When There Is Nothing Left But Love

“Ashton, I’m your wife. Don’t go thinking that you’re making life hard for me, because you’re not. We’ll both grow sick and die when we’re older—that’s just life, and I’m just doing what I promised when I married you.”

He gazed at me, his eyes swirling with emotion. After a long while, he finally let go of me.

The doctors said that Ashton could have some liquid food if he wanted. Cameron brought some soup over, and I fed it to him slowly, carefully blowing on every spoonful to make sure it wasn’t scalding hot.

He didn’t seem very hungry, but every time I brought the spoon to his mouth, he shot me a look and opened his mouth anyway.

Eventually, I managed to get him to finish half the bowl. Cameron sat quietly in a corner, watching us.

After I finished feeding the soup to Ashton, Cameron passed me another bowl of soup, her eyes swimming with bright tears.

She said, “You should have some yourself, too. Don’t go starving yourself just because you have to take care of Ashton.”

I looked up at her, seeing the look of sadness and heartache in her eyes. Almost subconsciously, I stretched out my hand for the bowl, before realizing that I still had Ashton’s unfinished bowl in the other hand.

The effects of the medication began to sink in just after the meal. Ashton finally gave in and fell asleep.

gaze at me as I forced down a few spoons of the soup. When I put down the bowl, unwilling to eat anymore, she looked sorrowfully at me. “You need

was right, I supposed. I forced down another few spoons of the soup until

took the bowls and stood up to leave. She turned to me, still looking rather worried. “Take

sharply at her, feeling a little choked up. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out,

in front of others, asserting that not knowing my birth parents didn’t make me worse off than other people. I had

I saw other people clinging on to their parents and acting cute, envy coursed through my veins.

into tears immediately, her body shaking with sobs. Evidently, my question saddened

the third grade, I wrote a composition that won a prize. The title of the composition was ‘My Mother’. Grandma was very pleased and asked me to show her my writing, but I refused to do so. I even refused to show it to Macy, who went to school with me back then. I intended to burn that piece of

liked nagging at her—she used to stand by Macy’s bed and yell at her to wake up, sometimes until Macy got so annoyed that she yelled right back. I also thought my mother would be like my neighbor Wendy’s mother—she liked buying Wendy pretty dresses and accessories. I thought long and hard about how you would be like, but when you finally turned

even harder. She was so upset that she could hardly draw

Give me another chance. This time, I’ll do my best to become

painfully. I had longed for my mother day and night as a child. When I finally grew up, however, I realized that some

wad of tissues so she could wipe her tears. “I will never forget the sadness I felt when you abandoned me, but I can understand the love you feel towards your own child. Grandma always said that we must have a bit of sunshine in our hearts no matter how dark the road ahead is. However, I couldn’t keep up that optimism all the time. Honestly, neither of you is

of imperfections. Cameron and Zachary weren’t wicked people, but neither were they good ones either. As parents, they

was a pretty lucky person, I supposed. Ashton had finally opened up his heart to me, and my parents weren’t the heartless monsters I had made them out to be. I