“That’s beautiful, Aerin,” Jules added gently when I fell quiet. I stared into the leaping flames of the fire again.

“But she could have cancer, Jules,” I said after another stretch of silence.

“Fuck,” Jules said almost immediately. I knew that it had slipped out before my friend could catch it.

I told her that I didn’t mind what she’d said as she apologized profusely.

“Aerin, I-“ Jules started to say.

“Don’t ever say that you’re sorry for me, Jules,” I cut in, shutting my eyes. Pity was the last thing I needed. I didn’t want Jules’ pity. No: I would need her strength, her typical unflinching ability to look at things, at me, and call me out, if I were to survive this to be of use to anyone. Or most importantly, of use to myself. I wouldn’t be able to trust her to give that to me if she pitied me even now.

I caught myself. Had I already decided what I wanted to do?

“What do you need?” I heard her ask, after we both fell quiet for a minute.

“To be just the way you’ve been since we met, Jules. My big sister. My rock. The one person in my life with whom I can be completely vulnerable and broken, and yet know that everything would be alright. The one who would tell me, at the lowest point in my life, that I shouldn’t be afraid. Of anything.”

I heard her muffled sobs. I wasn’t sure if what I’d just asked was fair to Jules. I instinctively felt that if I’d had a sister, it would have been fair to ask that of her.

We each needed that person to survive in this world, my mom told me once. Jules was mine. I’d just told her so.

And then I heard, maybe through her tears, “You can count on me, Aerin.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I slipped the key in to unlock her door, and then turned the knob.

I tossed the keys she’d given me on the tray, after I stepped in, just the way I’d seen her do so earlier, when she’d let us into her apartment.

My steps to her bedroom quickened, as I moved quietly but surely through the darkness. It had gotten pretty late, and I didn’t want to wake her if she’d fallen asleep already. I thought idly as I walked, that the dimensions of her apartment were just the right ones for two people: room enough that allowed each one their individual space, but not too much room between spaces that those same two people couldn’t find each other quickly if they wanted to.