Lunging forward with as much strength as I could muster, I swiped at the cupcakes, the mixing bowls, the ingredients, everything, watching as it all went crashing to the floor in an almighty clatter before I went down with it straight after. As I buried my tear-streaked face into my hands, I cried for everything I’d lost. Momma, college, Nash, my life as I’d known it. It felt as if everything was falling apart and there was nothing I could do about it.

But then, something I hadn’t expected. I startled from my sobs by the sound of scuffing footsteps coming from the doorway through to the kitchen. Wiping my eyes, I sniffled, looking up, and my jaw dropped as fresh tears fell.

No, I thought to myself. It couldn’t possibly be him.

With sad eyes, he offered a lopsided smile I could tell was for my benefit only. I could see the pain his own smile caused him deep within his sad eyes. But still, he smiled. And, with a slightly staggered limp, he took another step forward.

“Hey, Murph.”

“Harley?” My voice croaked through my emotion as I looked him up and down. He was skinnier than I’d ever seen him look. His cheeks were hollow, and he had dark circles beneath his eyes. Dressed in a faded T-shirt and basketball shorts that hung low on his narrow waist, I zeroed in on the knee braces securing each of his knees, and the crutch he kept himself upright with, secured under his left arm.

“W-what are you d-doing here?” I gasped, scrambling back up to my feet. “I thought you were still in hospital!”

“I discharged myself.” He nodded, looking me up and down before his glassy eyes met mine. “I needed to come home …”

I stared at him as tears pricked my eyes and emotion overwhelmed every fiber of my being. There, before me, stood a boy so broken, inside and out. After losing everything he’d worked so hard for all his life, at a time when he should’ve been recovering, here he was.

A sob escaped me, but I didn’t care anymore. The tears flowed freely, streaming down my cheeks as I ran across the kitchen as fast as I could, crashing into his chest. And, with our arms wrapped around one another so tight, I’m sure neither of us could breathe properly. I cried against his chest, feeling some semblance of comfort in the familiarity and warmth he provided, and for the first time since losing Momma, I didn’t feel alone.

Pulling myself from my overwhelming thoughts, I look to where Nash and Anna are laughing and giggling together, and I sigh, looking down at my hands as I think of the past five years. That phone call hadn’t been the end of mine and Nash’s relationship. We managed to drag it out for longer than we should have, and I don’t even know why. It was hell for the both of us. Visiting one another when we had the time and the money. Talking as much as we could over the phone. But then, our conversations became labored, forced. And our visits became few and far between. Although it was obvious where we were heading, we’d each been too stubborn to end it. Unfortunately, our ending came long after both our hearts had been broken.