The next morning, Suzanne woke up with a strange kind of lightness in her heart—like the world had quietly agreed to be kind to her for a day. The sunlight slipped through her curtains in soft golden slices, warming her cheeks. For a moment, she forgot everything—her illness, her fears, the ticking clock on her life.
It was a morning made for happiness.
At school, her friends were unusually excited. Hannah dragged her to the courtyard, whispering something about a "surprise." Suzanne laughed, pretending she didn't know what was going on—she was terrible at hiding her curiosity.
And there he was.
Ryan.
Standing near the old cherry blossom tree, pretending he wasn't waiting for her even though the way he kept glancing up from the ground totally gave him away.
The moment their eyes met, he smiled.
And oh, Suzanne felt it—deep, warm, and dangerous.
"Morning," he said, stepping closer.
"Morning," she replied, her heart thumping much too loudly.
"Your hair looks… different today," he said awkwardly.
"It's messy," she laughed.
"It's cute messy."
Hannah and the others giggled in the background.
They all spent the break together—laughing, teasing, taking silly photos, eating chips, and talking about everything useless and wonderful. For a little while, it felt like the universe had forgotten to hurt her.
Later, when the group left them alone, Ryan handed her a small paper crane he had folded.
"For luck," he said, scratching the back of his neck.
"I love it," she whispered.
And then, for the first time, he reached out and took her hand.
Not tightly.
Not nervously.
But gently—like she was something precious.
Suzanne froze. Her heart didn't just beat—it bloomed.
The touch was warm, steady, real.
"You make things feel lighter," he murmured.
"And you make things feel possible," she answered back.
They stayed like that for a long moment, holding hands under the tree, pretending time wasn't slipping away. Pretending life wasn't unfair. Pretending they had more years than they actually did.
It was one of those memories—soft, glowing, painfully perfect—the kind that would make the ending hurt more than anything.
As the bell rang, Suzanne looked back at him.
He smiled.
But there was something new in his eyes…
Something deeper.
Something that scared her a little—because it felt like love.
And love was the one thing she wasn't sure she was allowed to take with her.
But she wanted to.
Oh, she wanted to.