“I will not walk this Earth without you,” she made to slam her fist against the table, but at her energy level, it only fell with a soft thud. “You know this.” The third round of tears made its way down her rosy cheeks.

He stood behind her stool, wrapping his arms around her. “I do. I promise things will get better, I will get better.”

“How many times have I told you not to smoke?” She cried, her voice whispery. “You won’t get better. It’s too late.”

“It’s not too late. People recover from lung cancer all the time.” He pulled the stool out to face his fiancé, lifting up her chin to look her in the eye. “And I promise I’ll do everything I physically can to get better.”

---

The sun warmed her skin, but her heart was frozen over. She had the bouquet her mother had given her. He promised he would do everything he could, and he did. He even quit smoking, but his efforts were meaningless. She knelt down at his gravestone.

As angry as she was at him, she still loved him.