The lights went low, and a few colored beams strobed across the floor, passing across the bodies of the skaters who circled the rink. The beat of the song, the feel of Lauren’s hand wrapped around his, and the sudden darkness in the room did something to him. When they came around a narrow curve near the wall, on the opposite side of the benches and social area, Andrew veered off course, successfully slowing enough that when his shoulder hit the wall it barely stung. Following his momentum, Lauren collided with him, cushioned by his body.

She yelped as their skates crashed together. He put his arms around her as he braced his back against the wall to keep them on their feet.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to pull back and look up at him. “Did you lose control?”

Andrew gazed down at her in the darkness. The music pulsed around them and people continued to glide by, either not noticing them embracing in the corner, or not caring.

“Yeah. I kind of think I have.” He kissed her, loving the way she responded with enthusiasm, even here. He wasn’t typically one to put on public displays of affection, but he’d also never been this into a woman before. He forgot about everything else when he was with her. They could have done anything tonight, and as long as she was there, he wouldn’t worry about tomorrow.

When he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue she sighed, opening to him, and a passing skater called out, “Get a room!”

They broke apart, Andrew’s eyes searching the crowd for whoever had said that, wanting to tell him to mind his own damn business. Lauren giggled and pressed her face to his chest.

The song ended and the lights flipped on. Lauren slid back a few inches and grabbed his hand, her eyes bright and happy.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s skate some more, and then we’ll go get ice cream.”

Andrew didn’t want to move an inch from this spot. He wanted to stay here and hold her but he sighed and said, “Okay, gorgeous. You lead, I’ll follow.”

It was one of the truest statements he’d ever said.

…

The next morning, Lauren was waiting for him immediately after his PET scan, and her presence gave him strength. A year ago, if someone had told him he would live his life in sections of time—revolving around chemo appointments and scans, he’d have looked at them like they were crazy. But here he was, doing exactly that. And he prayed that after today, he’d be finished with it all.