The Fading Moon Chapter 30: The Things We Never Said

Read chapter 30 of The Fading Moon by MananTayal on NovelPedia.

For the first time in months, Mike didn't sleep. Not really. He lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. His notebook rested beside him. Jessika's notebook rested beside that. Because after the accidental exchange, they had both forgotten to switch them back. Or maybe neither of them wanted to. Mike wasn't sure. The city outside his apartment was quiet. Moonlight slipped through the window. The same moon Jessika loved. The same moon that had become part of their story. The same moon he knew he would someday look at alone. The thought made his chest ache. Slowly, he reached toward Jessika's notebook. He shouldn't read it. He knew that. Yet his hand moved anyway. Not because of curiosity. Because of fear. Fear that one day he wouldn't be able to ask her questions anymore. Fear that one day her thoughts would become unreachable. After several minutes of hesitation, he carefully opened it. The page wasn't filled with secrets. Or confessions. Or dramatic goodbyes. Instead, it contained a simple title. Things That Make Me Happy Mike blinked. Then began reading. Warm coffee. Sunny mornings. The smell of books. Watching the ocean. Photography. A certain grumpy photographer pretending he isn't smiling. Mike laughed softly. A tear immediately followed. Further down the page were dozens more entries. Tiny moments. Tiny joys. Tiny pieces of Jessika. The kind of things nobody else would think to write down. The kind of things that made a person who they were. And suddenly Mike understood something. The notebook wasn't about death. It wasn't about preparing for goodbye. It was about preserving life. Preserving herself. One page at a time. He closed the notebook gently. Unable to read more. Not because he didn't want to. Because it hurt too much. The next day, he arrived at the hospital earlier than usual. Room 307 was quiet. Jessika was awake. Looking unusually serious. That alone made Mike nervous. Jessika and serious rarely appeared together. When they did, it usually meant something important. "Good morning." "Morning." She looked at him. Then at the notebook in his hands. Then back at him. A slow smile appeared. "You read it." Mike sighed. "You left it with me." "Technically you stole it." "You stole mine too." "Fair." For a moment they simply smiled at each other. Then Jessika became quiet again. The smile faded. Something thoughtful replaced it. Mike immediately noticed. "What is it?" Jessika looked toward the window. Toward the city. Toward the life continuing beyond the hospital walls. Then she whispered, "I'm scared." The words were so soft he almost didn't hear them. For a second he thought he imagined them. Because Jessika never said things like that. Not directly. Not honestly. Not without hiding them behind a joke. But this time there was no joke. No smile. No disguise. Just truth. Raw and fragile. Mike sat beside her. Waiting. Jessika stared at her hands. "I'm really scared." The words cracked slightly this time. And suddenly all the walls she had spent months building seemed to disappear. The brave smile. The cheerful attitude. The endless optimism. Gone. Leaving only a frightened girl. A girl who wasn't ready to leave the world. A girl who wasn't ready to leave the people she loved. A girl who simply wanted more time. Mike felt his own heart breaking. Because this was the fear both of them had been avoiding. The fear neither dared say aloud. Until now. "What are you scared of?" The question came quietly. Jessika laughed weakly. A broken laugh. "Everything." Tears appeared in her eyes. "I don't want everyone to forget me." Mike immediately shook his head. "Nobody will." "I don't want my parents to be sad." Her voice trembled. "I don't want you to be alone." Another tear escaped. "I don't want to miss things." The tears came faster now. Birthdays. Future photographs. Sunrises. Ordinary mornings. Future memories. Future laughter. Future life. Everything she might never see. Everything she might never experience. Mike listened.