I laughed so hard that I nearly cried.
“You know you don’t have to order the expensive thing,” I told him.
“I know.”
“Then why are you staring at it?”
“Because someday I’m going to be able to afford it.”
“Someday?”
He smiled.
“Someday, Nora. You’ll see.”
Three months later, we got married.
We had no beautiful wedding.
No expensive rings.
No fancy honeymoon.
But Tom held my hand and promised me something that mattered more.
“We’re going to build our own family,” he said.
And for the first time in my life, I believed someone when they promised I wouldn’t be abandoned.
Our life wasn’t glamorous.
I worked as a store clerk.
Tom became a mechanic.
We lived in a small apartment where the kitchen was so tiny that two people couldn’t stand in it comfortably.
But there was food in the refrigerator.
There was a warm bed.
There were two toothbrushes beside the sink.
And every night, Tom came home.
Then Emily was born.
The first time I held her, I cried.
Tom stood beside the hospital bed, staring at our daughter as though someone had handed him the most valuable thing on earth.
“She has your eyes,” he whispered.
“No, she has yours.”
“She definitely has yours.”
“You’re already lying to her.”
He laughed.
That night, while Emily slept between us in the hospital bassinet, I looked at Tom.
“It feels like I’m dreaming,” I said.
He turned toward me.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never had anything that felt permanent.”
Tom took my hand.
“Then don’t be afraid.”
I smiled.
“One wrong move and I’ll wake up without you.”
Tom squeezed my fingers.
“You won’t.”
A month later, he was diagnosed with cancer.
The doctor sat across from us with his hands folded.
He had already explained the tests.
He had already explained the scans.
But somehow, I still wasn’t prepared for the words.
“Your husband’s cancer is aggressive.”
Tom stared at the floor.
I stared at the doctor.
“How aggressive?”
The doctor hesitated.
“Very.”
That single word changed our lives.
We fought.
We spent our savings.
We borrowed money.
We traveled to other cities.
We met specialists.
We tried treatments that left Tom exhausted.
Some mornings he couldn’t get out of bed.
Some nights I sat beside him while he slept and quietly searched the internet for another doctor, another treatment, another possibility.
