All Chapters of Dying to Love You: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

I backed her against the wall, hands sliding under her shirt to find warm skin. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make my scalp tingle pleasantly. We'd gotten good at this— the silent communication of desire, the easy give and take of pleasure. "Mmm," she hummed against my lips. "I missed you this morning." "I was right here," I teased between kisses. "Still missed you." Her legs wrapped around my waist as I lifted her, carrying her to the bed. I laid her down carefully, mindful of the way her breathing quickened—from arousal or exertion, I couldn't tell anymore. The thought sent a spike of panic through me, but I pushed it down. She wanted to be normal. I could give her that, at least. We undressed each other slowly, a luxury we'd learned to appreciate in the weeks since I'd moved in. Her skin was still the softest thing I'd ever touched, a fact that amazed me every time. "Beautiful," I murmured, kissing a trail down her throat to her collarbone. She

I woke up drowning.That's what it felt like anyway— lungs full of concrete, each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win. For several terrifying seconds, I couldn't move, couldn't call out. Just lay there, paralyzed, as my chest heaved uselessly against the invisible weight crushing it.Then muscle memory kicked in. I rolled to my side, grabbed the inhaler from my nightstand, and took two desperate puffs. The medication helped, but only barely , like throwing a cup of water on a forest fire.Rafael slept on beside me, oblivious. Thank God for small mercies. I'd gotten good at these silent struggles, trained my body to fight quietly so I wouldn't wake him. Let him sleep while he could. There would be plenty of sleepless nights in his future.Once I could breathe somewhat normally again, I checked the time. 4 38 am. Too early to get up, too late to hope for more rest. I slipped carefully from the bed, steadying myself against the wall when a wave of dizziness hit.Midnight materialized

We sat like that for a while, his chin resting on top of my head, my ear against his heart. Outside, rain began to tap against the windows, a soft percussion accompanying our silence."I have an idea." Rafael said suddenly. "Not the ocean, but maybe the next best thing.""What?"He grinned, that rakish smile that had first caught my attention a decade ago on the playground. "Trust me?""Always," I said, meaning it down to my bones.He disappeared into the bedroom, returning with an armful of blankets and pillows. "Close your eyes.""Raf — ""Humor me Sunny."I sighed but complied, listening as he moved around the living room. There was the sound of furniture being pushed aside, blankets being arranged, something electronic being plugged in."Okay," he said eventually. "You can look now."I opened my eyes to find our living room transformed. He'd created a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, surrounded by every candle we owned, all flickering softly. The blinds were drawn again

I followed him robotically to a small consultation room with faded motivational posters and chairs that had seen better decades. He gestured for me to sit. I remained standing."....how long?" I asked.He sighed, running a hand through his hair, a surprisingly human gesture from someone I'd always seen as part of the medical machine. "It's not that simple.""Don't fucking patronize me," I snapped. "How. Long.""With aggressive treatment, maybe a few months." His voice was gentle but unflinching. "Without it, weeks. But Rafael, quality of life is a significant — ""Weeks?" The word came out strangled. "As in, less than months? As in—" I couldn't finish."I've been treating Sam since she was five," Dr. Aaron said, his professional demeanor softening. "Her disease has always been aggressive, but she's fought harder than anyone I've ever seen. The fact that she's made it to nineteen is actually remarkable."I sank into one of the uncomfortable chairs, legs suddenly unable to support me.

SAMANTHA~It was my third consecutive day in this sterile prison, watching the same nurse check my vitals for the twentieth time. Antiseptic and plastic and something else, something that whispered 'you might not leave this time'I'd gotten good at ignoring that whisper over the years."You're looking better today," Nurse Elaine said, adjusting my oxygen flow. Her cheerfulness seemed forced, which meant I probably looked like absolute shit. " Your sister brought some things from home."May had dumped a tote bag on the visitor chair earlier before rushing back to the bakery. Inside was my journal, some clean pajamas, and the instant camera Rafael had gotten me last Christmas. The sight of it made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with my lungs."Thanks," I managed, my voice scratchy from the oxygen tube. "Any word on when I can go home?"Elaine's smile tightened. "Dr. Mitchell will be by later to discuss that. Try to rest now."The standard non-answer. I was getting better