My eyes are trained on the road as I press on the gas pedal even harder. 60. 70. 85 mph. I focus on my breathing, attempting to control anxiety. I have the urge to turn down the radio, so I can see clearly as if that makes any sense. We’re so close. My eyes go to the temperature monitor on the dashboard. 29 degrees Fahrenheit. We’re so damn close. I take my hand and reach out to him, and when my skin touches his, my worries suddenly reduce to mere white noise. I continued driving like this for another hour until we finally reached it. The snow. The beautiful white and magical snow. I go around the nearby city, finding a park, so I pull in and stop the vehicle. I put the car’s high beams on, and the bright light illuminates the area. I get out of the car and hit the ground with both feet running, which causes me to slip and fall on the snow. I curse out to no one and pick myself up. Quickly, but now carefully, to the passenger side door. I yank open the door and attempt to wake up my boyfriend.

“Lucas,” I voice, shaking him gently, “babe, please wake up!” I say louder, my emotions getting the best of me.

“V,” he coughs out, “what’s going on?”

“Babe,” I cry out, causing him to jolt awake and give me his focus, “I did it.”

“Did what?” He questions frantically, pushing me softly to get out of the car. “What’s wrong?” He asks as his breath becomes visible, which catches his eyes.

“This morning, you said that the only thing that you would like to see before you go is the snow.” I voice quickly. “I drove us fourteen hours north until we reached it.”

“V.” He says, with no real emotion. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” I groan. “But, I did it,” I repeat, trying to convey everything that my breakdown is not allowing me to say.

“V.” He repeats. My eyes go to his, and that’s when I see it, his tears. “I love you.” He whispers out, leaning down to kiss me. His face is freezing, and concern washes over me. I leave his lips and run to the trunk to grab the clothes I packed for him. I run back and begin to dress him and myself. When I try to put gloves on him, he yanks away from me.

“No!” He exclaims, coughing loudly. “I wanna feel your skin!” He yells out, trying to reach for the gloves to discard them.

“Lucas,” I begin, moving the gloves from his reach, “you have stage four pancreatic cancer.”

“Exactly.” He rebuttals as I intake my breath. “I wanna feel your skin.” He whispers out. His eyes are pleading, and as much as I want to, I can’t say no.

“Let’s go!” I cheer, dropping the gloves and grabbing his hand.

We run onto the grass near the park and proceed to do every snow thing possible. Snow angels. Snowmen. Snowball fights. I even brought a sled. We did it all because my boyfriend can die any moment now. Because I could lose the love of my life at the same time that any one of these snowflakes hits the ground. I did it for him. Because the alternative was him being sad, I don’t ever want to see him sad. He doesn’t get to be sad and dying. Lucas starts coughing violently, and I force him to stop. Soon we are still sitting in the snow.

“When you told me that you were taking me somewhere,” Lucas begins, coughing halfway, “this is not what I expected. By the time it was 9 pm, I might as well have been dead.” He jokes with amusement in his tone.

“That was four hours ago.” I reply, holding my hand out to catch snow.”

“I can’t believe this is my last snowfall.” He whispers out, changing the atmosphere to a melancholy feeling.

“Not just yours,” I sigh, leaning back into this chest. “This is our last snowfall. I refuse to feel the joy that snow brings without you.” I admit as his arms tighten around me. “My chances to experience snow leaves with you, Lucas,” I murmur.

“You never asked for any of this, and for that, I am sorry.” He voices, leaning down to kiss my cheek.

“I asked for a storybook, love,” I contradict, “I got that with you.”