Chapter 48
COLE
Our wedding night was something I would carry with me for whatever time I had left.
Standing behind Jiya, my fingers trembled slightly as I began unbuttoning her wedding dress, each delicate clasp giving way under my touch. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Even now, after everything we had been through, after all the moments that had led us here, she still took my breath away.
She was now my wife.
My wife.
The weight of that brought equal parts joy and agony.
When I finally turned her toward me, I paused for a second, just looking at her, memorizing every detail.
I closed my eyes as I pulled her closer, pressing myself into her, grounding myself in her warmth. I moved gently, slowly, letting myself forget everything else for just a little while.
Because I knew.
I knew there might not be many more moments like this.
I followed her rhythm, losing myself in her, in us. The world beyond that room disappeared, leaving only the two of us wrapped in something that felt both fragile and infinite. In that space between hope and sorrow, we found something that felt like peace.
Afterwards, I held her in my arms, my fingers absentmindedly stroking through her hair as she rested against me.
“I love you,” I whispered. “I hope you always remember that… even after I’m gone.”
She looked up at me, her eyes glistening.
“I’m sorry,” I said, guilt hitting me instantly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know you didn’t,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. “I want us to enjoy tonight. Enjoy this moment. Enjoy us.”
Her words settled into me, and I wished I could do that as easily as she could.
“I’m scared, Jiya.”
It was the first time I had said it out loud.
Not just thought it.
Not just buried it somewhere deep inside.
Actually said it.
She stilled slightly in my arms.
“I’m scared too,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m right here with you. I’ll be right there with you every second, every minute of every day. I’m not going to leave your side. I promise.”
I leaned down and kissed her, holding onto that promise, wanting to believe it, needing to believe it.
But even as I did, the guilt lingered.
I was going to leave her.
There was no escaping that truth.
The only thing I could do now was make sure that when I did… she would be okay.
That she would never have to worry.
That she would be taken care of.
I had already started thinking about it—her future, the children, everything she would need when I was no longer there.
I would make sure she never struggled, at least not in the ways I could control.
“People are going to wonder about my two wedding bands, you know?” I said lightly, trying to ease the tension between us.
She smiled, leaning in to kiss the tip of my nose. “We’ll make this the start of a new trend.”
I let out a soft chuckle, but as I looked at her, my chest tightened again.
I was afraid for her.
Afraid of what my absence would do.
I didn’t want her to end up like I had been—lost, broken, trying to drown pain in things that only made it worse.
I didn’t want her to shut herself off from the world, to stop believing in love.
She deserved more than that. She deserved another chance. Another life. Another love. Even if it wasn’t with me.
The thought gutted me, but it didn’t change what I wanted for her.
I wanted her to be happy.
To live.
To love again.
I held her a little closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead as her breathing began to slow, her body relaxing against mine.
Eventually, sleep pulled me under too.
For that moment, wrapped in her, I felt content.
I felt… complete.
But somewhere beneath that fragile peace, dark days were coming.
And no matter how tightly I held onto this moment… I couldn’t stop them.
I stopped going into the city after the wedding.
Liam had insisted—almost argued with me—until I finally gave in.
Rest. Stay home. Spend time with your family.
At first, it had felt odd stepping away from everything, from the routine I had built for myself, but as the days passed, I began to understand what he was trying to give me.
Time.
Time I hadn’t realized I desperately needed.
Time I could spend finishing the project I had started for Jiya.
Time I could spend with them.
My days moved into a quiet, simple, and predictable routine. Mornings blurred into afternoons, afternoons into evenings, each one marked by small moments that I held onto more tightly than I ever had before.
We ate together—Jiya, Geeta, the children, and me.
Or at least, I tried.
Some days, I could manage a few bites. Other days, even the smell of food made my stomach turn. But I still sat there with them, still showed up, because it wasn’t about the food anymore.
It was about being there.
About not missing a single moment I didn’t have to.
In between, I worked on my list.
The one I had written that night in the basement.
Each task felt heavier now, more urgent, like a countdown.
But I didn’t let it show.
Not to them.
“You want Dada to join your tea party, Emma?” I asked one afternoon as she tugged at my hand, leading me toward the backyard.
“Come,” she said firmly, her tiny fingers wrapping around mine. “Sit.”
I let myself be pulled along, a small smile forming despite the constant dull ache in my body. I sat cross-legged beside her as she handed me an invisible cup. I lifted it carefully, pretending to sip, nodding in approval.
“Very good tea,” I said.
She giggled.
Geeta had set out a few actual cookies beside us, and I picked one up, taking a small bite just to see her smile widen.
After the tea party, Lucas came running over, breathless and full of energy.
“Come on, Dad!” he said, grabbing my arm. “Let’s play football!”
