“You should go home,” Sarah whispered, her voice a dry rasp. She didn’t look at him. She hated that he saw her like this—pale, diminished, stripped of the vibrant woman who used to dance in their kitchen. “I’m a mess, Liam. Look at me. I’m not... I’m not who you signed up for.”
Liam sat by the bed, his fingers traced the blue veins on Sarah’s hand—mapped out like fragile rivers. They had been there for three weeks. The initial shock of the diagnosis had long since faded, replaced by a heavy, rhythmic exhaustion. Emeli SandГ© - My Kind of Love
The fluorescent lights of the oncology ward hummed with a sterile, relentless energy, but inside Room 412, the world was quiet. “You should go home,” Sarah whispered, her voice
He pulled out his phone and hit play on a song they’d loved years ago, back when life felt unbreakable. The soulful, steady beat of began to fill the small room. “I’m a mess, Liam
“When the world is on your shoulders, and the seeds of doubt are beginning to grow...”