Page 65 of You felt Familiar

HOW’S HE TODAY?

I stared at the screen.

I could have written, He remembered Leah.

I could have called it progress.

Instead, I put the phone away.

This was not a loss for Noah.

That mattered.

For him, this was the first spontaneous bridge between the life he could reach and the life everyone insisted had continued without him. A face had come with history attached. A voice had opened a door.

I had no right to make the breakthrough smaller because it hurt me.

The thought was correct.

It did nothing to stop the ache.

I stayed outside until the wind cooled the dampness on my face.

Then I went to the café.

Leah drank coffee with too much cream. Noah had begun asking for tea, though he disliked most of the hospital varieties. The dietitian had approved a small amount of caffeine, provided his headaches did not worsen.

I bought three drinks and a slice of lemon cake.

Before returning to the ward, I stood near the elevator and rearranged my expression.

Noah did not need my grief placed beside his bed.

He had enough to carry.

When I knocked on the open door, Leah was sitting close to him, showing him photographs on her phone.

Noah looked tired but alert. Happiness softened him despite the pain.

“Delivery,” I said.

Leah looked up. “You vanished.”

“Coffee.”

Her eyes searched my face.

I gave the smallest shake of my head.

Later.

She accepted the cup.

I set Noah’s tea on the table. “They let it cool before handing it over, so you won’t scald yourself.”

He looked at me. “I did that?”

“Twice.”