He smiled back at me, his expression filled with satisfaction. “You’re incredible, aggelé mou,” he murmured, pulling me closer. “And I promise, next time, it’ll be even better for you.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
12
“I love sunrises,” Tia said, “because there was a time when I wasn’t sure how many more I’d experience.”
We’d come down to the beach before the dawn to catch the sunrise. We lay on blankets with Tia tucked safely in my arms. Last night had been incredible. I was still in awe of the gift she’d given me.
I shifted to look into her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I was diagnosed with nephroblastoma when I was seven… It’s a cancerous tumor originating inthe kidney.”
My grip tightened around her waist. The gentle rhythm of the waves suddenly seemed too loud in the silence that followed her words.
“Cancer?” My voice came out rough. “You had cancer as a kid?”
She nodded, her gaze shifting from mine to the horizon where the first golden rays were splitting the darkness. “For almost two years, my parents and I lived in hospitals. Surgeries, chemo, radiation... it was brutal.”
“That’s... intense.”
“It was,” she admitted. “But it shaped me. Made me who I am. Made my mom who she is.”
Her mother’s overprotectiveness suddenly made sense. It must have been difficult to witness her daughter’s agony and not being able to do anything about it. She must want to keep her in a bubble to keep the world’s dangers away.
I suddenly wondered about my father and his brand of protection. He may not have me in a bubble like Tia’s mother, but he always ensured my soft landing from my carelessness.
The sky was transforming now, indigo giving way to streaks of amber and rose. Tia watched the sunrise with a quiet appreciation.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Don’t look at me differently now,” she warned. “I’m not fragile.”
“Fragile?” I laughed softly. “Aggelé mou, you’re the strongest person I know.”
The sunrise blazed fully now, painting the water in shimmering gold. Tia’s face glowed, more beautiful than anything I’d ever seen.
“What about your dad? You said your parents were there, but you only ever mention your mom.”
Tia’s body tensed against mine and the brightness of her face dimmed. “Enough about me. Tell me about your childhood.”
I heard myself say, “I killed my mother.”
Tia stiffened in my arms, turning to look at me with wide eyes.
“She died giving birth to me and my sister,” I clarified. “Complications during delivery. My twin died as well. My father never remarried.” Which gave him all the time in the world to focus on me.
“Santo,” she whispered, reaching up to touch my face. “That’s not killing. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Logically, I know that. But...” I swallowed hard, surprised by how difficult it was to continue. “It’s hard not to feel responsible.”
Tia shifted in my arms until she was straddling me. “Thank you for telling me,” she said, echoing my earlier words.
“Don’t look at me differently now,” I said, attempting a smile.
“I won’t. But you’re still an irresponsible jerk.”
“An irresponsible jerk, huh?”
