This is the answer I hate the most. The one I try to avoid thinking about as much as possible, even though it’s always in the back of my mind.

I clear my throat. “Technically, it’s anything before sixty-five years old, but some cases can be in the thirties, forties, or fifties.” The youngest case ever recorded was a twenty-three-year-old man. I’ve thought about this man more times than I can count.

Aaron drags a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“And… And if you do get it, how long until…”

“People can survive years with AD. The lifespan is usually shorter with eFAD, though.” I swallow. “My mom’s a unique case, in that sense.”

He frowns. “I thought your mom had passed.”

“I know. I’m sorry for not saying anything.” Not meeting his eyes, I say, “I didn’t correct you before because in a way, I did lose my mother.” The most important way that counts, really. Her body is still there, sure, but my mom isn’t.

“I can’t…” He gets to his feet, then crosses his arms behind his head.

He looks too affected by this. As if I just told him someone in his family would develop AD.

Is it because of the legal case?

“Don’t worry, though,” I reassure him. “It’s not like I won’t have the time to complete my contract. I wouldn’t have accepted it if I didn’t think I could.”

He spins to me. “I don’t give a fuck about that right now.” His head shakes quickly. “I just can’t believe that someone like you…” He doesn’t complete his sentence.

“I’ve made my peace with it.” Accepted that I wouldn’t be here for long, and took all the precautions that come with that. Still do.

“But you shouldn’t have had to.” His eyes bore into mine. “I’m so fucking sorry, Wren. I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

My mouth twitches to the side. “Thanks.”

Finally, he comes to sit back down and says, “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

I nod. It feels weird to have the fact out in the open. Kind of like getting naked, but knowing at the same time that the person will hold a cover to your body whenever you need it.

“And you probably have other people to talk to,” he adds, which almost makes me want to laugh, “but if you need an extra set of ears, I’m here, okay?” His fingers land on my wrist, warm and newly calloused. Goose bumps cover my skin. “I’m always here.”

“Thank you.”

He gives me a smile that is nowhere near his typical Aaron smiles, but the fact that he’s able to grin for me right now makes me realize walking away from him after his father’s case is done will be a lot harder than I’d once imagined.

Chapter 14