Going to the hospital wasn’t supposed to be that catastrophic.

Heading your decision was the worst thing he’s ever heard. Since you two have left the hospital, he’s been silent. Deathly silent.

“You know I love you, right?” He inquires, “like, you can tell us if you don’t want to live and stuff, right?” He looks away from the windshield at you.

What’s crazy is you don’t look different or sickly. You look totally normal. Without illness. Healthy, even.