You watch the love of your life, your soulmate, the person who completes you, walk away. The sound of the door slamming behind him echoes in your ears.

You know he didn’t mean the harsh words he just said—they came from a place of hurt. You take a shaky breath, fighting back tears that threaten to fall.

You had to end things between you, no matter how deeply it wounded you both. Because this pain, unbearable as it feels, is still kinder than the alternative.

You walk downstairs and collapse into your mother’s comforting embrace.

She kisses your head and whispers, “You did the right thing, sweetheart.”

You pray she’s right. He can never know the truth: that you’re battling terminal lung cancer, and you only have a few months left to live.