It was the third moment that defined my life. The night I found out I would lose the girl I loved. Knowing our moments together were numbered, I held on to her tighter, refusing to let go.
She fell asleep doing exactly the same…
…a powerful echo of who we used to be.
* * *
The sound of rustling woke me.
I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Poppy’s quiet silhouette drifted toward the window. “Poppymin?”
Poppy halted, then finally looked back at me. I swallowed, chasing away the razor blades in my throat, as Poppy came to stand before me. She was wearing a thick parka coat over track pants and a sweater. A backpack lay at her feet.
I frowned. It was still dark.
“What are you doing?”
Poppy made her way back to the window, looking back to playfully ask, “Are you coming?”
She grinned at me and my heart cracked. It splintered at how beautiful she was. My lips curved upward at her infectious happiness, and I asked again, “Where the hell are you going?”
Poppy pulled back the curtain and pointed at the sky. “To watch the sunrise.” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at me. “I know it’s been a while, but did you forget I did this?”
A wave of warmth flowed through me. I hadn’t forgotten.
Getting to my feet, I allowed myself a small huff of a laugh. I immediately stopped. Poppy noticed, and sighing sadly, she walked back to me. I glanced down at her, wanting nothing more than to wrap my hand around the nape of her neck and take her mouth with my own.
Poppy studied my face, then took my hand. Taken aback, I stared down at her fingers, wrapped around mine. They looked so small as they gently squeezed my hand.
“It’s okay, you know?” she said.
“What?” I asked, edging closer.
Poppy’s grip stayed on my hand as the other lifted toward my face. She rose to her tiptoes and laid her fingertips on my lips.
My heart beat a little faster.
“It’s okay to laugh,” she said, her voice as soft as a feather. “It’s okay to smile. It’s okay to feel happy. Or what’s the point in life?” What she was saying hit me hard. Because I didn’t want to do or feel those things. I felt guilty just thinking about being happy.
“Rune,” Poppy said. Her hand drifted down to rest on the side of my neck. “I know how you must be feeling. I’ve dealt with this for a while now. But I also know how it makes me feel seeing my favorite people in the world, the ones that I love with my whole heart, hurt and upset.”
Poppy’s eyes shone. It made me feel worse. “Poppy…,” I went to say, covering her hand with my own.
“It’s worse than any pain. It’s worse than facing death. Seeing my illness leech the joy from those I love is the worst thing of all.” She swallowed, drew in a soft breath, and whispered, “My time is limited. We all know that. So I want that time to be special…” Poppy smiled. And it was one of her wide, bright smiles. The kind that could make even an angry guy like me see a sliver of light. “As special as special can be.”
And so I smiled.
I let her see the happiness she brought out in me. I let her see that those words—the words from our childhood—had broken through the dark.
At least for the moment.
“Freeze,” Poppy suddenly said. I did. A slight giggle left her throat.
“What?” I asked, still holding her hand.
“Your smile,” she replied and playfully dropped her mouth as if in shock. “It’s still there!” she whispered, dramatically. “I thought it was a mythical legend like Sasquatch or the Loch Ness Monster. But it’s there! I’ve witnessed it with my own eyes!”
Poppy framed her face with her hands and batted her eyelashes in exaggeration.