“I’m planning for her to finally understand,” he added, and there was something in his tone that made my chest tighten, not with anger, but with recognition.
I nodded without realizing it, because I remembered too, the quiet hospital rooms, the smell of antiseptic, the way Lily used to touch her own thinning hair.
That night, after he went to bed, I stayed in the kitchen alone, opening old folders on my laptop, scrolling through videos I hadn’t watched in months.
There was one of Lily sitting in the hospital bed, pale but smiling, as Leo stood beside her, gently placing one of his curls against her cheek.
“I’ll keep mine until yours grows back,” he had said, voice small but steady, like he was making a promise bigger than he could fully understand.
I paused the video there, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, feeling the weight of that moment press against the present like something unfinished.
