Chapter Thirty Nine

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Lyra

Two and a half years ago

Bridgette fought hard, she fought so hard. She never showed us she was in pain, or that she wasn't doing well. She kept a smile on her face no matter how bad she felt. No matter the treatment she went through.

Treatment was rough on her. I hardly seen Bridgette have bad days. She just wasn't a person who got them.

Whatever she was going through, she set it aside. She made herself available for others around her. She spent most of the weeks volunteering and she only stopped when she physically couldn't anymore.

The first day I saw Bridgette upset was when Henry left for work and I skipped school, finding her crying in the bathroom. Clumps of her beautiful blonde hair were in her hand.
I just stood in the doorway, trying my best not to cry. She didn't need to see that. Instead, I went over to her and wrapped my arms around her.

Her breath was shaky as tears slid down her face and well to the white tile.

She didn't question it or why I was there. She just hugged me back. And I think that was the moment we both knew she wouldn't be so lucky with her time as others had been.

Some were lucky enough to live years after, the feel I had told me she wasn't going to get so lucky.

Because that was one (the first) of the three times I would see her cry.

"Do you want to go lay down? Sit in the garden?" I asked her gently, rubbing her back.

"I'm very tired." She shook her head. "Just give me a moment and I'll be out. Please?"

I squeezed Bridgette gently before kissing the side of her head. "I'll make you something."

She just nodded again and gave me a sad smile as she tried to pull herself together.

My heart felt so tight. And so did my chest. It felt like if I couldn't control my breathing, I would burst into tears any second. But I kept everything together.

I made something to eat for her. I knew what the consequences of me skipping school was. I knew. But Bridgette needed me far more. Far, far more.

I needed all the time I could get with her. Because I would much rather prepare for the worst and spend as much time as I could with her. I never want to regret not spending enough time with her.

I stood in the kitchen, my hand gripping onto the counter. God, I wanted to cry.

I wanted to scream and curse the world. Because Bridgette of all people didn't deserve this. No one did, but especially not her.

She cared so deeply for others, so much more than herself. Her parents were wealthy, which gave my father and her a trust. Bridgette used her trust to invest and donate.

During the week, she spent her time volunteering at different organizations, events and charities. Instead of working, she volunteered. And she spent her weekends with me mostly.

She wouldn't ever let me see her like this. Bridgette didn't break down. But the fact that she let me hug her, that she said no to sitting out in the garden, I knew my time was limited. Any moment I spent with Bridgette was worth any grounding or punishment for skipping school.

When I brought Bridgette in her sandwich, she had her curtains closed and she was watching cartoons. She was curled up in her bed, her hood was over her head and her eyes were puffy.

I sat on the edge of the bed and put the plate beside her.

"Don't you have school?" She raised a brow. "I can drive you, Ly. Just let me change quickly."

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