They say you can never forget your first love…
No matter if it was bitter or sweet, its mark on your soul lingers forever. Even if you tuck it away in a hidden corner of your patched-up heart, there are moments when the brightest—or the heaviest—memories come flooding back, depending on the mood of your spirit. I forbade myself from thinking about Ryan, and after nearly four years, my heart no longer plunges into a dark abyss, shattering into pieces at the mere mention of his name. Still, sometimes my friends, old classmates, even my mom or godmother, will casually bring him up or ask a question. The only ones who stubbornly avoid the topic are me and George. Senior King has set his own unspoken rule against it too.
But now, Ryan has started haunting my dreams. And it infuriates me because, in my sleep, I have no control over these memories! In my dreams, my love for him still whimpers quietly in the fog of my subconscious. After such nights, I need not one, but two cups of coffee, staring out the window for ages until the ghosts of the past finally fade. I don’t care where he is or what he’s doing now. I’ve heard through the grapevine that he got married, and whatever business he’s in seems to be thriving. Do I wish him happiness deep down? That’s a question I refuse to ask myself.
I have my own life now, my own worries. And, after all, there’s a new relationship on the horizon! For years, I didn’t even think about guys, running from them like they were a wildfire, terrified of getting burned again. I brushed off compliments, trusted no one, and kept my distance, practically wearing a sign on my forehead that read: “No room for love here, and I’m not interested in one-night stands.”
I only visit my hometown twice a year now—Christmas and my mom’s birthday on July 8th. Winter and summer. Ryan hasn’t shown up there since his wedding. George assured me he never will, so I head to Orlando without a shred of worry. Last time, I even walked past my godmother’s old cottage, where we once pretended to be a couple in love. The house was sold the same year my heart broke… I bet the fragments of it are still scattered on that porch…
“Hey, Mom. I couldn’t get through to you yesterday. Everything okay?”
“Hey, Savi,” Mom sniffled, and a chill ran down my spine as a bad feeling clawed at my gut. “I didn’t pick up because I was at the hospital. George suddenly felt unwell. He passed out right in the car. Thank goodness he was on a business trip with his driver yesterday. The doctors say it’s his heart. I’m so scared, Savi,” she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. Instantly, I remembered how she cried when we were told my dad had no chance of recovery. For three years, we fought cancer, but it won in the end. I’m not sure my mom could bear the pain of losing another man she loves. She truly loves George. Loves him with a passion that takes her breath away, I’d even say. And he’s head over heels for her. Every time I see them together, it melts my heart, and I’m genuinely happy they’ve created this miracle together.
“Do you want me to come?” I blurted out, even though it’s May and I hadn’t planned on flying to Orlando. But if my support can help Mom through this anxiety, I’m ready to drop everything.
“That would be wonderful,” she sniffled. “I’ve missed you so much, and having you here will keep my spirits up.”
“We can’t let our spirits fall, no way. Let’s believe this is just a minor glitch in the strong heart of your favorite grump. George is a tough guy, and he’ll be back on his feet in no time. You’ll smother him with even more care, and he won’t dare complain. I’ll grab a ticket and fly out. Expect me tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my sunshine. You always know how to warm me with hope.”
Work wasn’t an issue. My boss is amazing. Nathan nicknamed her “the cool lady.” Angela owns a renovation company, and deep down, she’s an artist and a creator. Clients rave about the results because she’s built a team inspired by her vision. Sure, I had to take an interior design course after college, but I love my job. I don’t paint walls myself—I work with clients, finding new ones. I promised Angela I’d work remotely since I’m not sure how long George will need to recover. Being the kind-hearted soul she is, she understood my situation and let me go, on the condition I stay in constant touch.
Things are trickier with Nathan. His schedule is packed, so he can’t come with me. After our third date, when I finally felt ready for a kiss, we decided to take things to the next level. As Nathan put it, “I’m not a kid anymore, and playing the innocent game isn’t my thing.”
I’m not head over heels for him—love is something I approach with caution now. It doesn’t feel cozy in the cracks of my heart, where drafts blow through. But with Nathan, I feel good, at ease. He’s thirty-five, grounded, knows what he wants and what he’s worth. He doesn’t throw around empty words or promises. He’s a pro at what he does, the kind of man you can lean on and just go with the flow. Not that I’m clinging to him to drift along—that’s not my style—but I’m drawn to his intelligence, strength, and sense of humor. My godmother nearly fainted with joy when she heard her favorite “kids” were dating.
