Page 57 of Rhys: and the girl who was always his

“From Rhys?”

I nod. Barely. “From all of it.”

He nods slowly like he’s known that all along. “Because you think you’re a burden now.”

I don’t answer. I don’t have to.

Smalls sighs. “Ally, he’s been in love with you since before you figured out how to properly flirt.”

A sad, bitter smile tugs at my mouth. “That long, huh?”

“Yeah.” He sits back. “And you really think some medical condition is going to make him walk away?”

“You don’t get it,” I say, my voice cracking. “This isn’t just something I candeal withand move on. It’s epilepsy, Smalls. It doesn’t go away. It doesn’t have good days and bad days—it hasminefields. What if I have a seizure when I’m alone? What if I can’t drive anymore? What if I forget to take my meds or my body doesn’t react to treatment? What if it keeps getting worse?”

My voice rises with every question, the panic starting to bleed through.

“I’m not just scared of what this means for me,” I admit. “I’m scared of what it means for him.”

Smalls doesn’t flinch. “He’s scared, too. Because he loves you. That’s what love is, Ally—it’s showing up even when everything feels like it’s falling apart.”

I shake my head. “He didn’t sign up for this.”

Smalls leans forward again. “He signed up foryou. And you never gave him the chance to say he still wants that. You made the decision for him.”

Tears sting my eyes. I blink them back.

“He’ll move on,” I say, but it’s a lie I don’t believe.

“Yeah?” Smalls raises a brow. “This is the guy who has loved you even when he was forced into a relationship with someone else. The guy who did everything he could to protect her from her family, putting his happiness on hold and secretly wanting you.”

I don’t answer him.

“Has he texted?”

I nod. “A few times.”

“Did you answer?”

Another pause. “No.”

Smalls groans, dragging his hand down his face. “Ally, for fuck’s sake.”

“I didn’t know what to say,” I explain.

“How about ‘I love you, I’m sorry, I’m scared, but I’m trying’?”

I glare at him. “You always were a romantic.”

He smirks. “Only when it comes to you two idiots. Why do you think I had so much fun riling him up at your graduation?”

I look away, wrapping my arms tighter around myself. The silence stretches again, filled with all the things I’m too afraid to admit.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough for this,” I say finally, voice small.

“You don’t have to be,” he says. “You just have to stop pretending you’re alone in it.”

His words hit something in me—deep and soft and bruised.

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