“Myla, stop,” Nichole says, sounding tired.

“Stop what? I’m just trying to—”

“You’re trying to over plan and keep yourself busy so you don’t have to focus on the tough things happening around you.” She turns her head and looks me in the eyes. “Myla, I’m dying. It’s as simple as that.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You’re not.”

“I am. I’m doing the chemo because I feel like I should. But I know what’s going on in my body, and what’s happening doesn’t feel right.”

I wipe away my tears and move in closer. “It feels weird now, but it will get better. It will, Nichole.”

She clasps my hand tightly and says, “I need you to not worry about me. I know I called you here, but that’s because I truly believe you deserve to know the truth about everything, but I don’t want you changing your life for this.”

“I’m not,” I say. “I was going to move here in a couple of days anyway.”

“Were you?” she asks with a raise of her brow. “Because last we chatted, you were leaning toward staying with Ryot and giving him another chance.”

“No” is on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell her that’s not the truth, that I was just saying goodbye to him over the past few days and was always going to move back to Chicago. But that would be a lie.

Because if I were truly honest with myself, I was planning to have a conversation with Nichole about how I was going to stay in California.

But now that she’s sick, that fleeting thought has changed.

“I was thinking about it,” I answer her. “But it wasn’t set in stone, and now that I know what’s going on with you, that has solidified my choice.”

“Myla, you love him.”

I swallow hard and look away because I know it’s the truth. Even though I’ve held back from admitting it to him, I do love him, so much. And these past few days have proved that. He’s paid attention to me. Listened. Learned. The awe in his voice as he looked over my designs still brings tears to my eyes. I felt so united with him at that moment. And I also saw changes within him that I never thought could change. Simple things like eating waffles for breakfast. And the fact that his reaction to the ESPN opportunity wasn’t a solid yes without talking to me about it. I haven’t felt as alone as I had been feeling.

Just then, there’s a knock on the door, and I look up to see Ryot standing to the side, hands in his pockets. The entire flight here, he never once released my hand. He kept whispering that everything was going to be okay, that he was there for me. And when we arrived here, before he took off for the waiting room, he gave me the softest kiss.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the nurse said she was going to kick us out soon since visiting hours are actually over.”