Juan and Ned smoked one cigarette after another, their gazes avoiding mine.
They both knew that the past few years, when Darren was gone, it had been the hardest for me.
I had once boldly declared in front of them that if Darren didn’t die, I would drag him to the fighting room and beat him half to death.
When the moment finally arrived, I was overjoyed, wanting nothing more than to rush up and hug him tightly.
But by his side, there was someone else.
We stood in the corner for a long time, until Darren and Vivie walked out hand in hand and only then did we make a move.
Juan stubbed out his cigarette and threw it into the trash can, pulling me toward the consultation room.
“Let’s go, let’s figure out what’s going on.”
The doctor said that Darren had amnesia.
His memory stopped at the time before his college graduation, when Vivie was everything to him and I was the rival he disliked the most.
I grew up with him, as our families have been close for generations. But somehow, it felt like we had always been at odds.