I considered the question seriously.
Despite the cold, despite the lingering tightness in my chest, I felt...lighter. As if I'd shed something more than just my clothes at the lake's edge. "It feels like freedom," I said finally.
He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Good. That's the whole point, right?"
On the ride home, I pressed myself against his back more tightly than necessary, partly for warmth, partly because I couldn't resist the solid reality of him. We'd crossed some invisible line tonight, stepping into new territory neither of us quite knew how to navigat.
Rafael pulled up half a block from my house, our usual system to avoid waking May with Persephone's engine. "Want me to walk you to the door?" he asked as I dismounted.
"I'm okay," I assured him, reluctantly returning his jacket. "...thanks for tonight. For doing this with me."
"Anytime Sunny," he said softly. "Get some sleep. You'll need your energy for item three."
I nodded, backing away. "Night Shade."
"Night."
I watched him ride away, the motorcycle's taillights disappearing around the corner before I turned toward home. The house was dark except for the porch light May always left on for me. I crept inside as quietly as possible, hoping to make it to my room undetected.
No such luck.
The kitchen light flicked on as I passed the doorway, revealing May at the table, a mug of tea in her hands and a knowing look on her face.
"Have fun?" she asked mildly.
I froze, water still dripping from my hair. "I thought you'd be asleep."
"Clearly." She took a sip of tea. "Where were you?"
I considered lying, but the evidence was pretty damning. "Swimming..."
"Swimming," she repeated flatly. "At midnight. With Rafael, I assume?"
I nodded, bracing for the lecture.
May sighed, setting down her mug. "Sam, I understand you want to experience things, but—"
"It was just swimming, May," I interrupted, not meeting her eyes.
"In your condition—"
"I was careful," I insisted. "I used my inhaler before and after. I didn't push too hard."
May studied me for a long moment. "This is about the bucket list, isn't it? The one I found in your room."
I stiffened. "You went through my things?"
"I was putting away laundry," she said defensively. "The journal was open on your bed."
I felt a flash of panic. "Did you read it all?"
"Enough," she said, her expression softening. "Samantha... I want you to have experiences. I do. But you have to be smart about this. Your health—"
"Is mine to worry about," I finished firmly. "Please, May. I need this."
She looked at me for a long moment, conflict clear in her eyes. Finally, she sighed. "Promise me you'll be careful. That you'll tell me where you're going. That you'll stop if it gets too much."
"I promise," I said, relief washing through me.
May stood, coming around the table to pull me into a gentle hug. "You're all I have left..." she whispered against my wet hair. "I can't lose you any sooner than I have to."
I hugged her back, guilt and gratitude warring in my chest. "I know. I'm sorry."
She pulled back, tucking a strand of damp hair behind my ear. "Get some sleep. And take your medication. You sound wheezy."
I nodded, heading toward the stairs. At the doorway, I paused. "May? Thank you. For understanding."
Her smile was sad. "I may not like it, but I do understand wanting to really live while you can."
After May went to bed, I slipped back downstairs for water and found Midnight sitting on the kitchen counter, his tail twitching as he watched me with unblinking eyes. He must have come in through the loose screen in the bathroom window—his preferred entrance.
"You missed quite an adventure tonight," I whispered, filling a glass. Midnight tilted his head as if genuinely interested in my midnight swim. I smiled, leaning against the counter. "I went skinny-dipping with Rafael. Can you believe it? Me, Samantha Ellis, naked in a lake after dark."
The cat yawned impressively, seemingly unimpressed by my rebellion. I laughed softly, stroking his back. "Yeah, I know. You probably do wilder things every night." Midnight pushed his head against my hand, purring loudly enough that I glanced nervously toward the stairs.
"Shh, you'll wake May," I whispered, though I was grateful for his company.
Some nights when breathing was difficult, Midnight's steady purring beside me was better medicine than anything Dr. Aaron prescribed. Tonight, he seemed to understand I needed a non-judgmental ear to process the strange new feelings swimming with Rafael had stirred up.
Back in my room, I dutifully set up my nebulizer, breathing in the medicated mist as I replayed the night in my mind. The cold lake. The stars overhead. Rafael's nearness in the dark water. The way he'd looked at me, just for a moment, as if he wanted something more.
Item two, complete. One small step toward really living, toward leaving Rafael with memories that might sustain him after I was gone.
But as I drifted toward sleep, one thought circled in my mind. what if these memories weren't enough?
What if, in trying to give Rafael the gift of experience without attachment, I was only setting us both up for a different kind of pain?
Too late to worry about that now.
The bucket list was in motion, and so was my heart, both moving toward their inevitable conclusions.