Transcending To You

Chapter 36: DATE THIRTY SECOND

Bright stood on the edge of a precipice, the weight of everything shifting beneath him as they prepared to return to Win's house. Barbara had orchestrated every detail, her meticulousness a steadying force amid the storm. The flight for Win was set for the next day, but tonight, the changes crackled around them like a static charge, setting Bright on edge.

"I've arranged all your practice sessions," Barbara said, her voice brisk yet laced with an undertone of care. She held out a tablet, the screen aglow with schedules packed tight. "Check this and tell me if it works for you."

Win glanced over Bright's shoulder, eyebrows lifting as he took in the crowded itinerary. "Wow, that's... a lot," he murmured.

Barbara's eyes, sharp and knowing, darted up to meet his. "It is, but we're not pushing for anything monumental. Just enough to keep steady."

Win's gaze shifted to Bright, his expression softening. "You okay?" he asked.

Bright managed a nod, the motion stiff as if held together by strings.

The drive to Win's house was quiet, the familiar streets passing in a blur. When they arrived, Shyle stood waiting, her posture straight but her eyes shadowed with something unspoken.

"How are you?" Bright's voice reached out, tentative.

"I'm fine," Shyle replied, her eyes skimming over him before settling on Win. "How are you?"

"Good," Bright said, though the word felt hollow.

"Alright," Barbara interjected, a glance at her watch cutting through the silence. "We need to go over a few things. Let's talk inside." Her tone brooked no argument as she ushered Bright away.

Win's eyes followed them for a moment before shifting to Shyle, who turned without a word and moved to the old swing in the garden. Its metal frame groaned as she sat, the sound mingling with the rustle of fallen leaves.

"Still angry?" Win asked, approaching carefully and taking a seat beside her, the distance between them palpable.

She didn't respond, eyes fixed on a point far beyond the garden walls.

"Shyle, I'm happy," he said at last, the confession slipping out like a prayer.

Her laugh was sharp, brittle. "For how long, Win? What if he forgets your love again? His mind is a maze, always at risk of turning against him. Do you really want to live in that uncertainty?"

"He won't," Win replied, his voice resolute.

"How can you be so sure?" she demanded, her eyes finally meeting his, fierce and searching.

"Because I can't live fearing what might happen," Win said, the words trembling with raw honesty. "I have to live in the now and hold on to hope for the future. I owe him that—I owe us that."

Shyle drew in a breath, her chest rising and falling as she tried to steady herself. "I'm only responsible for his condition," Win continued, his tone thick with guilt. "If I'd just listened to him that day, none of it would have happened. He wouldn't have been hurt, and we wouldn't have ended up in that hospital room."

His gaze fell, shadows crossing his face. "I'm thankful he doesn't remember everything—thankful he doesn't have to relive those nights when even the sight of me haunted him. I'm glad he's found his way back to loving me. And if it happens again, if his memory slips, I'll bring him back. Because even if his mind forgets, his body remembers. I won't stop trying."

"You're a fool," Shyle whispered, rising from the swing, her voice caught between disdain and sorrow.

Win looked up at her, a small, sad smile on his lips. "Maybe. But you shouldn't give up on him either. He never meant to hurt you, Shyle. He didn't see another way."