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The sunset is warm and gentle on my skin today. It reminds me of Daphne, my wife of over fifty years. She sits beside me on our porch swing, rocking us gently and running a hand through my thinning gray hair. I couldn’t be happier with how life has treated us. Never in a million years did I think that I was even slightly worthy to have such a wonderful woman by my side through it all.

It was love at first sight, truly. Although it’s cliche, I remember it like it was yesterday. From the first date, first kiss, first intimate moment to proposals, weddings, and everything in between. It’s all etched in my heart, and i stand by the fact that Daphne has single-handedly saved my life and made me the person I was always scared I’d never become.

Maybe in another life I could’ve saved her too. If i had a panacea for her, even just one drop, I could finally relax and ease the dread that’s been eating me from the inside out. Lung cancer hasn’t been very kind to my love, and she deserves only kind things. We’ve tried about everything to stop the inevitable, but her body could only take so many treatments. I pray every night for a miracle. I’m sure God is sick of my wish by now, my one wish. Just another few years with my baby.

She coughs slightly beside me, something she’s been doing more often in the passing months. It sounds like it hurts. I know it does, even if she tries to hide it. I snap out of my thoughts and turn my head to look at her. She notices me staring and smiles warmly, making my heart flutter in a way that hasn’t changed in the last five decades.

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” I say gently, my voice almost a whisper. I make sure to remind her everyday. I just have to see that look in her eyes over and over again. The look that makes me know I’ve done something right, even with all my mistakes.

Her smile gets even brighter and prettier, if that’s even possible. “Not as beautiful as your heart,” she replies, making me blush like a teenager. I kiss her temple a few times and then her lips, savoring every feeling. I pull back and kiss her forehead as well, like she’s a precious treasure. Because she is.

Eventually the sun starts to disappear into the horizon, the stars standing out in the darkening sky. We make our way back inside and I help her sit in her favorite spot on the couch. I start to make dinner for us both, humming along to a melody in my head.

The cozy house soon fills with the smell of warm food, and I can hear her humming in delight. I peak into the living room to admire her for the hundredth time today. She’s crocheting quietly, her fingers moving with practiced precision. She’s finishing the last few rows of a blanket for us, which she’s been working on for ages. It’s helped to keep her mind off of the heavy thoughts. The blanket is a beautiful shade of blue with purple accents. I find it adorable that she’s mixed our favorite colors together.

She catches me staring once again and returns the precious smile that keeps my blood from running cold. That’s all the motivation I need to continue cooking, and it doesn’t take long before the food is ready.

I carefully set the table in our designated spots beside each other. Once it’s perfect, I go back to the living room to help her over to the dining area. I notice her tying up the final knot at the end of the blanket, signaling it’s finally complete.

“You finished?” I smile proudly, reaching out to hold the blanket up to see. It smells just like her. God, i love that smell.

“Finally. I lost count of the time my hand cramped while making it, but it was worth every one.” She looks extremely pleased with herself, inspecting the blanket for any error she might’ve made in the process. Of course, there are none. She’s just that perfect.

I then bring her over to the warm food and help her sit. She coughs again, making my heart ache slightly. I force myself to swallow it down for her sake, focusing on the steaming plates in front of us. I made her favorite, again. I’ve had a habit of making her special pasta more frequently nowadays, deep down knowing each meal could be her last. It keeps her happy and distracted, which in turn keeps me from going crazy with apprehension.

She hums and sighs contently as she eats, occasionally glancing at me with a loving look. She takes my free hand in hers, wrinkled but ever so soft and comforting.

“Is it good, my love? I added more of that cheese you like.”

She nods, rubbing circles on the back of my hands. “It’s perfect. It’s always perfect.”

I’m very satisfied with that answer. Perfect is all I ever want to be with her. With everything she’s been through, it’s all she deserves.

We talk and laugh between bites, reminiscing on fond memories from our younger years, planning out the rest of our future together. The sun has fully set now, only the dim lighting of our home illuminating my favorite face.

I notice her getting sleepier by the hour, which makes my stomach tie in a knot again. The knot is a nightly occurrence, and I can’t quite shake it no matter how hard I try. I just hate the thought of sleeping, or more the thought of not being awake and ready if anything happens to Daphne, God forbid. I already can’t sleep most nights because of it, especially after so many scares over the years. I can’t lose her. Not yet.

“Tired? Maybe we should clean up and get ready for bed. I’ll give you a massage tonight. You look tense.” My voice is gentle and protective. I’m already starting to gather our plates.

She nods and tries to help me, but I do most of the work before she can even grab more than her empty glass of water. I gently take that from her too, heading for the kitchen to place the dishes on the sink. She comes up beside me and wraps her arms around me, resting her head against my shoulder.

“You never let me help you. I perfectly capable of doing the dishes, you know.” She comments with feigned annoyance, and I chuckle.

“I don’t need help, sweetheart. Those hands are mine for holding only,” I reply with a slight smirk, scrubbing the pasta sauce until the plates are shiny and smooth again.

She sighs in defeat, knowing she can’t argue with my princess treatment for her. She nuzzles my neck and places a kiss there, making me blush once again. I hate how easily she can make me do that. My insides are jelly when in comes to her.

“Fine, but I’m washing the dishes tomorrow when i make breakfast. Don’t even think about arguing with me on it.” She smirks back, her smile lines creasing further.

I chuckle again, giving in to her stubbornness. “You know I can’t resist your waffles. They’re almost as delicious as you.” I wink.

