Chapter 3
I saw him again the next day.
It wasn't fate. It was just that being cooped up in the hospital was driving me crazy, and being alone with my thoughts was even worse.
I had asked a nurse about the boy.
They called him a spoiled brat from a powerful family, one they were all terrified of upsetting.
Apparently, he spent his days causing minor catastrophes that his family's secretary was paid to clean up. It sounded like a soap opera, and I was bored enough to watch.
When I got to the garden, he was, predictably, in the middle of making trouble. He was trying to climb an impossibly tall tree to pick some weird-looking berries.
His caretaker was having a meltdown below. "Sir, no! Those are poisonous! You really can't eat them!"
The boy, Ryan Sterling, completely ignored him, plucked a berry, and was about to pop it in his mouth.
"You know," I said casually, "eating those can mess with your libido."
He spat the berry out so fast it was a blur. His face went pale.
"For real?"
"Yep."
He stared at me for a moment, commenting suddenly, "I remember you. You were here yesterday. What are you in for?"
I pointed to my chest, replying, "Breast cancer. You?"
He said, "Slipped on my way to the bathroom last night. Broke my fall with my head. Concussion."
I persuaded, "Oh. Well, maybe you should get down from there, then. In case you get dizzy."
To my surprise, he actually climbed down. He walked over, and it was only then that I realized how tall he was.
Honestly, he looked like he was all brawn and no brains.
"Wait, you really have cancer?" he asked.
"Yeah," I replied.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
"It's manageable."
I grinned, deciding to tease him, "Compared to me, you've got it pretty good, huh?"
He pouted, replying reluctantly, "Yeah."
"So maybe cut your parents some slack," I said gently. "Life's too short not to be happy every day."
Before the cancer, I thought being an orphan was the worst thing in the world. Then I thought loving someone who would never truly love you back was worse.
Now, on the verge of losing my life, I finally understood: just being alive is a reason to be happy.
Ryan just stared at me for a long time without saying a word.
The next day, he showed up with a small gift box.
"This is for you," he said. "You have to get better, and you have to be happy every day."
I opened it. Inside was an exquisite silver swan brooch. I pinned it to my drab hospital gown and smiled at him.
"You're a sweet kid, you know that?"
He blushed and scratched the back of his neck.
"My grandma died of breast cancer," he admitted quietly. "When I saw you under the tree yesterday, I don't know, but you reminded me of her.
"She was the best person in the world. I grew up with her, and ever since she died, I've just felt empty. Nothing I do seems to fix it.
"When you said that thing about being happy every day... that's what she always used to tell me."
As he spoke, his eyes welled up. He looked like he was about to cry.
"Uh," I offered awkwardly, "if you want, I can give you a hug."
"Thanks," he mumbled.
He was all lanky arms and legs, but he wrapped them around me in a gentle hug. When he pulled back, he had a shy grin on his face.
"So, I guess we're friends now, huh?"