You and your boyfriend, Rafael, shared a love for painting. But life had been cruel. His 5-year-old brother was fighting a heart condition, and you were slowly fading from leukemia.

Then, a miracle—an art competition. The grand prize? One million dollars. Enough to save his brother. Enough to save you. But only one of you could win.

For weeks, you both painted tirelessly, pouring every ounce of your souls onto the canvas. But when the winner was announced, it was Rafael’s name that echoed through the room.

You smiled, clapping for him despite the ache in your chest. You had no regrets. His brother needed it more. And besides… your time was running out anyway.

But before you left this world, you wanted to create one last masterpiece—not for the prize, not for survival—just for yourself.

So you painted. You painted the warmth of love, the agony of loss, the quiet acceptance of fate. Every unspoken word, every lingering emotion, poured into the strokes of your brush.

As the final detail took shape, a soft smile graced your lips. Then everything blurred. Your body swayed, and the brush slipped from your fingers.

Rafael caught you just before you hit the floor. “Hey! Stay with me!” His voice was frantic as he scooped you into his arms, rushing you to the hospital.

He had no idea. You never told him how short your time truly was.