Page 30 of Rhys: and the girl who was always his

Rhys nods and, without a word, helps me stand, steering me towards the quiet sanctuary of my personal space. The hall is dimly lit, the distant din of the living room fading behind us, replaced by a solemn stillness that steadies my turbulent nerves.

Entering my room, the subtle scent of cherries from a small diffuser greets us, wrapping the space in calming aromas. I settle onto the edge of my bed, and Rhys stays close at my side, the soft hum of a bedside lamp casting long, gentle shadows across the room.

After a few moments of silence, Rhys lowers his voice, his tone personal and hushed. “Ally, you really had me worried back there. I can’t just stand by and watch you push through these moments alone.”

I let out a shaky sigh, the tension easing as the intimacy of the room envelops us. “I know, Rhys. I’m sorry. I always insist I’m fine, but today, it felt like I wasn’t strong enough to fight off everything.”

He settles onto the chair beside my bed, the fabric creaking softly under his weight. His eyes search mine, layered with both concern and care. “You shouldn’t have to be strong all the time. Taking care of yourself isn’t a weakness—it’s being human. I’m here, Ally. I just want you to be alright.”

I manage a small, appreciative smile, the words resonating deep within me. “Thank you, Rhys. It’s scary, you know? Losing control like that... It makes me feel so vulnerable.”

Rhys tilts his head, the harshness in his usual expression giving way to something softer. “I know. And I worry more than I probably let on. Watching you struggle—it breaks something inside me. You’ve got support, Ally; don’t do it all yourself.”

A long silence hangs between us, broken only by the lamp’s hum and the diffuser’s gentle rustling. Then I speak again, my voice barely audible. “Maybe I’ve been trying too hard to prove I can handle it all. Relying on someone shouldn’t feel like a burden.”

He reaches out, gently brushing his fingers against mine, reassurance flowing through that simple, careful contact. “You’re more than fine, Ally. It’s okay to lean on someone sometimes. That doesn’t make you weak—it makes you human. And I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

I gaze into his eyes, the worry and kindness there melding into something I’ve never quite allowed myself to believe. “Thank you, Rhys. For staying by my side, even when I push you away.”

His lips curve in a small, earnest smile as he squeezes my hand gently. “Always, Ally. Always.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

ALLY

It’s Sunday, and the sun is unreasonably aggressive for nine in the morning. I’m sitting on a grey lounge chair with my legs stretched out in front of me, sunglasses perched on my face, and an iced coffee in hand.

Chase and Arden are already in the pool, loudly arguing about whether floaties count as cheating during chicken fights.

Yasmin and Ella are curled up on the outdoor beanbags with books they’re pretending to read but are really just using as shields from the sun.

It’s warm, the kind of Australian spring day that makes everything feel a little more alive. Even the breeze feels flirtatious.

Rhys steps outside carrying a tray with snacks and drinks, shirtless and damp from his own earlier swim. He sets it down on the patio table like it doesn’t mean anything. Like he doesn’t know what he’s doing to my nervous system. He catches me staring and smirks—not arrogantly, but like he’s in on a secret we’re both still too afraid to say out loud.

Ashley follows behind him, sunglasses on, carrying a speaker that she connects to her phone. Music kicks on—a summery mix of throwbacks and chill hits.

“Pool day was a good call,” Yasmin says, tipping her face towards the sun.

“Agreed,” I say, stretching with a groan. “Though I’m starting to think Chase is more of a menace in water than on dry land.”

Chase, floating by on a pink flamingo ring, shouts, “That’s a compliment!”

“It wasn’t,” Rhys calls back.

I laugh, sipping my drink. The vibe is light and easy. For once, I’m not thinking about health or symptoms or what comes next. I’m justhere.

Rhys flops onto the lounge next to mine, far too close for comfort. Our legs brush. Neither of us moves.

“You look better today,” he murmurs.

I glance at him. “Better than what?”

“Better than you did yesterday when you looked like you might pass out if you blinked too hard.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks, that’s very romantic.”

He shrugs, smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just calling it like I see it.”

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