She blushes this time, playfully hitting my arm and laughing.

After the dishes are finished, we make our way back into the familiar bedroom we’ve shared for a lifetime. I help her carefully undress and slip into her favorite cat pajamas. I have a matching pair that I also change into. I’m reminded of when we first bought them together. She insisted we had a matching pair for movie nights, and who was I to disagree? She looked too cute and happy with them on.

I help her settle onto bed and sit behind her, getting started with the promised massage. I make sure it’s slow and tender for her weakening body. My thumbs move in circles and gentle pressures across her shoulders, my lips occasionally finding their way to her skin. Each kiss is a thank you for her presence in my life, and a promise to protect her at all costs.

“You know, you’re the only reason I’m still here. I know i say it everyday, but i need you to know I love you so much,” she suddenly says, breaking the comfortable silence between us. I pause my movements, the words seeping into me like a plague.

“Hey, i love you too. So much more. And we still have so much time together.” My stomach tightens like I’m telling her a lie, but I’m not. I know it isn’t a lie. I’m sure of it.

I lean in to kiss her temple firmly, locking my reassurance in before continuing the massage. She just smiles softly, but her eyes don’t quite crinkle in the corners like usual.

“I know, i know. You’re too good for me,” she replies, a bit quieter.

“And I’ll keep it up until my last breath. You deserve it all, beautiful. My beautiful wife.”

The massage and gentle conversation continues until I notice her eyes starting to droop more prominently. She’s been so tired lately, even with all the extra sleep she gets. I carefully help her under the covers with me and the new crocheted blanket, opening my arms for her. She immediately cuddles into them and rests her head right beside mine. This is how we always sleep. It’s the only way we know how to anymore after so long. Our bodies mold together like yin and yang, absolutely perfect.

I nuzzle my face in her hair and inhale deeply, immediately getting a hit of pure relaxation. Ugh, that smell again. I like to imagine it’s what heaven smells like, the epitome of bliss. She has that effect on me in a way that nothing and no one else can ever truly compare to. I press gentle kisses along her hairline, one of my hands traveling up to brush the silver strands from her face.

“You smell so good. I could just eat you up,” i whisper with a content smile. My eyes trace along every feature of her face, capturing the details that’s I’ve already memorized yet still can’t get over. Such a perfect woman, truly.

She laughs softly, but it quickly turns into a cough. I hold her a little tighter in response, rubbing her have in comforting circles. I try to mask the sheer worry on my face, knowing the last thing she wants to be reminded of is how sick she is.

“You always say that, love. I’ve been using the same shampoo for years.” She smiles sweetly and rubs my side.

“And somehow it gets even more special every day. I don’t know how you do it,” I say, looking mesmerized. How is it possible to love someone this much, even more than myself?

She yawns again and snuggles even deeper in my embrace, her eyes falling closed. I keep her in my arms protectively, feeling the urge more than most nights. Something feels off tonight, but can’t put my finger on it. I know I’m always tense, always on edge, but I cant ignore the growing pit in my stomach. It’s almost like it’s spreading.

“We should rest now. It’s been a long day,” I whisper in her ear, and she nods in agreement with a gentle hum.

“Sing for me?” She opens her eyes slightly to look at me again, her eyes soft and brewing with relaxation.

I smile at her request, remembering all the other nights where she’s asked for it. I’ve never been very confident about my voice, but she swears on her life that that it’s the most serene sound she’ll ever hear.

“Of course, baby. Just close your eyes.” My quiet voice fills the room as I sing her favorite song. I know it by heart. I reach over to switch off the beside lamp, then cuddle back into her closer.

She murmurs “I love you so, so much. Never forget that.” Her voice is increasingly sleepy and adorable, and I can’t help but smile.

“I love you more than life itself. Goodnight, my angel.” My words make her smile back as she drifts off, her face softening beautifully. I stay up for a while just to watch her sleep. I’m stalling as much as I can to not fall asleep just yet. I miss her too much when I’m asleep.

Sooner or later my needs win the battle on my own aged body. I drift off slowly, lulled by Daphne’s soft snores by my ear. The night passes, and my arms never leave her body. I’m her shield from everything; that’s what I’m made for.

The morning comes too quickly. I wake up to the bright sun seeping through the curtains, lightening the inside of my eyelids. My eyes flutter open, and I’m immediately blessed with the sight of my sweet Daphne again. I grin sleepily and kiss her forehead, careful not to wake her yet. I sigh softly, admiring her for a long moment before slipping out of bed to use the bathroom.

I return minutes later, sneaking back under the covers carefully. I start placing gentle kisses on her face, trying to coax those precious eyes open. She doesn’t stir. I smile again at how deeply she’s sleeping, and I run a hand through her soft hair. She still doesn’t respond.

Now I’m confused. I shake her shoulder gently, my voice raspy with sleep.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Still no response. She’s stiff, too stiff. And then it hits me. It hits me hard. I think I’d much rather be crushed to a pulp by a forty ton truck.

“Baby, wake up. Hello? Hey, what’s wrong? Wake up, please. Talk to me.” I start to panic, my voice breaking more with each word. I shake her harder, my eyes filling with tears. It can’t be. Oh my god, it can’t be.

I cup her face and burst into tears, my hands trembling as I process it. She’s not snoring, she’s not breathing, she’s hardly even warm.

“Daphne…” I cry into her hair, wrapping my arms around her tighter than ever before. “My baby… my sweet baby…”