Timothy''s steps were heavy, but he tried not to make a sound as he approached the bed. The person on ity perfectly still, and he was terrified of waking her.


    When he reached her side, his world tilted on its axis.


    Was this really Jessica? Was this his gentle, beautiful wife?


    Her once fair skin was now sallow and tinged with yellow, her lips a faint, bruised blue. Chemotherapy had taken her hair.


    At that moment, Timothy felt a pain so sharp he thought he might die. His typicallyposed expression crumbled, and his eyes instantly turned red. He sank into the chair by her bed, trembling.


    Jessica was asleep. The medication made it hard for her to stay awake, and her body felt so heavy she could rarely get out of bed. Even in sleep, she found no peace. The pain in her abdomen would often stir her from her rest.


    She must have been hurting then, because her brow suddenly furrowed, her expression twisting in difort.


    Timothy didn''t dare make a sound, worried his voice would wake her, worried the sight of him would upset her. Stress was bad for the liver, and her emotions were fragile. In the past, whenever Sallie spoke, Jessica would remain silent. Unable to speak, she must have kept all her thoughts bottled up inside. She had never lost her temper with him, neverined. She had buried all her emotions deep within her heart.


    "Brother, it hurts..."


    Jessica began to talk in her sleep, her restlessness growing, the knot in her brow deepening. The childhood name she called him sent a jolt through Timothy. He panicked, hearing her cry of pain, feeling utterly helpless.


    A lump formed in his throat, and he blinked hard, trying to hide the moisture welling in his eyes.


    With a trembling hand, he reached out and gently took hers,cing their fingers together. Her hand was ice-cold, like a dagger twisting in his heart.


    He was drowning in regret. Why hadn''t he known about her illness sooner? He had been the first to find that diagnosis, and he had foolishly assumed it was just a piece of trash she hadn''t cleaned up. How could he have been such an ipetent husband? He had always thought she would be there, waiting at home with a smile for him.


    She was so beautiful. How had she be this frail figure before him?


    *Jessica. My love.*


    He called her name silently in his heart, not daring to utter a sound.


    He had thought their marriage was normal. He truly had no idea that the past seven years had caused her so much harm. If only he had been more more considerate, more attentive to her feelings, would she still have gotten sick?


    "Mommy, it hurts so much..." she whimpered. "It hurts..."


    Timothy instinctively tightened his grip on her hand.


    "Timothy..."


    He froze, feeling as if he''d been turned to stone. She was calling his name.


    "It hurts so much. Rub it for me."


    She instinctively squeezed his hand. "Timothy..."


    His lips trembled. He let her grip one of his hands while he ced his other hand on her abdomen, gently massaging the area. Gradually, her grip loosened, and the deep furrows in her brow softened.


    He remembered when they were children. She would eat too much, get a


    stomachache, and pull him over to rub her tummy for her.


    The flood of memories was too


    much for him to bear. She had been so attached to him as a child-so cute, cheerful, kind, and always thinking of others. The woman she grew into was just as kind, but she had lost some of her brightness, likely due to her long-helbinability to speak.