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Third-Person POVJames took Yvonne's ashes to the stretch of coast they had often visited back in college.Following her wishes, there was no funeral. James went alone.The sea wind blew hard, tousling his hair.He opened the urn and slowly scattered the fine white ashes into the waves."You're free now, Yvonne," he said softly.No more pain. No more suffering. No more being bound by the burdens of this world.The waves carried her ashes out to sea until they disappeared into the endless blue.James stood there for a long time, until the sun began to set.The phone in his pocket kept vibrating with calls from work.He didn't answer.Right now, he was simply a man who had lost the love of his life.He reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellowed note. He had found it not long ago while going through some old things, tucked inside one of his college textbooks.It was in Yvonne's handwriting, and the words were something he had never seen before.[James, if I go before you someday, d
I really didn't have much time left.The doctor quietly warned James that it could happen within the next few days.I spent longer and longer stretches unconscious, and the moments when I was awake grew fewer.Whenever my mind became foggy, I often couldn't tell the past from the present.Sometimes when I thought we were still in college, I'd reach for James's hand and insist that we go get ice cream from the place outside campus.Other times, I'd murmur things under my breath, words that made sense only to me.James stayed by my bedside the entire time, never leaving.He had lost a lot of weight. Dark shadows hung beneath his eyes, and stubble covered his jaw.The once confident young businessman now looked exhausted and unkempt.Yara came to see me, her eyes red as she fought back tears.She held my hand and called my name over and over.I tried to smile at her, wanting to tell her not to be sad.But I didn't even have the strength to lift my hand.That final afternoon, the sun was b
James used every connection and resource he had to transfer me to the best private hospital in the city, where he arranged consultations with top specialists.He tried to keep me alive with the best medical care money could buy, but the cancer had already eaten away too much of my body.My attending physician told him privately that my condition was extremely poor.The cancer had spread extensively. The treatments available could only slow its progression. They couldn't reverse it.I was able to get out of bed less and less. Most of the time, I could only lie there, relying on machines and medication to keep my vital signs stable.James canceled almost all of his work and came to the hospital every day.He stopped bringing up the past. He didn't ask about the future either. He simply stayed with me in silence.Sometimes he read to me. Other times, he just sat beside the bed, holding my hand without saying a word.His hand was warm around my cold fingers.In my haze, I would sometimes f
As I drifted in and out through the pain and haze, I heard frantic knocking at the door.It sounded as if it were coming from somewhere far away, yet at the same time, each knock seemed to strike directly against my skull.I didn't have the strength to answer. I couldn't even get up.Then the door seemed to burst open. Voices and hurried footsteps flooded into the apartment.Someone was shouting my name. The voice was familiar, filled with panic.Was it Yara? Or...I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids felt impossibly heavy.Someone gently lifted me into a warm, solid embrace.The feeling was unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar at the same time.Who was it?I tried to ask, but only a broken breath escaped my throat."Hold on, Yvonne. I won't let you die!"It had to be a hallucination.Just before I lost consciousness completely, something warm seemed to fall onto my cheek.Was it raining?...When I regained some awareness, I found myself lying in a hospital bed.The smell of disinfec
After James left, my world settled back into its stagnant calm.But beneath that calm, something was always stirring.My health continued to deteriorate. I coughed up blood more and more often, and the painkillers worked less and less.My doctor called and gently asked whether I would consider chemotherapy or getting in touch with hospice care.I declined.I didn't want to spend my final days in some unfamiliar place, covered in tubes and stripped of all dignity.I only wanted to stay in this tiny rented apartment, the place that had once held a brief stretch of warmth between James and me, and quietly wait for the end.Yara helped me contact a funeral home, and I made the arrangements in advance, paying the deposit myself.I chose a simple memorial, with nothing but my name and the years of my birth and death.I had no family. I didn't need any hollow words of mourning.Having a place to rest was already more than enough.Once everything was arranged, I felt much lighter, as if a heav
I leaned against the wall, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. Each frantic beat seemed to tug at every nerve in my body, sending pain through me."You're not going to open the door?" James gave a cold laugh. "Fine. I'll wait right here until you do."The hallway fell silent, but I could tell he hadn't left.The invisible pressure of his presence made it almost impossible to breathe.The minutes dragged by, the two of us locked in a strange standoff on opposite sides of the door.My strength was draining fast, and cold sweat trickled down my temple.In the end, I gave in.With a trembling hand, I turned the lock.The moment the door opened, James stepped inside, bringing the chill from outside with him.His tall frame nearly blocked all the light from the doorway. His gaze settled on me with an almost physical weight, moving slowly from head to toe. The disgust in his eyes was unmistakable, along with a faint trace of scrutiny."Hiding from me?" His lips curved, but there was no warm







