THIRTEEN

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Twenty minutes after I walk into Joel's room, his eyes flicker open again – apparently, drowsiness is a side effect of some drug they'd given him. His eyes slowly make their way to mine and when we meet, it's like a flower blooming in his eyes.

"Aspen."

His voice is raspy despite the drink I help him sip. The stubble is turning into a beard like the grass in summer, and his black hair is all over the place. Those tattoos look pure demon black against his milky-death-like skin. Yet, when his icy oceans fall on mine, I smile and only see the man who stole my heart when I was young and stupid. Despite our love not being typical, he still stole me and helped me out of the life I was stuck in. He's the man who's been there for every pain and heartbreak on the wild ride that's been my life for the past two years.

"Hey," I greet him as I perch on the padded faux leather chair beside him. Our hands instantly lace together like a corset. "Stupid question, but how are you?"

"Obvious answer: crap. They told me I had another seizure," he says and takes a gulp. He clears his throat. "This is... getting worse by the day."

My eyes refuse to meet his. We both know he's right, but neither of us wants to admit it. If we admit it, it's happening.

"Aspen, it's okay to talk about it," he says, his voice back to normal. The sleep did him well; it's as if the seizure never happened. "We need to realise this is a normal part of our life now."

"I, uh... I emailed the social worker," I offer.

"That's good."

"I don't expect her to respond, but you never know." I shrug, unsure of what more to say—if I talk about his disease or the seizure, it becomes reality and not a bad dream I can wake up from. He extends his hand out to me, and I instantly lean forward. His chilly hand cups my cheek. Yet as winter meets my face, it becomes summer.

"I was thinking... when I get out of this place, I'd love it if you... went on a date with me." He smiles. I realise what he's doing – we spoke about starting fresh and doing it properly. This is his attempt at starting again and offering a distraction.

"I would love to, Mister Watkins." I laugh.

He grins and kisses the palm of my hand. "You do me a great honour, Mrs Watkins." He chuckles, and it's a love song to my heart.

"I was thinking of taking you to the beach. We can take a picnic, set up on the sand. If the weather isn't great, I'll take you to that aquarium on the pier, and we can watch the otters being fed. Then maybe if the date goes well, I might pluck up the courage to kiss you at sunset, as we wade in the tide."

I raise an eyebrow. "Are you... fantasising there, Joel?"

There's a small cheeky glint in his eye, and we both chuckle. "Absolutely."

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