Almost Enough Time

They gave her 100 days.

Not a lifetime. Not even close. Just 100 days to fit in everything she'd never be ready to lose.

Taylor hears it in a quiet hospital room, the kind that makes everything feel too real. Travis is there when the words land. He feels the world shift beneath him, but she doesn't break. She just goes still... and then decides.

No one can know.

No pity. No whispered sympathy. No one watching her like she's already gone. If these are her last days, she refuses to spend them being mourned.

So she makes a list instead.

Not something wild or impossible. Just small, meaningful moments. The kind people take for granted until time runs out.

Watch the sunrise without checking the time.
Dance in the kitchen at 2 a.m.
Laugh until it hurts.
Memorize the way he looks at me.
Make sure he'll be okay.

Travis hates it. Every part of him wants to fight, to tell someone, to fix something that can't be fixed. But he agrees to her one rule anyway:

Pretend.

Pretend they have forever.
Pretend nothing is wrong.
Pretend love isn't quietly counting down.

So they keep living. Showing up. Smiling like nothing has changed. But behind closed doors, everything has.

He watches her more closely. Holds her a little tighter. Starts counting days he never says out loud.

And she lives louder in the smallest ways, holding onto every second like it matters. Because now, it does.

But pretending doesn't last forever.

The cracks start to show. The truth gets harder to hide. And Travis begins to fall apart, because loving her isn't the hardest part...

Knowing he's going to lose her is.

Still, they keep going. Through the list. Through the laughter. Through every moment they can hold onto.

Because if they can't have forever... they'll take whatever time they have left.

Even if it was never going to be enough.

Almost Enough Time