Page 74 of Seven Minutes
“Promise me I’ll never have to wonder about our future. You and I, we’re solid. Forever. No crisis, no argument, nothing… Nothing will ever make me question where we stand.”
I’d said, “Promise.” Because how could he question my loveand my loyalty? Adrian was everything. Everything that mattered. Nothing would change that.
And when I woke, I was still in his arms. His hair tickled my cheek, his breath warm against my throat. I snuggled closer, reveling in the feel of him.
Morning crept in slowly, casting pale stripes across the sheets. The world felt quieter than it had in months. I closed my eyes and listened to his heartbeat, steady and alive beneath my palm, and thought about all the times I’d taken that sound for granted.
We weren’t the same people who’d made those promises under a fading sky. But that didn’t make them less true. Maybe love wasn’t about keeping the world from falling apart; it was about finding your way back after it did.
The next evening,the house smelled like garlic bread and tomatoes.
Dinner had taken all afternoon—not because it was complicated, but because I wasn’t allowed to pretend I was fine anymore. We worked in tandem. I handled what I could from the stool at the counter, and when my leg started to scream, I stopped.
Adrian didn’t hover. He just… filled in the gaps. Chopping when I couldn’t stand. Moving the heavy pots without making ita thing. Sliding things within reach like it was normal, as if this was just how we cooked now.
Like we were a team again.
The sauce simmered low, the table was set, and by the time everything was ready, I was spent, but not wrecked. I even remained seated while he answered the door.
My mom came in first, followed by my dad carrying a bottle of wine.
“Hi, honey,” she said, and my whole face softened. I stepped forward carefully, letting her hug me tightly. When she pulled back, her eyes shone. “You look good.”
I gave a quiet laugh. “You meanalive.”
“Both,” she said, squeezing my hand.
We moved to the table, the easy rhythm of family settling in around us. At some point, my mom asked about therapy, and I faltered just a bit, wanting to skip over the hard parts.
“It’s going,” I said. “Fell yesterday, actually.”
“Oh, sweetheart?—”
I waved her away. “It’s fine. I got up.”
Adrian glanced at me, and the pride showing on his face made something in my chest unclench.
My dad reached across the table and touched my hand. “We’re proud of you, son.”
My mom excused herself from the table and pulled a framed photo from her purse. She handed it to me with a wistful expression.
“Remember that day? I was going through old photos and found this one. I just had to frame it.”
By God, it was from my dream last night. Me and Adrian atthe beach, the fuchsia sun setting behind our smiling faces. He slung his arm around my shoulders, saltwater making his hair stick up at odd ends. He was gorgeous, and we looked happy. That family vacation was right after Adrian finished his residency and had accepted a full-time position at the hospital.
The calm before the storm. Our last chance to connect before things turned hectic again.
My mom wiped at her eyes. “We should take another family trip. You never know when life—” She cut herself off, wincing.
The table quieted. Even the sound of forks scraping plates stopped.
Adrian reached for his water glass, fingers brushing the stem, his knuckles white. I saw the muscle in his jaw tick, the faintest tremor in his hand.
I wanted to tell her it was fine, that I didn’t mind the near-slip, but my throat closed around the words.
“I’d like that,” Adrian said instead, his voice calm, practiced. “The beach, maybe. Once Eli’s strong enough to show us all up again on the paddleboard.”
I looked at him then, really looked. His smile was easy, but I saw the exhaustion in it, the void behind his eyes. He wasn’t the man I’d kissed on that beach, carefree and sunburned and laughing. But he was still the man I loved. The one who held me when I couldn’t stand. Who stayed, even when it hurt to.
