• He melted at her touch.

    It was so easy to pretend he wasn't dying.

    Who knows? Maybe it would go away.

    He couldn't tell her...

    And then go and die.

    It wasn't fair.

    She would mourn.

    If she loved him.

    If he kissed her.

    But he wouldn't.

    Wouldn't do that to her.

    Wouldn't she mourn anyway?

    Not as much.

    If only he had risked it earlier.

    But he hadn't.

    He loved her.

    She didn't know.

    He didn't know how long he had.

    A month?


    A year?

    What difference would it make?

    Being young and doomed sucked.

    But he decided to tell her.

    That he was doomed.

    He did.

    She cried.

    She confessed.

    'I love you.'

    He kissed her.

    He was selfish.

    Six months passed.

    The disease had disappeared after months of treatment.

    They had gotten married.

    They had a son nine months later

    The disease came back.

    Then, he died.

    His wife didn't blame him.

    She loved him.

    And that's all that mattered.

    Even if he did die.

    He had loved.