Grand Favourite Ambys 2024
𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒔.
Elizabeth Reid learned, at seventeen, that she was going to die. Diagnosed with terminal cancer, she's faced with a question that no one should have to answer.
How...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Nathan, could you pass me that blanket?" I asked, my voice barely audible above the gentle lapping of waves against the shore.
He turned to me, concern etched across his face. "Are you cold? We can head back if you'd like."
I shook my head, managing a weak smile. "No, I'm alright. Just a bit chilly. The breeze, you know."
Nathan nodded, reaching for the tartan blanket we'd brought along. He draped it carefully over my shoulders, his touch lingering momentarily. I leaned into him, grateful for his warmth, his presence.
We sat silently, watching the sun slowly dip towards the horizon. The beach was quiet, save for the cries of a few persistent seagulls and the distant laughter of children building sandcastles further down the shore. It was peaceful, beautiful even, but I couldn't shake the heaviness in my chest.
"I've missed this," I murmured, more to myself than Nathan.
"What's that?"
I gestured vaguely at the scene before us. "This. Being outside. Feeling the sand between my toes, the wind in my hair."
Nathan's arm tightened around me. "You'll have this for as long as the treatments work."
"About that," I interrupted my heart racing. This was it—the moment I'd been dreading and putting off for days. I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "I've decided to stop the treatments."
The words hung in the air between us, heavy and final. I felt Nathan stiffen beside me, his breath catching in his throat.
"What?" he whispered, his voice laced with disbelief. "Beth, what are you saying?"
I turned to face him, taking in the confusion and fear in his eyes. My brave, wonderful Nathan. My fiancé. The word still felt strange, even after a month. How could I explain this to him? How could I make him understand?
"I'm tired, Nathan," I began, trembling slightly. "So bloody tired. The treatments... they're not working as well as we'd hoped. And I can't... I can't do it anymore."
Nathan shook his head, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But we can't give up. There might be new treatments, clinical trials. We could look into alternative therapies-"
"I've looked into everything," I said gently, reaching out to cup his cheek. "I've talked to my doctors, done all the research. The cancer hasn't spread yet, but... I don't want to wait until it does. I want to go on my own terms."
I gestured down at my frail body, barely recognisable as my own these days. "I can hardly get out of bed most days. I'm in constant pain. I can't eat, can't sleep. This isn't living, Nathan. It's just... existing."
He grabbed my hand, holding it tightly between both of his. "But you can't just give up. We're supposed to get married, remember? We have plans, a future."