I told Steven everything on the short drive to the dock, the darkest sunglasses we could find shading my eyes from the sun. I told him all about Conrad and how he'd told me he liked me on the fourth of July, but then yesterday claimed he couldn't. I told him about my fight with our sister and why Belly was so pissed off with me for as long as she was. At first, he was a little freaked out at the prospect of his best friend and older sister, but he nodded as I told him everything, nonetheless, carefully driving to the dock.

Being in a car again was weird. This morning when we drove back from the hospital, I sat between Isla and Belly, gripping both of their hands and bracing for the worst, my eyes shut due to both fear and the splitting headache. I still felt a little scared now, my eyes darting to the sides to make sure no one was coming straight toward us, "do you want me to come with you?" Steven asked once we parked, turning to face me with a look of concern, one I'm not used to seeing my little brother with.

I shake my head, despite still slightly needing his balance to walk. I fear Conrad isn't going to be open with me alone, but if Steven's there, there's no way he'll be honest about why he had the panic attack, "I think we need to talk alone," I say, shooting my brother a small smile.

I push the car door open, my muscles aching as I stand up straight. If I weren't injured, I'd probably run to Conrad, but my entire body feels twice as heavy as I take slow steps towards where Cleveland docks his boat. Eventually, I see two figures sitting at the edge of the dock. Their back's facing towards me. Neither of them is speaking, and I can see Conrad's knees are tucked up to his chest.

"Florence," Cleveland must hear my flip-flops approaching against the wooden dock because he turns to look at me. His expression is a mix of relief and concern as he stands to greet me. Conrad's head turns slightly, but he doesn't lift it from where he's resting it on his knees. "You shouldn't have come, kid. You need rest."

"I'm fine," I tell him, and I was, sort of. The adrenaline that came from worrying about Conrad made the pain fade slightly, my mind on other things. "Could we um..." I look over at Conrad and then back at Cleveland, my eyes silently asking him to give us some space.

"Of course," He nods. He shoots me a smile before walking over to his boat, leaving me alone with Conrad. I wring my hands together as I walk up behind him, Conrad turning to look over his shoulder at me as I do. His eyes are sunken in tiredly, his cheeks stained with dried-up tears, blotched red.

"Oh my god," He mutters, his eyes drifting from my eyes to my shoulders and chest. I hadn't bothered changing out of my tank top and sweats before leaving the house, leaving the bruises and burn marks from the seat belt and airbag on full display. They were red, blending in with the cuts that were scattered across my skin as well from the shattered glass.

Another tear streaks down Conrad's cheek as he looks back up at my eyes. He looks scared, "I'm okay," I reassure him. Then, despite my body screaming at me not to, I sit down beside him, crossing my legs. "It's okay."

"I thought you were going to die," He whispers. His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him. He sounds terrified. I watch him take in a deep breath, holding it and then exhaling a few seconds later. He does this a few times before stuttering, "I-I thought I was going to lose you too." His words are muffled, drowned out by a choked-up sob escaping past his lips.

Lose me too? What does he mean by that?

I scoot closer to Conrad, placing my hand on his knee. Pushing my question away for the moment, "I'm right here," I say to him, lifting my hand to wipe away a tear, letting it linger on his cheek. "I'm right here. I'm okay." I repeat myself, whispering, my voice shaky.

Conrad eventually calms his breathing, his eyes once again lingering down to my bruises. I watch as he hesitantly lifts his hand, his fingers gently grazing my skin where the bruises are. He runs his finger against my collarbone and my shoulder, up my neck to my jaw and cheeks, frowning every time he discovers another scrape and bruise. "You're hurt," He whispers, his thumb rubbing against the giant bruise on my cheek, right before my eye, "you should be at home, resting."

