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Tears streamed down my face, each sob ripping through my chest like a wave of agony I couldn't contain. My heart ached, heavy with the weight of emotions I could no longer bear. Muffin sat beside me, his soft fur brushing against my arm as he licked my face, trying to comfort me in the only way he knew how. Yet, despite his efforts, I could see his own eyes glistening with unshed tears,as if he understood every bit of my pain.
I leaned back against the bed, drawing my knees up to my chest, and buried my face in my arms. The room felt cold and empty, the silence only broken by the sound of my muffled cries. It was as if the entire world had turned its back on me, leaving me alone with my sorrow.
Muffin, sensing my despair, curled up beside me, resting his head on my knee. His quiet presence was the only thing keeping me grounded, reminding me that, even in this moment of darkness, I wasn’t completely alone.
But that didn’t stop the pain.
"Why?" I whispered to the empty room, my voice barely audible. "Why does it always have to be like this?"
The question lingered in the air, unanswered.
Everything had been perfect. My life had finally started to come together—so why did this have to happen now? Why?
For the first time in a long while, things were looking up. I had become financially independent, working at a firm I’d once only dreamed about. The kind of life I used to picture whenever I saw women building their careers, chasing their dreams. I was one of them now—successful, confident, and carving out a future for myself.
And I had Muffin, my little ball of fur whose world revolved around me, who seemed to understand me in ways no one else could. He loved me unconditionally.
And then there was Shahzain.
A fresh wave of tears slid down my cheeks as memories of him flooded my mind. I thought of all the moments we'd shared—him gently bandaging my finger, cooking for me on my birthday, getting me a job, and patiently helping me wear my saree. I remembered how he defended me in front of my family, how he gifted me Muffin when I said I was unlovable. How he was always there, right when I needed him the most.
I knew what I had done was wrong. I should have never kept something so important from him. He deserved the truth, after all. He was my husband.
But how could I tell him? How could I look into his eyes and shatter everything we’d built together?
I didn’t have it in me to tell him that I had brain cancer. That I was dying.
