She grabbed my hand and held on tight. “Don’t leave, okay?”
“Never,” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And in that moment, I felt every empty space in my heart fill up.
The first month flew by in a blur of hospital appointments and medication schedules. We learned each other’s rhythms. I discovered Lila loved strawberry pancakes and hated oatmeal. She discovered I couldn’t carry a tune but sang anyway.
Some mornings, she’d wake up too weak to get out of bed, and we’d spend the day on the couch watching movies. Other days, she’d insist on baking cookies even though half the ingredients ended up on the floor.
We were finding our way together, one quiet moment at a time.
Then, on a Wednesday morning exactly one month after she moved in, everything changed.
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