I smile at his concern, "we both know I can't sit still for long," I say to him, resisting the urge to lean into his touch. His hands were cold, making the bruise on my cheek feel good. Conrad chuckles at that, and the sound alone fills me with relief. There's more though, I can tell there is because even after seeing that I'm okay, he still looks upset. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" I ask him, giving him a leeway to be open with me.

Conrad moves his hand from my face, looking back out at the water. Something is going on, and whatever it is, it's bigger than the two of us.

"I know," He says, resting his chin against his knee, "I want to. I swear... I just don't know how." I nod, looking out at the water too. My back was aching from sitting on the ground like this, but I didn't move, not wanting to leave Conrad alone right now. We sit like this for a few more minutes, a heavy silence falling over us, before Conrad sighs, "it's my mom...." Conrad finally mutters. His voice cracks, fresh tears brimming the corners of his eyes.

He doesn't need to say more. My heart drops into my stomach, knowing exactly what his words mean... "W-what?" I stutter, not wanting my thoughts to be true, wanting it to be something else, something less scary than my initial thought. His words from moments ago play in my mind. I can't lose you too. He thought he was going to lose us both... "How long?"

"I think all summer," He admits, tears beginning to pour down his cheeks again. I scoot closer, and despite the bruises on my chest, Conrad falls into my arms, his head resting on me. I don't know what to say. I always have the answers, but right now, I feel powerless, like I'm a rag that the universe keeps tossing around. Susannah's our rock. She's the glue that holds us all together. When she first got sick years ago, I would try and imagine what our life would be like without her, but the thought was impossible, too painful to even fathom.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I run my fingers through his hair, my voice barely above a whisper. Hurt courses through me, but not because Conrad kept this a secret from me, but because he'd been dealing with this alone, carrying all this fear around with him and not allowing someone else to help carry the weight.

"I'm not even supposed to know," He informs me, finally looking up at me. Despite both of us growing up a lot these last few summers, I can't help but take note of how young he still is. We're still kids, trying to figure out life and who we are. He's too young to lose his mom. He can't lose her, "if she knew, I knew it'd crush her. It would ruin everything. I felt like maybe if I just kept it inside..." He hesitates, shrugging his shoulders sadly, "maybe that's what keeps her alive."

I sighed, because this was so Conrad. Knowing Susannah, she didn't want to ruin any of our perfect summers by telling us, and Conrad would never want to ruin things for his mom, even if that meant carrying this around with him. "Conrad," I shake my head at him, my voice cracking as tears threaten to fall from my eyes. My head is spinning, and I know it's not from the concussion. "Whether we say it out loud or not, this is still real." I lift my hand, my thumb catching a stray tear on his cheek, "but it's not on you. You don't have to carry this alone."

I go to move my hand, but Conrad leans into my touch. Everything makes sense now, his weirdness towards me yesterday and sudden standoffishness. He'd just figured out about his mom and was shutting down, "I know." Conrad nods, whispering.

"And you're not going to lose your mom," I reassure him, "your mom is the strongest person I know. She's magic. She will make it through this and kick cancer's ass just like last time."

"What if she doesn't though?" He asks me worriedly. Conrad was never a hopeful optimist like Jeremiah. He thought of the worst-case scenario for everything, expecting disappointment. He claimed it made things less disappointing when the good things didn't happen. "What if this time is different, Flo?"

I can't imagine the worst-case scenario because the thought of not having Susannah in our lives makes me feel empty. I can't imagine a time when she isn't there to greet me with her signature hug or run her fingers through my hair while she asks about my day. I don't want to imagine a life without her in it. Despite the sadness weighing me down, I move my hand down to Conrad's, interlocking our fingers. I have to be here for him. I can't break down in private when I'm alone, and no one can hear my sobs; but for now, I have to be strong for him. "Then we'll figure it out," I reassure him, squeezing his hand tightly in my own. "Together."

Ugh this chapter... so freaking sad. 

But also, maybe some cute/ fluffy Conrad X Florence in the next chapter??? I figured y'all deserve it!