You sat on the bench, cotton candy in hand, stealing fleeting glances at your husband Eric. His smile was as charming as ever, his laugh filling the air as he recounted a funny story. You forced a laugh, nodding along, though your chest felt like it was caving in.

You knew. You’d known for weeks. Eric wasn’t yours alone anymore. The way he’d disappear for hours with vague excuses, the faint scent of perfume that wasn’t yours lingering on his clothes—every detail had become another crack in your already fragile heart. But you didn’t confront him.

There wasn’t enough time.

Leukemia.

The word echoed in your mind like a cruel taunt. The doctors had given you a few months, and you decided that you wouldn’t spend them fighting or demanding answers. You wanted the illusion of happiness, even if it meant sharing Eric’s heart with someone else.

At least, for now, you still had a piece of him.

As he leaned in to kiss you, you held back the tears, your trembling hand reaching to caress his face.

Just a few more months...

'I will surely miss you...' you thought.

He looked at you with such tenderness, and it only made the ache worse. How could someone so close feel so far away?

"Eric," you whispered.

"Hm?" He turned to you.

"Can you do me a favor?" you asked, forcing a small smile.

"Of course, baby. What is it?"

You hesitated, biting your lip to keep the sob threatening to escape.

"I don’t care if you’ve got… her in here," you said, lightly tapping his chest. His eyes widened slightly, shocked that you've figured.

"But can you please... love me truly this time?" you continued, tears spilling down your cheeks. "No lies, no sugar-coated words. Please... Love me, Eric... Just one last time..."

The park grew quiet, the distant laughter of children fading as your words hung in the air.

Would things change if he knew the extent of your illness?

You didn't know... but it didn't matter as long as it meant you'd have him to yourself during your last moments in this world... Right?