All Chapters of Dying to Love You: Chapter 51 - Chapter 57

Three days after the bakery confrontation, Rafael came back.I was sitting on the fire escape outside my bedroom window, my thinking spot since childhood, when Persephone's distinctive rumble cut through the evening quiet. My heart leapt into my throat even as I told myself not to hope. He could be visiting May, collecting things he'd left at our apartment, or a dozen other reasons that didn't involve forgiving me.I watched him park, remove his helmet, and sit on his bike for a long moment, head bowed as if gathering courage.When he finally looked up, his eyes found me immediately, as if he'd known exactly where I'd be.The summer heat pressed down like a physical weight as I climbed back through my window, each movement measured and careful to avoid triggering a coughing fit. My lungs felt heavy, congested with the mucus that was my constant companion, worsened by three days of crying. I'd started the antibiotics Dr Aaron prescribed after my latest lung culture showed an infectio

Rafael was more protective, yes, but also more present. He'd taken to studying my medications, researching CF treatments late into the night, accompanying me to doctor appointments. Sometimes I caught him watching me with an intensity that stole my breath, memorizing me, I realized, for the day when memories would be all he had left.The physical aspect of our relationship had evolved too. Where before there had been playful exploration, now there was often a desperate edge to our lovemaking, as if we could somehow outrun death by losing ourselves in each other."Done." Rafael announced, hitting submit on the final application. "Five schools. You happy now?""Ecstatic." I said, meaning it. "You're going to get in everywhere.""Maybe." He pulled me onto his lap, nuzzling my neck. "Now can we please do something more interesting than college essays?"I laughed, though it triggered a small cough. "Such as?"His hands slid under my tshirt, warm against my skin. "I have a few ideas."Th

She led me back to her apartment. bMay took one look at us and wordlessly made breakfast, setting a plate of eggs and toast in front of me that I managed to choke down only because Sam watched me with worried eyes. After, Sam drew me a shower and gave me one of the t shirts I'd left at their place. Clean, fed, but still hollowed out, I finally let her lead me to her bedroom. She pulled me down beside her on the narrow bed, tucking herself against me like she'd done countless times, her head on my chest, arm draped across my waist. "Talk when you're ready," she murmured. "Or don't. I'm here either way." That's when it hit me, the full, crushing reality. My father was dead. By his own hand. The last words he'd ever write to me were on that pathetic fucking note, as inadequate as every conversation we'd never had.... "He didn't even say he loved me" I whispered, the words ripping from me like they were barbed. "Nineteen years, and he couldn't even write that he loved me in his fu