When There Is Nothing Left But Love

I could empathize with Marcus if he refused to be seen by someone he loved in a state ravaged by illness. His emotions were my priority, and I would respect any decision he made.

Marcus stared at me quietly for a long time until it felt like the time and space around us were frozen. His pupils barely moved, and he did not seem angered by my presence. Only the arrhythmic beating of his heart assured me that he was still alive.

I took his silence as tactful rejection. Maybe Marcus was not prepared to see me yet.

Mustering a smile on my face, I nodded my head a fraction to let him know that I was not upset by his decision.

I had just turned around to leave when he said, “I knew you would come. Please take a seat.” I knew you would come. Please, sit.

The words rang in my head as I took a deep breath to push down the urge to burst into tears. I composed myself before returning to his bedside and taking a seat.

“How do you feel today? Better?” This sort of small talk felt rather cliché to me, yet it always seemed like the most natural thing to do.

to hear? That I’m feeling great, or no?” Each word seemed to sap Marcus’ energy, though

are you trying to

shouldn’t concern yourself with my feelings at this point. You’re the patient

felt like one of Shakespeare’s ironic comedies. It was the most trivial of matters that often courted the harshest criticisms and the most

one would wear a perpetual smile and assure everyone that everything was fine. It

one inched closer to imminent death. In a sense, lying was the

him as he added weakly, “I feel terrible, and everything hurts.

I could not suppress the sorrow that rose in

heaving as he said this, and his warm breath fogged up his

in the

Nudging his elbow, I added, “Be a man and put up

spot where I had touched him. The expression in his eyes did not change as he silently contemplated my words. A while later, he uttered, “Marry me, and I’ll hang on. Otherwise, dying now doesn’t make a difference to