“1st Anniversary.”
“5th Anniversary.”
“10th Anniversary.”
“When You Buy Our First House.”
“When You Travel to Italy Without Me.”
He had spent his quietest, most agonizing nights writing to me for a future he wasn’t sure he would ever see. He was preparing to love me across a lifetime, whether he was physically present for it or not. But tucked behind the last envelope was a recent printout from that very morning, stamped with an urgent red seal from the central laboratory: Phase One Biomarker Assessment — Positive Response.
The targeted cells were working. The tumor markers had dropped drastically over the last fortnight. He wasn’t just holding on; his body was actively responding to the treatment. The doctor hadn’t given him a timeline to die; they were secretly preparing his discharge paperwork for transfer to the outpatient trial facility.
The sound of the bathroom door unlocking shattered the heavy silence of the room.
I quickly slid the folder and notebook back under the mattress, smoothing down the sheets just as Ben slowly shuffled out, holding onto his IV pole with one pale, thin hand. He looked up, his pale face breaking into that familiar, crooked smile that had made me fall in love with him when we were sixteen years old. The black bow tie still looked delightfully ridiculous against his faded hospital gown.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mrs. Miller,” he said softly, testing out my new last name with a hint of pride in his weak voice.
I stood there, looking at the boy who had carried my backpack through grade school, the teenager who had promised me forever, and the man who was secretly taking on the hardest battle of his life just to stay with me a little longer.
I didn’t say a word. I simply stepped across the linoleum floor, carefully wrapped my arms around his waist, avoiding his lines and monitors, and buried my face into his shoulder. I felt the steady, beat of his heart against my cheek—stronger, firmer, and far more alive than anyone had given him credit for.
“I know,” I whispered into his chest.
