You don't need to explain what the butterfly effect is to Lando Norris because with one single change of events, the love of his life forgot all about him and their 3 year relationship.
3 years;
36 months;
156 weeks;
1095 days;
26,280 hours;
All gon...
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"I'm sorry, Lando. Right now is not a good time," Aurora's mother says. "She is sleeping."
"I can wait," I say and smile a little. "I don't mind."
She looks over her shoulder back into the room before she sighs and shakes her head; her face is apologetic, "I am sorry, Lando. I can't do that. It would be better if you would come back another time."
I nod slowly, "I am getting discharged tomorrow. I want to talk to her... I don't have to... I don't want to convince her that I am her boyfriend," I try to swallow the invisible lump that's growing in my throat, "But I have all these memories of us, ones that she doesn't have, so I just want to talk about them without expecting anything."
"I am really sorry, Lando."
I nod again, "It is alright. Can you tell her that I came by when she wakes up?"
"Of course. Thank you for coming, Lando."
I should've expected this; I should've expected it the moment she mentioned Valerie had been there. Why hadn't she changed her emergency contact?
The door to my room is slightly ajar. I knit my eyebrows together as I slowly push the door open. I know that I closed the door when I left to see Aurora, so someone must have entered the room in the meantime.
"Hello?" I say before stepping inside and immediately letting out a sigh of relief.
Caitlin sits in the chair across from the bed. I immediately recognize the worried look on her face, and I nod in recognition.
"It's that bad, huh?" She says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Her mom just sent me away. I can't even wait in the room with her anymore."
"It's Valerie."
I grab the second chair and push it towards Caitlin before taking a seat, "I know it is Valerie. That bitch must have said some–"
"She did," Caitlin cuts me off. She swallows nervously and licks her lips before she continues, "She is feeding Aurora with lies, but she uses..."
Caitlin's breath stocks as a small sob escapes her throat. The tears are welling up in her eyes, and she has trouble with looking me in the eye.
"She uses what?" I ask. The pain in my chest is getting worse; the air around me seems to thicken as the air gets more challenging to breathe.
