November 26, 2020—Tel-Aviv, Israel—The Next Day #7
“You’ll begin chemotherapy,” the doctor explained.
“It will be intensive and aggressive. You’ll experience fatigue, nausea, and a suppressed immune system, among other side effects.
The chemo will weaken your body, but it’s necessary to target the cancer cells.
Once remission is achieved, the Seattle team will take over with the experimental program.
That phase might involve targeted therapy, bone marrow transplant, and, if necessary, high-dose chemo. ”
Adrian nodded slowly, absorbing the information. “How soon do we start?”
“Immediately,” she spoke. “I’ve talked with the team in Seattle, and the experimental program wants you at their facility as fast as possible.
They’ve reviewed your case, and given the advanced stage of your leukemia, they believe it’s critical to begin treatment immediately.
They’re prepared to admit you as soon as you arrive. ”
Logan’s chest tightened. He’d known the situation was dire, but hearing the words spoken aloud, hearing how little time they had left to act, made it all feel unbearably real. He turned to Adrian, searching his face for any sign of hesitation or fear.
Adrian’s expression remained calm, but Logan could see the weariness in his eyes—the kind of exhaustion that came from carrying a burden too heavy for too long.
Slowly, Adrian looked at Logan, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“We’ll do this,” he said quietly, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.
Logan reached for Adrian’s hand, his grip firm and full of determination. “We’re doing this,” he echoed, his voice raw but resolute. “Together.”
The doctor slid a folder across the desk, filled with detailed instructions about the chemo schedule, dietary needs, and side effect management.
“Adrian,” the doctor said gently, “this is going to be a difficult journey. You’ll need support—physically and emotionally.
And Logan,” she added, turning her attention to him, “you’ll need to take care of yourself as well.
Caregiving is as much a challenge as treatment. ”
Logan nodded, his gaze never leaving Adrian. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for doubt.
As they left the office, the weight of the diagnosis and the plan ahead pressed heavily on both of them. Logan didn’t wait until they were in private to pull Adrian into a tight embrace. “I’ve got you,” he murmured into Adrian’s ear, his voice cracking slightly. “We’ve got this.”
Adrian didn’t say anything for a long moment, simply leaning into Logan’s embrace. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft but certain. “As long as you’re with me, Lo… I’ll fight.”
“Hope. Old and gray, remember?”
“I remember.”
On the way back, Logan couldn’t stop smiling, the kind of grin that stretched wide and refused to fade.
He held Adrian’s hand the entire way, as if letting go would break the fragile thread of hope they’d just been given.
His voice was light, full of unbridled joy, as he called Ada Mae to share the news with her.
She screamed with happiness on the other end of the line, her excitement infectious.
It wasn’t the end of the road; it wasn’t even close, but it was the beginning, and that was enough to make Logan feel like the world had tilted back into place.
When they got to the house, Dean was waiting for them, and Logan barely got the words out before Dean lost his mind.
His reaction was everything: arms thrown around Adrian in a tight hug, his voice loud and cracking with emotion.
Logan was almost certain he caught the glimmer of tears in Dean’s eyes, though Dean turned his head quickly enough to hide it.
“There’s a chance, man, a real chance,” Dean said, releasing Adrian just to hug him all over again. “You need to call your parents. And Tom. And Oz… and everyone,” he added, rattling off their friends’ names while Adrian laughed.
“I will, I will,” Adrian promised, his voice lighter than it had been in weeks. He turned to Logan, his expression softening. “It’s Friday tomorrow, so I’m going to my parents’ for dinner. Tradition… kind of,” he shrugged.
Logan’s gray eyes met his, already knowing what Adrian was going to ask.
“I’ll tell them then,” Adrian added, his voice quieter. “Not over the phone. Would you come with me?”
“Absolutely,” Logan replied without hesitation, leaning in to kiss him lightly. “I’ll book us a flight for Saturday. Or maybe late Friday night? Sounds good?”
“Yeah,” Adrian agreed, his hand tightening slightly around Logan’s.
Dean, who had been scrolling through his phone, looked up. “You guys staying over?” he asked.
“Maybe. Why?” Adrian asked, turning to him but still holding onto Logan’s hand.
“I was thinking,” Dean started, his tone casual but his eyes serious. “If you’re leaving after dinner with your parents, you won’t have time to say goodbye to everyone. Maybe I’ll invite some of the guys over tonight?”
