Izzy & Noah ✔️

Fifty: The Patterns We Inherit

"Nothing much. I was just talking to Katy—she called me. What about you?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

"I brought you coffee and croissants. Thought you might be hungry."
It's somewhere between a statement and a question—I can't quite tell.

"Oh... thank you," I reply softly.

He places the food in front of me, then takes a seat in the chair nearby.

"Izzy," he begins, his tone suddenly more serious, "I think it's time we talked. About everything. About what's happened these past few days."

I swallow hard.

My palms are sweating, and I shift uneasily in my chair.

What does he mean?

What does he want?

I pluck up the courage to say. 

Say what's on your mind. 

Two weeks until the radiotherapy, two weeks of life, everything can change and that's what I fear most, that everything will be different.

"As you know, I don't have much time left," he says with a quiet laugh.

I blink, confused by his reaction.

A laugh?

I look at him, puzzled—almost hurt.

Why is he laughing about this?

˝I'm sorry, I know this could be a serious conversation, but it's a bit tragic, funny. ˝ he says, half laughing.

I look at him strangely. 

This conversation has gone off the rails.

"What were you going to say?" I ask again, forcing myself to stay calm even as my anxiety tightens its grip.

He takes a deep breath. "Yes, I've been thinking a lot lately—about all of this, about us. I know things have been hectic, and there have been many bad days lately. Sometimes because of me, sometimes because you're having a tough time too. Maybe I don't say it enough, but I really appreciate everything you do for me... how much I truly love you. I never imagined my life would turn out like this. I thought I'd live a long, full life. But this illness... it's taught me something important—how to be grateful. Grateful for every good day, for every little thing, for waking up in the morning. And most of all, grateful for you. For your support."

My eyes water, but this time not from sadness, but from all the love.

"I know I haven't been the best support lately. It feels like everything I know, everything familiar to me, is falling apart. And I have to admit—I'm scared of what's coming. Because you... you really are one of the few rays of hope in my life. And in this short time, you've taught me so much."

I say this softly, my voice trembling just a little.
I hold his gaze, trying to steady myself as a lump forms in my throat.

My hands tremble slightly in my lap, and I tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, a small attempt to calm the storm inside me.

The weight of everything presses down, but in his eyes, I find a fragile sense of comfort—like a tiny light in the darkness.

For a moment, the fear eases, just enough to let me breathe.

And for a moment I really look at him.

The love of my life.

A love that has an expiration date, but will live forever in my heart.

"Just promise me one thing—when I'm gone, you'll keep living," he says quietly.

I look at him, my heart tightening.
"I can't promise you that," I whisper, "because I don't know what it'll be like without you. But I do know one thing—it will be the hardest trial I'll ever face."