“I remember the doctor coming in, Ethan. He, a professional, looked sad, and I just broke down that day,” I whimper, remembering how my mother, and I had gone in because she’d passed out. “They put her on chemo after he told us she didn’t have much longer, and I got one more year with her before she passed.”
The ache in my chest spreads, climbing up my throat until I’m choking on the memories.
“Hey, hey,” Ethan murmurs, cupping my cheeks and brushing the falling tears. “I’m sorry for pulling up these bad memories.”
Shaking my head, I lift my eyes. I’m glad he asked. I don’t get to talk about my mom much, so even though it hurts, I’m glad he asked. My tears soak through his shirt, but he only pulls me closer.
Ethan seems to understand my thoughts because he leans in, brushing his lip
