You knew that time was getting near and that you would be leaving the world soon, but your wife Giselle she was still unaware of your time left because you told her that you would recover soon, not wanting to break her heart and see her cry while you were still there. You had a terminal disease and your doctor told you that you have a few months to live, which made your heart drop because you had dreamed of spending a long time together with Giselle and raising children together.

You smiled at her as she continued working on your make up while sitting on your lap.

"You're beautiful, love." She complimented you with a soft smile, making your heart ached due to the situation you kept hidden from her. "When we finally have kids, I want to do their make ups too. How many kids do you want?"

"One." You answered calmly.

She softly chuckled in amusement. "One? I thought you wanted three." She playfully said and patted your head.

"I looked so pretty with your make up, you should be the one to do my make up in my funeral."

She stopped as she looked at you with pained and confused eyes. "Funeral?" She raised her eyebrow and softly caressed your cheeks with her both hands.

"What are you saying? You're not gonna die, you're going to recover."