Chapter 3: A Reason to Wait

Days turned into weeks, and the fragile connection between Lysander and Amara grew stronger. Despite their differences, they fell into a comfortable rhythm, meeting regularly in the hospital's lounge or the balcony. Lysander had started looking forward to these moments, even if he didn't fully understand why.

Amara's health was a constant battle, but she wore her struggles with remarkable grace. She still talked about her dreams—the mountains she wanted to see, the cities she longed to explore, the stories she hoped to write. And Lysander, who once dismissed the idea of the future, began to listen more closely, drawn to the sheer force of her will to live.

One afternoon, as they sat on the balcony watching the city skyline, Amara turned to him with a question.

"Lysander, if you could do anything right now—anything at all—what would it be?"

Lysander frowned, caught off guard. "I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Come on, there must be something. Don't tell me your only goal in life is to sit here and sulk."

Her teasing tone made him smirk. "If I had to choose, I'd probably go somewhere quiet. Maybe a cabin in the woods. Just… away from everything."

"Interesting," Amara said, leaning her chin on her hand. "I imagined you'd say something like that. But don't you think it'd get lonely?"

"Loneliness doesn't bother me."

Amara fell silent, her gaze drifting to the horizon. For a moment, her usual spark dimmed, and Lysander felt an inexplicable urge to bring it back.

"What about you?" he asked. "What's the first thing you'd do if you got better?"

Amara's face lit up instantly. "Oh, that's easy! I'd travel all over the country. Visit every place I've ever dreamed of—the mountains, the beaches, the forests. I'd make memories that would last a lifetime."

Lysander nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Sounds ambitious."

"It is," she agreed. "But isn't that the point? To dream big?"

He didn't answer, but her words stayed with him. Amara's optimism was a stark contrast to his own bleak outlook, and he found himself wanting to understand it, even if he couldn't share it.

A few days later, Lysander overheard a conversation between two nurses about Amara. They spoke in hushed tones, but the words were clear enough: last stage… limited time… two months, at most.

The air seemed to leave his lungs. He stood frozen in the corridor, the reality of her condition hitting him like a freight train.

Amara was dying.

The girl who dreamed of mountains and rainbows, who laughed in the face of adversity, who had somehow brought light into his dark world—she didn't have much time left.

When he saw her later that day, sitting in her usual spot on the balcony, Lysander felt a pang of grief so sharp it was almost unbearable. But Amara greeted him with her usual bright smile, completely unaware of what he now knew.

"Hey, Lysander!" she said, patting the seat next to her. "You're late. I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me anymore."

He sat down, his throat tight. "I wouldn't do that."

"Good," she said, grinning. "Because I'd be pretty upset if my only friend abandoned me."

Her words stung more than she could have known. Lysander looked away, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

"Amara," he said after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper. "What keeps you going?"

She tilted her head, surprised by the question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… you're always so hopeful. Even with everything you're going through, you never give up. How do you do it?"

Amara's expression softened. "Because I have things to live for, Lysander. Dreams to chase, people to love, memories to make. Life isn't easy, but it's worth fighting for."

Her answer only deepened the ache in his chest. Lysander clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

"What about you?" she asked, her tone gentle. "What keeps you going?"

He hesitated, then looked at her. "I don't know. Maybe you."

Amara blinked, startled by his honesty. Then she smiled, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Well, then, I guess we'll just have to keep each other going, won't we?"

In that moment, Lysander realized he had found a reason to wait. A reason to hope. A reason to live.

Her name was Amara.