“I should probably tell you something,” he said. “I’ve got a kidney condition. It’s genetic. Slow-moving, but… it’s getting worse.” She blinked. “Are you—okay?” “For now,” he said. “I take meds. I stay careful. But time’s running out.”
“At some point, I’ll need a transplant. Just… part of the ordeal.” Maya stared at the sidewalk. “Is that why you became a nurse?” He gave a tired smile. “It helps to know what you’re up against.” There was no plea in his voice. No hint of expectation.
Just honesty, delivered plainly. Maya didn’t know what to say. But she found herself reaching out, her hand brushing his. “You don’t have to carry that alone,” she said. And he looked at her like he’d been waiting to hear that for a long time.
The following weeks brought a quiet shift. Aiden began missing their usual meetups. His texts became shorter, sometimes delayed by hours. When they did see each other, he looked pale. Tired. His laughter didn’t reach as far, and his hands trembled slightly when he thought she wasn’t looking.