I let him pull me up, ignoring the heaviness in my limbs as we made our way to the open space where the other kids were already playing.
I tried.
I really did.
But it didn’t take long before my body reminded me of its limits.
My breath grew shallow. My chest constricted. And I slowed down until I couldn’t keep up anymore.
“Go on,” I told him, forcing a smile. “I’ll watch.”
He hesitated for a second before nodding and running back into the game.
I sat down on the grass, watching him laugh, run, shout… live.
And I burned that image into my memory.
Every movement.
Every expression.
Every second.
I didn’t know how many more of these I would get.
I still carried my camera with me everywhere. It had become second nature. Any time I saw them—Jiya in the kitchen, sunlight catching in her hair… Emma curled up with her toys… Lucas lost in his own world—I lifted the camera and captured it.
Click.
Click.
Click.
I wanted to create something for them.
Something they could hold onto when I was no longer there.
An album.
A collection of memories.
Proof that we had this.
That we had us.
“Now it’s my turn,” Jiya had said one day, pulling the camera from my hands.
I looked up at her, surprised, just as she raised it.
Click.
She captured me.
And for a second, I didn’t know how to feel about that.
But when I saw the way she looked at me—like she was trying to memorize me the same way I was memorizing her—I didn’t stop her.
That evening, after dinner, we all settled into the living room.
The children drifted off one by one, Geeta quietly cleaning up, the house slowly falling into a comfortable silence.
I sat on the couch, my body heavier than usual, my mind quieter than it had been in days. My gaze lifted to the fireplace.
The mantle.
Our wedding picture stood at the center. Jiya and I, smiling, standing side by side. Surrounded by smaller frames of the children.
Our family.
Everything felt still.
Perfect in a way that almost hurt.
I leaned back slightly, my chest tightening, not from pain this time… but from the weight of what I was seeing.
What I was about to leave behind.
And yet, despite everything, there was a strange kind of peace in knowing that I had this.
That I had them.
Even if only for a little while.
I created a schedule and forced myself to follow it.
I didn’t want to become dependent. I didn’t want to become a burden on Jiya.
Not on her.
Not on the children either.
If I was going to leave… then I wanted to leave them with something good.
That’s all I had control over now.
“You ready, honey?” Jiya asked.
I looked up at her before slowly rising from the chair.
“Yes, babe,” I said, walking slowly toward her.
Every step took more effort than it used to, but I masked it the best I could.
She drove me down to the gallery after breakfast, just like she had been doing every day lately.
“How is your project coming along? You almost done?” she asked, glancing at me with a soft smile.
“Yeah… almost,” I replied. “It will be ready before the event for sure. Marjorie and Andrea are helping me out.”
“I’m glad. August, right? I can’t wait, hun. I’m so proud of you.”
I leaned in and kissed her before stepping out of the car.
“I’ll see you in a couple of hours at the restaurant,” I said.
She nodded and smiled.
I couldn’t wait to see her reaction to what I had created for her.
That had become my goal.
My finish line.
Somehow, a small part of me still hoped I would make it until then.
But… I knew I wouldn’t.
Dr. Mitchell had made that clear.
I hadn’t told Jiya.
I couldn’t.
She was already carrying enough fear and pain for both of us.
I didn’t have the heart to add more to it.
A month after the wedding, I had gone to see him again.
I had started noticing more changes.
My urine had turned darker. My skin carried a faint yellow tinge. My body felt heavier and weaker.
“These are the final stages, I’m afraid,” Dr. Mitchell had said. “Exhaustion, weakness, a need to sleep, weight loss, muscle thinning… everything that you have described.”
I had felt cold hearing it.
“I guess I don’t have four to six months anymore,” I had said quietly.
“No, you don’t,” he confirmed. “I’d say you have around a month or two.”
It should have shaken me more than it did.
But it didn’t.
I had already come to terms with the inevitable.
This just… shortened the timeline and made everything more urgent.
After that, I stopped letting myself think too far ahead.
There was no point.
All that mattered was what I could still do and what I could still give.
I threw myself into finishing the project. Into making sure everything was in place. Into leaving something behind that meant everything.
Something that would make them smile… a reminder of me… without the pain.
Now, standing in the gallery, I finished the final touches with Marjorie’s help.
“Looks beautiful,” she said softly, stepping back.
I nodded, but my vision blurred slightly as a wave of exhaustion hit me. My legs gave way beneath me, and I lowered myself into the nearest chair, breathing slowly. I couldn’t stand for long anymore. Even sitting felt like effort some days. I ran a hand over my face, shaking my head slightly.
Not now.
Not yet.
I reached for my phone and called her.
“Jiya…” I said when she picked up. “I’m done… but I don’t have the energy to walk to the restaurant.”