Chapter 4

I didn’t go to the hospital. Instead, I took a cab home.

The apartment Alex and I rented was a small one–bedroom. By the entrance stood a bookshelf with

several textbooks.

They were remnants from when I’d pushed him to complete his bachelor’s degree through online cour at a state university.

My mother was right – his education was limited. When we met, he said he only had a community college degree.

We were both young then. I just thought he was smart, with his whole life ahead of him. He shouldn’t

stay stuck at that level.

Even entry–level positions required bachelor’s degrees these days, with higher starting salaries.

I would work during the day, then stay up late helping him study.

While brushing our teeth side by side in the morning, I’d play French lessons on my phone, helping him review yesterday’s vocabulary. He said learning French would help his career prospects.

For months of practice GRE tests, I reviewed every question he worked through.

With time against us, we managed to complete his online degree in just eighteen months.

To celebrate, we scoured every platform for restaurant coupons just to afford a nice steakhouse dinner.

But now, reading Victoria Bennett’s messages, it all seemed absurd.

I can’t

Graduated from Stanford, then Oxford. He’s incredibly young for his

my palm against my forehead, leaning on the sofa, my

up to see Alex, disheveled from frantically

phone showed countless missed calls from him. He leaned against the doorframe, slightly out of

breath.

my face in his hands, examining it.

softened.

06:34

Years of Love. Seven Minutes

20.5%

Chapter 4

just played with my fingers and smiled. “Let me put some medicine on it, before

brave, too quiet in that moment, for him to understand the pain I was enduring.

always been this composed, never losing his

forged this unflappable character, this ability to

that such composure might instead come from

my hand away, looking ahead: “Alex, my mom’s pressing me to go home

quite faded from

loving gaze, “I told her I’d only

meant to cry, but my tears wouldn’t

– your parents would love them. Boy or girl, doesn’t matter. A girl with your big

from my bag, head down. “Look, I put your name on the deed.”

how could you ever repay these five passionate, foolish years of my

at the peak, where every step down is beneath

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