Copyright © 2025 by Tammy Subia

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. No part of this book may be used in the training of AI. For more information, address: [email protected].

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover art by Sarah Jane @ illustriousjane

Contents

Author's Note

Dedication

PROLOGUE

1. CHAPTER ONE

2. CHAPTER TWO

3. CHAPTER THREE

4. CHAPTER FOUR

5. CHAPTER FIVE

6. CHAPTER SIX

7. CHAPTER SEVEN

8. CHAPTER EIGHT

9. CHAPTER NINE

10. CHAPTER TEN

11. CHAPTER ELEVEN

12. CHAPTER TWELVE

13. CHAPTER THIRTEEN

14. CHAPTER FOURTEEN

15. CHAPTER FIFTEEN

16. CHAPTER SIXTEEN

17. CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

18. CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

19. CHAPTER NINETEEN

20. CHAPTER TWENTY

21. CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

22. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

23. CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

24. CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

25. CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

26. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

27. CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

28. CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

30. EPILOGUE

Also by Tammy Subia

About the Author

Author's Note

While the overall tone of this book is light, it does deal with topics that may be potentially upsetting for some readers. POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD.

Loss of parents (off-page, in past)

Loss of best friend (off-page)

Discussion of possible homophobia

Dedication

For anyone who cries at Luke's speech in the last episode of Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life.

And for anyone who has read and supported Heartbreak Honey. It means everything to me. (Hope you enjoy the references.)

PROLOGUE

BRENDEN

I hate hospitals.

Hospitals smell like sick people, they have ugly fluorescent lights that highlight the sick people’s sick faces, and people go into hospitals and don’t come out. That’s what happened to my parents less than a year ago, and now it’s happening again. To my best friend.

I can’t lose April too. I can’t.

But I’m going to.

And knowing it ahead of time doesn’t make it any easier.

Although I guess there’s no easy way to lose people. Whether it’s sudden like a car crash or slowly like with a terminal disease... the ending is the same.

The nurse at the desk points me toward the correct wing, and I steel myself before walking through the giant automatic doors. As much as I don’t want to do this, I need to remember that this isn’t about me. This is about April, and she wants to see me. I want to see her too, only I’m worried that I won’t be able to hold it together in front of her.

Since hearing the news, the final verdict—about a month to live—I’ve cried so much that hopefully I’ll have no tears left to spill in front of her.