Every step took more effort than it used to, but I masked it the best I could.
She drove me down to the gallery after breakfast, just like she had been doing every day lately.
“How is your project coming along? You almost done?” she asked, glancing at me with a soft smile.
“Yeah… almost,” I replied. “It will be ready before the event for sure. Marjorie and Andrea are helping me out.”
“I’m glad. August, right? I can’t wait, hun. I’m so proud of you.”
I leaned in and kissed her before stepping out of the car.
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours at the restaurant,” I said.
She nodded and smiled.
I couldn’t wait to see her reaction to what I had created for her.
That had become my goal.
My finish line.
Somehow, a small part of me still hoped I would make it until then.
But… I knew I wouldn’t.
Dr. Mitchell had made that clear.
I hadn’t told Jiya.
I couldn’t.
She was already carrying enough fear and pain for both of us.
I didn’t have the heart to add more to it.
A month after the wedding, I had gone to see him again.
I had started noticing more changes.
My urine had turned darker. My skin carried a faint yellow tinge. My body felt heavier and weaker.
“These are the final stages, I’m afraid,” Dr. Mitchell had said. “Exhaustion, weakness, a need to sleep, weight loss, muscle thinning… everything that you have described.”
I had felt cold hearing it.
“I guess I don’t have four to six months anymore,” I had said quietly.
“No, you don’t,” he confirmed. “I’d say you have around a month or two.”
It should have shaken me more than it did.
But it didn’t.
I had already come to terms with the inevitable.
This just… shortened the timeline and made everything more urgent.
After that, I stopped letting myself think too far ahead.
