The sun had climbed higher, casting its warmth across the endless stretch of ocean. The waves kissed the shore gently, a rhythmic lullaby against the backdrop of an otherwise silent morning.

Elyra sat wrapped in a thick blanket, her body nestled between the truck and the rocky ground. She was still, her gaze locked onto the horizon as if afraid to look away—as if the moment she blinked, it would all disappear.

Caleb watched her, every fiber of his being desperate to hold onto this fragile peace. But peace had never been theirs to keep.

Not when time was running out.

Not when death was already waiting.

“How do you feel?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

Elyra turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Like I borrowed a moment I was never supposed to have.”

Caleb’s throat tightened.

She always spoke like this now. As if she was already saying goodbye.

He hated it.

He hated how easily she accepted it—how she had spent so much of her life enduring that even the thought of dying didn’t seem to scare her anymore.

But it scared him.

It terrified him.

“You should rest,” he said softly.

Elyra shook her head. “Not yet. I don’t want to waste time sleeping.”

Caleb clenched his fists. “You need strength.”

“For what?” she asked, and the question sent a sharp pain through his chest.

For living.

For fighting.

But how could he tell her to fight when her body had already decided for her?

Still, he refused to let her slip away so easily.

"Come on," he said, standing up and holding out his hand. "Let’s walk a little."

Elyra hesitated. "I don’t think I can."

"I’ll help you."

She looked at him for a long moment before finally sighing. "Okay."

Caleb carefully pulled her up, wrapping an arm around her waist as she leaned against him. She was so light. Too light.

They walked slowly along the shoreline, her feet barely making an imprint in the damp sand.

“Do you remember,” she whispered, “when we were kids and we used to dream about traveling?”

Caleb nodded. “You always said you wanted to see the world.”

She smiled faintly. “I guess I only got to see a small part of it.”

Caleb’s grip on her tightened. “We can still go more places.”

Elyra didn’t respond.

Because they both knew the truth.

This was as far as she would go.

She stopped suddenly, clutching his arm as her breathing grew unsteady. Caleb immediately turned to her, panic seizing his chest.

“Elyra?”

She closed her eyes, her face contorted in pain.

“Caleb,” she whispered, “I can’t… breathe…”

His heart dropped. “Okay, okay, let’s sit down.”

He guided her back to the sand, his hands shaking as he tried to steady her.

Her skin was clammy.

Her pulse, weak.

“Just breathe,” he murmured, brushing the hair from her face.

She tried. She really did. But every inhale was a struggle, every exhale a battle she was barely winning.

“I hate this,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Caleb swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I know.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I don’t want to spend my last days like this. Weak. Helpless.”

Caleb felt something inside him snap.

“You’re not helpless,” he said firmly.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Then why can’t I even breathe properly?”

Caleb didn’t have an answer.

Because there wasn’t one.

Because no matter how much he wanted to fix this, he couldn’t.

And it was killing him.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he whispered. “You don’t have to fight alone.”

Elyra looked at him, something breaking in her gaze. “I’ve always been alone.”

“Not anymore,” he said, his voice shaking.

She held his stare, her lip trembling before she finally let go.

Of the walls she had built.

Of the strength she had clung to for so long.

And for the first time in years, she cried.

Not silent tears.

Not hidden grief.

But real, aching sobs.

Caleb pulled her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his own tears falling freely now. “I’m so sorry.”

For not seeing sooner.

For not saving her when she still had time.

For everything.

Elyra clung to him as if he was the only thing keeping her from disappearing entirely.

And maybe, in that moment, he was.

They stayed like that until the sun climbed higher, until her sobs quieted, until the only sound left was the waves crashing against the shore.

Until they both had no more tears left to shed. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To Be Continued...