Page 4

I sigh and lower my book again.

“So, when?”

Damiano stops arguing with Dex and turns to me, his smile growing so fucking wide you’d think he just won the lottery.

“I knew you’d say yes.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“You said deal. Same thing.”

“Two weeks of chores.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

That summer ended up being one of my favorites, filled with sleepovers in the treehouse and racing horses until one of our parents yelled at us to slow the fuck down. We managed to put together an old bike, got drunk for the first time, and somewhere in between all of it, I had my first kiss with the girl from the triple date Damiano had to bribe me with two weeks of chores to attend.

We were becoming men, or at least we thought we were, learning how far we could push the boundaries, getting into trouble and making the kind of memories we were sure we’d laugh about for years.

Little did we know that summer would be the last one we ever spent together, because the next summer, at sixteen, Damiano would move to Chicago.

Damiano

Twenty-five years old

You don't expect her, death.

She comes unannounced, uninvited, battles with hope for a while, then kicks her out and leaves you standing there, face to face with the one thing everyone spends their entire life pretending isn't real.

The end.

I wish I could say I was okay with it.

That I was ready. That I'd found some bigger meaning in all of this.

But I'd be lying.

And seeing as I don't have much time left, I figure the least I can do is be honest.

Truth is, death sucks. Hard.

As I look down at my wife, my baby, my best friend, the other half of my soul… sleeping with her head on my chest and her hand curled around mine, I run my free hand through her dark hair, trying to memorize the feeling of it slipping between my fingers. The tubes pull when I move and my arm aches from the effort, but I don't care because soon I won't be able to do this anymore.

Touch her. Smell her.

Live her.

Nora.

I still remember the first time I saw her, and that was it. One look and my heart shaped itself around her so completely that every other girl seemed to stop existing in my eyes.

There was only her.

Damiano

Sixteen years old

"I hate this place. Why did we have to leave Wyoming?"