. He tore the paper and put it on the kitchen counter. Junmyeon held up his hand. The golden ring shone brightly. He took it off and placed it on top of the note. His hand felt empty, bare without the ring.

He walked to stand under the door frame, glancing one last time at the place he had once called home. His hand moved to caress his lips, remembering the last kiss Yixing’s lips had given him just hours ago, and the last time he had uttered, ‘I love you, Jun.’

“I love you, Xing. I really do. I’m sorry.”

Then, Junmyeon closed the door. He left as a part of his heart shattered with every step he took, and the tears kept falling unrestrained.