He let go to sit back on his feet. Only inches separated them, but it felt like an entire chasm had opened up in front of him. He knew that if he leapt to close the distance, he would fall too far into the deep, dark depths. It was too easy to love her—he always had—but where would that leave them? In less than a week, she might not remember him.
With a sigh, he shoved a hand through his hair and whispered, “What if you forget?”
Because that was a very real possibility. He’d heard it from her and then again from her parents. The surgery could take it all away, and he didn’t know if he could handle losing her a second time. Not like that. If he let her completely in and showed her just how much he cared, it would destroy him to not see any recognition in her eyes.
He pulled back farther. She didn’t need to answer—she knew the likelihood. She understood the fear without him saying it. He saw it in the way her gaze softened.
It was too much. All of it was too much.
Gavin stood from the bed, frantically looking from her to the bottle of pills on her bedside table. He took a step back and stumbled over the small trash can her mother had placed on the floor next to the bed “just in case.” Because the pain often made her nauseous, as did the medicine. There was no getting around feeling sick it seemed.
He gulped down a breath, shaking his head.
Lila moved to sit on the edge of the bed. “Please don’t do this.”
Her words gutted him. He knew he didn’t have a right to react that way. The surgery would save her life. The possibility of losing her memory was worth the risk, but that didn’t make it easier.
“I just need…” What did he need? He didn’t know. To scream? To punch something? “Time. I just need some time.”
“Gavin,” she called as he turned and ran out the door.
He didn’t stop. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the Westons’ living room and hesitated. Lila’s Mom looked up in alarm from her spot on the couch. She started to rise, but he didn’t wait for her to speak. He bolted out the door.
He stormed across both front yards until he was back in his own house. His mom shouted his name, but he ignored her. He quickly made his way up to his room and slammed the door shut before toppling face first onto his bed. He grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, trying to let out the hopeless frustration building up inside.
A knock sounded on his door, but he didn’t move. He heard it open, then the bed shifted beside him.
“It’s going to be okay,” his mother said, running a hand through his hair.
He turned to face her. “But what if it isn’t?”
She seemed to think about it for a moment. Her shoulder dropped as she exhaled. “Then, you start over.”
His brow scrunched as her words processed. Start over. He sat up, holding the pillow in his lap. “What?”
She nodded. “Just because she might forget the past doesn’t mean there can’t be a future.”
He let out a breath as his vision blurred. It hadn’t occurred to him that if she didn’t remember him, they could just start over. It didn’t have to be the end. Even if they were just friends, he’d take it. As long as she was in his life.
A thought struck him. “You knew.”
His mom nodded.
“How long have you known?” Then, another realization hit. “That’s why you wanted me to work with her.”
With a sigh, she pulled up one knee to turn toward him more. “I found out about six months ago, shortly after the test results.”
“Six months?!”
She plucked the pillow from his lap and hugged it to her chest. “They caught it early. It’s small enough that it’s not doing damage other than causing headaches, which are mostly under control. She started chemo over Christmas break, trying to avoid an invasive procedure, but she had a bad reaction to it. Well, worse than normal. It’s rare, but apparently it does happen. They did some more scans and determined surgery was the best option. It will be fairly easy to remove. The biggest risk is her memory, so she begged them to wait until after graduation.”
Each word twisted his insides more and more. He covered his face with his hands and let out a frustrated groan.
“It wasn’t severe enough that waiting a few months would cause more damage. She’s been going to get scans every other week since then to keep an eye on it. Other than the headaches, it hasn’t progressed. The pain only just started getting severe, but the surgery is already scheduled. They didn’t see an immediate need to bump it up a few weeks unless they couldn’t get it under control.”
The headaches. He’d seen her rubbing her temple throughout the last week, but he assumed it was just a tick of hers—something she did when tired or annoyed with him. He never expected she was in actual pain. She even brushed off her headache in Chicago like it was nothing.
“You had me start working with her on purpose. Did the other girls really quit?”
“No, they’re on vacation. They’ll be back in a few days.”
“But you’re training Kaley?” He stood from the bed, unable to look at the guilt filling her eyes. His voice dropped. “She’s Lila’s replacement.”
“It was her idea. The job will still be there for her if she wants it.”
Gripping the ends of his hair, Gavin leaned against the corner of his dresser. His hands fell to his sides as he asked, “So why send me in there to work with her?”
“Did you know that when you were five years old, you told me you were going to marry her?” He shook his