“Yeah, tell them to come,” Logan said, already pulling out his phone. Adrian smiled at both of them, the heaviness of the past days easing for just a moment, replaced by the warmth of the people who loved him.
Dean and Logan often bickered and teased, but beneath it all was a budding friendship. They had grown closer with each passing day, and Adrian could see that Dean was warming up to Logan.
Adrian nodded slowly, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as Dean continued talking on the phone in the other room.
Logan saw it, the way his lips pressed together, as if he were trying to bury the weight of the word goodbye.
Did Dean mean it as a farewell for a few years, until the treatments were over?
Or as something heavier, something final, whispered into the cracks of a fragile hope?
Adrian didn’t ask, and Logan didn’t dare.
While Dean called Adrian’s closest friends to share the news and gather them for a farewell evening, Logan and Adrian withdrew to his room, beginning the delicate task of sorting through Adrian’s possessions and packing them up.
Logan moved with quiet efficiency, tucking clothes and belongings into a suitcase, while Adrian drifted to the back of his closet, his hands brushing against forgotten corners of his life. Then he froze.
“I completely forgot about it…” Adrian murmured, his voice catching on a faint tremor of pain as he pulled something from the shadows of the closet.
Logan glanced up from where he was zipping Adrian’s guitar into its case. “What is it?” he asked, crossing the room to Adrian, his curiosity softened by concern.
Adrian turned, holding a small black box in his hands. His fingers trembled slightly as he passed it to Logan. “It’s yours,” he mumbled.
Logan’s brow furrowed as he opened the box, and his breath hitched. “My GoPro…” he whispered, cradling the small camera like a relic from another life. The weight of it in his hands was both familiar and foreign, a piece of himself he hadn’t realized he’d left behind.
“I forgot about it,” Adrian admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I found it in the cabin. After you left.” The words hung in the air, suspended like raindrops before a storm.
“I couldn’t leave it there. It felt… wrong.
Like abandoning a part of you.” He hesitated, his throat moving as he swallowed a truth too heavy to carry.
“But I never looked through the pictures. It felt too personal. Too much like trespassing on something… that is yours.”
The spiraling tangles of guilt and longing swirl around Logan like a relentless storm, each knot tighter than the last, suffocating him, refusing to let him move forward.
He managed a shaky laugh, trying to lighten the moment.
“Thanks for not throwing it into the ocean,” he tittered. “Or setting it on fire.”
Logan had also set aside his love of photography, which once brought him joy.
From the moment he first picked up a camera, he enjoyed capturing special moments.
His passion for the ocean led him to take pictures of the scenery there, and he fondly recalls the pleasure of having his GoPro along during those adventures.
Though he’d never pursued photography professionally or shared these videos widely—posting only the occasional photo—he simply enjoyed having those memories recorded.
Adrian smiled faintly, but his eyes stayed on Logan’s hands as they clutched the camera. Logan grabbed his phone, opening the app that synced with the GoPro. “I don’t even remember what’s on it,” he admitted, though his voice betrayed a mix of curiosity and dread.
Minutes later, the GoPro was plugged into the charger, and they were lying together on Adrian’s bed, their bodies close, the phone screen glowing between them. As Logan scrolled through the photos and videos, the past unfurled before them like an old, forgotten film reel.
The videos blinked to life. Sun-drenched waves curled in slow motion, a cascade of crystalline blue.
Logan’s laughter echoed softly, the sound carried by the wind, and Adrian’s voice followed—deep, warm, the kind of tone that had always felt like home.
The screen captured their world as it had been—raw and beautiful, drenched in sunlight and the golden blur of happiness.
There they were, standing on a cliffside, the wind wild in their hair. Adrian’s arm looped around Logan’s waist, and Logan’s face was a study in ease—eyes closed, head resting on Adrian’s shoulder awkwardly because of the height difference, a moment of surrender caught forever in pixels.
Adrian’s breath shivered beside him, and Logan turned, their faces close, the past dancing across their skin. Adrian’s eyes reflected the screen’s glow, but beneath it was something ancient and aching—a love that had survived, hidden beneath layers of scar tissue and silence.
Logan swallowed, his voice catching. “We were happy, weren’t we?”