“Nate, can I steal a minute of your time?” I dialed his number. Last month, when we decided to go on our first date, he finally stopped calling me “kiddo.” Now, when we’re alone, he calls me “sweetie” or “bead.” When we’re not, it’s “dear.” And honestly, it’s pretty sweet.
“Sure, dear, I’m all ears,” Nate replied, which means his colleagues are nearby.
“Mom just called, in tears and on edge. George had a heart attack and is in the hospital. I’m planning to fly to Orlando to support them.”
“I get it. For how long?”
“That’s the thing—I can’t say. I don’t know how bad George’s condition is. I know this upsets you since we were supposed to meet the day after tomorrow. I’m pretty bummed myself.”
“Let’s do this: once you get there and figure out the situation, give me a call. We’ll decide what to do next,” he said in his calm, deep voice. That doesn’t mean he’s cold—he’s just focused at work. Otherwise, he’s the life of the party and a total dog magnet. I don’t know why, but dogs adore him, even though he’s not exactly a dog person.
“Decide what to do? Are you saying if I have to stay in Orlando longer, you’d fly out too?”
“Quite possibly,” I finally heard a smile in his voice.
“Wow, that would be amazing. I’d love that. Okay, I’m glad I’m with such a caring guy.”
“Man, that’s nice to hear. Soon I’ll start writing your compliments on sticky notes and sticking them on my fridge.”
Nate has a knack for lifting my mood. So, I flew to the city of my childhood with a calm heart and shared that calm with Mom, hugging her tight when we met.
“My beautiful girl, I feel so much better with you here.”
“I’ve missed you too, Mom. Don’t cry, everything will be okay, you’ll see. How’s George? Tell me. Can I see him?”
“They’re prepping him for surgery. The head of cardiology says it’s unavoidable, and George even gave his consent. But there are risks, you know, it’s his heart. He could die right on the operating table,” Mom’s lips trembled, and she fell silent for a few minutes, pulling herself together. “I’m terrified, Savi. I keep hoping my husband will pull through, and we’ll have a long life together. But given the situation, I… I called Ryan… to let him know. After all, this is his father, his only family. What if… what if the worst happens, and they never see each other again?”
“Mom… are you out of your mind? Did you even ask George?” I gasped, barely keeping my balance. “Seeing that heartless, arrogant jerk might make him worse. Is the younger King planning to show up?” My feet felt like ice from the sheer horror of it.
“I don’t know, honey. He didn’t say much. Just muttered, ‘Understood.’ I know that creep hurt you…”
“Mom, I don’t want to talk about it!”
“Still, I’m going to say it. I think it’s wrong for a father and son to have such a terrible relationship. It weighs on my heart. George feels it too, even if he doesn’t show it. Maybe that’s what affected his heart. Of course, I didn’t ask him or tell him about the call—I didn’t want to upset him more.”
“Mom,” I took her cool, tear-soaked hands in mine. “You’re so kind and caring, but naive, still believing there’s good in everyone. Not everyone has it. Some scrub it out of themselves so their conscience doesn’t nag them anymore. I doubt Ryan cares about his father—they’ve been at odds their whole lives. Let’s go see George instead. I really want to see him.”
It’s hard to believe someone as strong as George King could fall ill. Even now, lying in a hospital bed, he looks like he’s just taking a nap. Sturdy, fit, broad-shouldered, with slightly graying temples, but still handsome and… so loved. Mom fluttered to his side like a butterfly, cradling his hand in hers, and George slowly opened his eyes.
“What’s this, Mr. King? Lounging around in bed?” I leaned down and kissed his cheek. “George, confess, are you just fishing for attention?”
He chuckled and took my hand:
“You’ve got me figured out. Did Donna make you drop everything and come?”
“No one had to make me. I’ve been looking for an excuse to see you guys,” I smiled back. “Tell me, what can I do to get you back to feeling fresh as a daisy?”
“I like this one, Donna. Let’s keep her forever,” George mumbled, shifting slightly. “I do have one request. Bring Hank to me.”
“Aren’t pets banned from hospitals?” Mom asked, worried.
“So, if I bring your favorite pup, you’ll definitely get better? Is that a deal?” I squinted playfully. “Do I have your word?”
“I promise,” he nodded with a spark of challenge.
“Think I can’t pull it off? Just wait, I’ll be back in half an hour!” Waving my fingers, I dashed out of the room. I love challenges like this—ones that call for a bit of ingenuity.
I hurried down the stairs, fishing for the car keys in my pocket, and headed toward the parking lot.
“Savannah?”
That familiar tone, the one that rips open old wounds. Only one person ever said my name like that. I turned on instinct and locked eyes with… Ryan King.