You were 14 years old at the time, and you spent that time battling lung cancer. There would be times when you would go to the hospital every week for check-ups on your progress. While your parents were worried about what was written in the medical report, you were always happy to go to the hospital. Because of Dr. Zayne, your first love. It sounds ridiculous, considering the large age gap between you and him, but it was true. From the moment Zayne became your doctor, you were no longer afraid of medicine, nor were you afraid of chemotherapy. Meeting Zayne was your weekly dream.

One Friday afternoon, after school, you went to the hospital for a check-up. After the examination, you looked at Zayne with your bright eyes.

"Dr. Zayne! You have to marry me when I grow up!"

Zayne froze, staring at the little girl, still in her school uniform, shamelessly proposing to him, or perhaps without even knowing what she was talking about. Zayne sighed. "Stop talking nonsense."

You pouted at Zayne's answer, but you didn't give up. "If you refuse, I won't do my check-up anymore!"

Zayne sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, I'll marry you in the future."

Years passed, you carried that promise with you. Until here you were, at the altar, with its beautiful wedding decorations, you stared at Zayne standing there, in a tuxedo that perfectly suited him. His gaze was fixed on a woman walking towards him in a beautiful wedding gown. You smiled bitterly, your pain mixed with the joy of Zayne's marriage to the love of his life. You buried that promise. You wanted to protest to God, but seeing Zayne's smile so happy was enough to make you relieved.

When your gaze met his, Zayne stared at you for a moment until he smiled at you. You nodded at him, not hiding the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes at any moment, you smiled.