The air had smelled like summer that night- thick with lilacs, warm with the buzz of fireflies.
Michael had stolen me away from the noise of the graduation bonfire, tugging me by the wrist as though he already had some secret he was desperate to share. I'd stumbled after him, my sandals scraping the dirt path, breathless half from running and half from being near him.
"Michael Locke, if you drag me into the woods and I end up tripping on a raccoon, I'll murder you," I said though my heart was hammering too hard for the threat to sound serious.
He only laughed- that boyish, reckless laugh of his- and shot me a grin over his shoulder. His hair was too long back then, curling into his eyes, and he had the kind of confidence that made people want to follow him anywhere.
"You love me too much to kill me, Milla," he teased. "Besides, if you do, who'll steal snacks for you from the supermarket?"
When he finally stopped, it was in the middle of a clearing, where the moonlight poured silver over the grass. He didn't let go of my hand though, and I felt my pulse climb into my throat.
"You brought me out here for… moonlight? Really?" I asked, trying to mask how nervous. "You do realize it's literally the same moon everywhere, right?"
He tilted his head, studying me like he always did, like I was some riddle he wanted to solve. "You talk too much when you're nervous."
"I'm not nervous."
Michael stepped closer, and for the first time I noticed just how tall he was compared to me, how broad his shoulders had already gotten even though he was only eighteen. He was smiling that half smile, the one that made it impossible to look anywhere else.
"Then stop talking," he whispered and he took a step closer, our bodies a breath away.
And before I could argue, his lips brushed mine.
The world went quiet. No fireflies, no laughter from the bonfire, no pulse of crickets- just the dizzying, headlong rush of being kissed by my best friend.
I gasped against his mouth, and he pulled back, eyes searching mine with a flicker of fear I'd never seen on him before. "Too fast?" he asked, suddenly boyish again.
It broke me into a laugh, giddy and shaky. "You literally just ambushed me, Mikey."
"Ambushed is a strong word, Mi lady." His grin returned, cocky and unrepentant. "I'd call it… a strategic takeover."
I shoved his shoulder, but he caught my wrist, pulling me back in, and this time I didn't fight him. I kissed him until my head spun, until I knew without doubt that Michael Locke would always... always be the gravity in my world.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The beeping woke me up.
The clearing, the fireflies, his mouth on mine... it all bled away into the sterile white light of a hospital room. My throat was dry, my chest tight, and every inch of me ached as though I'd been run over.
I stared at a white ceiling with a brown water stain shaped like a crooked heart. The smell of antiseptic sat heavy in the air. My throat felt like sandpaper. There was a tight pinch in the crook of my arm and a cuff on my bicep that squeezed, released, squeezed again.
Then the memories rushed in all at once. Chandeliers. Cameras. Vincent Calder's smirk. Micheal's arm hard around my waist. The floor tilting. The sound of glass hitting marble. Darkness.
I tried to sit but a hand pressed gently to my shoulder.
"Easy, Mrs. Locke. The world will still be here if you take twelve seconds to rejoin it."
The voice was warm and amused in a way that made it feel safe to breathe.
I turned my head. A man in navy scrubs stood beside my bed, chart in one hand, pen behind his ear. Dark blond hair in a mess that said he had fixed it with his fingers. Eyes the color of leaves after rain. He had a badge clipped to his pocket: ELIAS ROWAN, RN.
"Water," I croaked.
He lifted the straw to my lips like he had been waiting for that word all morning. "Sip slowly. I would like to keep you, my boss has a thing about patients not aspirating on my watch."
The first swallow hurt. The second was heaven. I shut my eyes and took two more. When I opened them, he was studying the monitor with a frown that did not match his easy tone.
"How do you feel?" he asked.
"Like I tried to wrestle wild boar and lost."
He nodded as if that was a normal patient response. "You fainted at a party. I am told this is called a dramatic exit." A small smile before he continued, "Your blood pressure was immensely high so we ran a few tests."
"Michael…?" I rasped. "Is he... did he… come with me?"
Elias hesitated for just a second too long. Then he gave me a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No. He didn't."
Heat climbed up my neck. "He was at the gala."
"I figured. The EMT said you collapsed on stage steps. Security brought you out the back. The driver said he was instructed to follow their lead. We paged the first number on your contact sheet. No answer. We paged the second. Your sister. She's on her way."
My chest gave a small, traitorous ache. I nodded like the information meant nothing. It meant everything. He hadn't come. He hadn't even answered his phone.
"Don't look like that. I've seen plenty of husbands freak out at hospitals. Some guys faint at the sight of a needle, some bolt at the smell of antiseptic. Who knows? Maybe he's just hiding in the parking lot, breathing into a paper bag."
His attempt at humor tugged the corner of my mouth despite the sting in my eyes. "You're terrible."
"Terribly handsome, yes. Thank you for noticing."
The door opened then, and my sister rushed in, eyes wide, hair a mess. "Camilla!" she gasped, hurrying to my bedside.
I managed a weak smile. "Hey, Cor."
She gripped my hand, squeezing tight as though to keep me tethered. "You scared me half to death. One second I'm swamped at work, the next I get a call saying you collapsed at a gala. What the hell, Cam?!"
"I didn't exactly plan it," I murmured.
Elias lifted his brows. "Don't worry, sis, I've been keeping her entertained with my sparkling personality."
Corinne gave him a flat look. "Great. Just what she needs. A comedian in scrubs."
Elias clutched his chest in mock injury. "Cruel. But fair."
She turned back to me."Dr. Harper said they're running more tests. She said not to panic and ofcourse I immediately panicked."
"I heard hematology," I whispered.
Corinne's mouth trembled. "Me too."
We sat in the humming quiet. A monitor beeped an alarm somewhere down the hall. A voice paged a code to a different floor. The hospital was a city that never slept and never stopped moving. I thought of the day Micheal and I had first walked into a hospital together. He had sprained his wrist jumping on the bed and refused to tell the doctor about it because he insisted the doctor would laugh. I immediately told on him. He'd glared. Later he had kissed my throat in the parking lot and told me I was a traitor and also probably the reason he would live to be thirty.
Elias came back with a small cup of ice chips and a larger attempt at casual. "Hematology is on their way. They're friendly. They have pens that actually work. We like them."
Corinne sniffed in a way that said she was trying not to cry again. Elias handed her a tissue without looking like he was handing her a tissue. He had a way of letting people keep their dignity while helping anyway. I stored the observation away for later, the way I stored everything now that words on paper felt like all I had control over.
Eventually, the door opened again. This time it was the doctor, middle-aged, clipboard in hand, his expression professional but grim.
"Mrs. Locke," he said, stepping in.
Something about his tone made the air in the room heavy.
Corrine straightened, her hand tightening around mine. Elias, for once, didn't crack a joke.
The doctor exhaled, scanning his notes. "We've run the tests from your collapse. The results are back."
I swallowed, my heart pounding. "And?"
He looked at me directly, no softness, no way to misunderstand.
"It's cancer."