Chapter 9
May 21, 2024.
After seven straight do
of rain, the sun finally came out in full force over Westbridge.
That same day, Nina laid her parents to rest. Then, back at the hospital, she received her own medical report.
“Cancer,” the doc
said. “It’s already metastasized to the bones.”
In simple terms–incurable.
“Chemotherapy might extend your time,” the doctor added, choosing his words carefully.
Outside, golden sunlight filtered through the swaying trees, dappling her body with warmth that somehow felt like ice. Nina looked at the report in her hand. Her voice trembled.
“How long… do I have?”
The doctor paused, then replied gently, “If you start chemo soon, you might get
Nina nodded. Her throat clenched so tightly, she couldn’t speak another word.
Just that morning, she had sat by her parents‘ graves and promised to live well.
And now she’d already broken that promise.
–
In the two months that followed, she underwent four rounds of chemotherapy.
d
little more time.”
Before the first one, she’d scoured the internet for everything she could find survival rates, horror stories, hopeful messages. She was terrified.
But none of it came close to the real thing.
Her bone marrow weakened. Blood cells dropped. A deep, unspeakable pain began to drown her from the inside out.
She started dreaming of her parents, and of Julian. Sometimes they were reaching for her on the edge of a cliff. Other times, she was the one falling–and they were already gone.
The physical pain was brutal. But the loneliness?
That was worse.
**
After the fourth chemo session, Nina came home to find a cake sitting outside her front door.
Only then did she realize it was July 1st.
Her birthday.
Her parents had ordered that cake months ago. It was custom–designed by them, just for her.
She carried it inside, sat down, and took a small bite.
It didn’t taste sweet at all.
It was bitter.
And it made her sick to her stomach.
Tears rolled down her cheeks, silent and unstoppable.
Through the blur, she thought she saw her parents–smiling at her.
“Be happy,” they seemed to say. “Live well.”
But she couldn’t.
She cried for a long, long time. The sound of her sobs echoed off the cold, empty walls. There was no one to hear her.
Chapter 9
11.84%
“July 1, 2024. Sunny,” she wrote. “It’s been two months since we broke up. Julian, I’m dying. I called you today. You didn’t answer. You never do. I know you don’t want to see me. But I just… I really wanted to talk to you. I don’t have anyone else.”
Julian’s fingers shook as he read the line.
His vision blurred.
He remembered that call.
He hadn’t answered.
He had blocked her number after.
He thought she had her parents.
He thought she wouldn’t be in pain.
He thought her world would keep spinning just fine without him.
He had been wrong.
“August 23, 2024. Light rain. Julian, happy birthday. What are you doing right now? I know you blocked my number, so I didn’t dare call again. But I still want to ask… Why did you break up with me? If we ever meet again, will you tell me? Probably not. There won’t be another chance. I’ve stopped chemo. I applied for assisted death in Aspenridge.”
“January 3, 2025. My application’s been approved. I heard you’re in Aspenridge too. Crazy, right? What are the odds? Do you think I’ll see you one last time before I go? Maybe not. Maybe you’ve already forgotten me.”
IT
“July 1, 2025. Julian, you really are an asshole. I wanted to curse you out. But that cake… it was so sweet. The moment I tasted it, I knew it was from you. So I couldn’t be angry anymore. Julian… thank you. Thank you for giving me one last birthday.”
Outside the clinic, the trees swayed wildly in the summer wind.
Sunlight filtered through the branches, breaking into dizzy, flickering shards.
Julian’s face was wet and cold.
He closed the diary.
Behind him, Samantha finally caught up.
She reached out gently, taking Julian’s hand.
“Julian… today’s our wedding. You promised my brother-”
“Samantha.”
He cut her off.
His eyes were bloodshot.
But his voice was eerily calm.
“Nina is dead.”
He looked at her–hollow, devastated,
“Whatever promises I made… they don’t matter anymore.”
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Chapter 9
