She was frail, her body growing weaker with each passing moment, her breathing shallow, as if every breath took more effort than the last. But in her eyes, there still shone the same light that had captured his heart all those years ago. Despite the toll time had taken, she was still her, the woman he had loved and cherished for so long.

When he rose to call the doctor, her frail hand gently reached out, stopping him with a whisper so soft, it almost seemed like the last breath of her strength.

“Don’t call. I want to fall asleep peacefully—with your hand in mine.”

So he sat back down, their fingers intertwining. And instead of discussing the sickness, the fear, or the inevitable, he began to talk—about the life they had shared. He spoke of the day they first met, how nervous they both were, how their hands shook during their first kiss. He recalled the laughter, the quiet moments, and even the struggles that, in hindsight, seemed so small because they had faced them together.

Through her exhaustion, she managed a weak smile, her eyes filled with memories of love. And with her last bit of strength, she whispered again, “I love you forever.”

He kissed her forehead gently, tears welling in his eyes as he responded, “I love you forever.”

Her hand never left his. Slowly, peacefully, she drifted away—her love a constant thread between them, never to be severed, even in her final moments.

And in the stillness that followed, he understood with a heartbreaking clarity that only love endures. Careers, money, possessions—those things fade and vanish. But love? Love remains, eternal and unwavering, even when time has run its course. It was the one thing that would never leave him.

Her love would live on, a part of him forever.