There was no point.
All that mattered was what I could still do and what I could still give.
I threw myself into finishing the project. Into making sure everything was in place. Into leaving something behind that meant everything.
Something that would make them smile… a reminder of me… without the pain.
Now, standing in the gallery, I finished the final touches with Marjorie’s help.
“Looks beautiful,” she said softly, stepping back.
I nodded, but my vision blurred slightly as a wave of exhaustion hit me. My legs gave way beneath me, and I lowered myself into the nearest chair, breathing slowly. I couldn’t stand for long anymore. Even sitting felt like effort some days. I ran a hand over my face, shaking my head slightly.
Not now.
Not yet.
I reached for my phone and called her.
“Jiya…” I said when she picked up. “I’m done… but I don’t have the energy to walk to the restaurant.”
49
JIYA
“I’ll be right there,” I said, grabbing my keys before the call had even properly ended.
My heart pounded as I rushed to the car, my hands trembling slightly as I started the engine.
The drive to the gallery barely registered—I arrived in less than a minute, my breath shallow, my chest tight with a fear that had become constant.
I found him exactly where he said he would be… drained and leaning against the wall like even standing had become too much.
My heart broke all over again.
I rushed to him, slipping my arm around his waist as he leaned into me, his weight heavier than it had ever been before. I supported him, guiding him slowly toward the car.
I could feel it now.
The weakness…the fragility… the way his body no longer listened to him.
By the time I helped him into the passenger seat, my hands were shaking.I closed the door gently, standing there for a second, just looking at him.
At what was happening to him.
At what I was losing.
The changes had come so quickly after our wedding.
He could barely keep any food down anymore. The meals I made, the ones he used to enjoy, now sat untouched or half-eaten. His frame had thinned so much that it terrified me every time I noticed it again.
And I noticed it every day.
I was losing him.
My husband.
The man I loved.
