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Chapter 1
Kristian
I counted the days. I can’t remember the last time I was so excited for something to happen that I counted the fucking days. I did that leading up to today, the day Aileen and her kids, Logan and Maddie, officially move to LA. I first met them in January when they came for Flynn and Natalie’s wedding. Before Natalie’s life blew up after she got together with Flynn, she was Logan’s teacher. Aileen was sick with breast cancer then, and Natalie was a good friend to her and her kids.
The first time I saw Aileen at the wedding, she was painfully thin with deep, dark circles under her eyes and the shortest hair I’d ever seen on a woman. I found out later that was because she’d lost her hair during chemo, and it had started to grow back. I remember wondering about the odd haircut and then feeling guilty when I found out why her hair was so short.
But the signs of her illness aren’t what I remember most about my friend’s wedding day. No, it was Aileen’s joyfulness that stood out. I’d never met a woman who had such incandescent light about her, even during what had to be some of the darkest and most difficult days of her life. She was, even in the throes of illness, so beautifully alive.
I was drawn to her like the proverbial moth to flame, and like a moth that doesn’t know enough not to fly directly into the heat, I was unable to resist talking to her, getting to know her and nurturing an immediate and unprecedented attraction. The heat of that attraction swallowed me whole, and I was powerless to walk away. I let the attraction grow and flourish into friendship over subsequent visits, including the one in which I helped to convince her that she and the kids ought to move from New York to LA to live near us. Hayden offered her a job at Quantum, and we all encouraged her to take the leap.
And then I counted the fucking days.
Afficher en entierEn poussant un gémissement, je laisse ma tête tomber entre mes mains, et me balance d'avant en arrière tandis que mon téléphone sonne encore.
Je ne peux pas. C'est simple, je ne peux pas.
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