Alekos
The door closed behind her.
And I didn't move.
Not immediately.
I stayed there on my knees, staring at the space she had just occupied like if I looked hard enough, she'd still be there.
She wasn't.
The silence came in slowly.
Then all at once.
And it crushed me.
I dragged my hands over my face, but it didn't help. Nothing helped.
"I didn't know…" I whispered.
My voice echoed back at me like a lie.
Because I should've.
I should've seen it. The weight loss. The way she moved slower. The way she stopped eating. The way her voice changed.
I was right there.
And I missed it.
A broken laugh escaped me, sharp and ugly.
"I was too busy counting days," I muttered. "Too busy pretending this was just a deal."
My chest tightened violently.
"I was drinking," I added bitterly. "Like that was going to fix anything."
I stood up too fast, pacing, hands shaking.
"She was dying—and I was drunk."
The word hit me.
Dying.
I stopped.
Everything in me recoiled.
"No."
I shook my head hard.
"No. No, she's not—"
But the truth didn't care what I believed.
It was already here.
It had been here.
And I had done nothing.
My fist slammed into the wall before I could stop it.
Pain shot up my arm.
Good.
I deserved that.
"Get it together," I breathed. "Do something."
Because sitting here?
Breaking down?
That wasn't going to save her.
SCENE 32: The Man Who Knew Too Late
Alekos
I didn't knock.
I walked straight into Vanessa's office like I had a right to be there.
She looked up—surprised.
"Alekos?"
"Tell me everything."
Her expression changed immediately.
Professional.
Careful.
"I can't—"
"You can," I snapped. "Because I'm not leaving until you do."
Silence.
Heavy.
She studied me for a long second.
Then sighed.
"…She told you."
"Not everything," I said. "But enough."
Vanessa leaned back slightly, folding her hands.
"It's progressing faster than we hoped," she said quietly. "The chemotherapy was slowing it down, but—"
"But she stopped."
Vanessa nodded.
"For a chance at pregnancy."
My jaw tightened so hard it hurt.
"And now?"
A pause.
Then—
"If she conceives now, her body will be under extreme stress. The next nine months will be physically… brutal."
"Brutal how?" My voice was sharp.
"She'll weaken faster. There's risk of complications. Pain. Fatigue. Potential organ strain."
Each word felt like a nail.
"And if she doesn't?" I asked.
Vanessa's eyes softened.
"…Then we focus on extending her time. Improving quality of life."
Time.
Like that was something we had.
I let out a hollow breath.
"She thinks this is her only chance," I said.
Vanessa didn't argue.
Because it was.
I looked down at my hands.
Still shaking.
"What would you do?" I asked quietly.
Vanessa hesitated.
Then answered honestly.
"I would want her to live."
The answer hit.
But it didn't solve anything.
Because Selin didn't just want to live.
She wanted a reason to.
Selin
I didn't sleep.
Not really.
I closed my eyes. That was it.
By morning, I was already awake.
Staring at the ceiling.
Listening to the silence.
Waiting for something to feel different.
It did.
Everything felt… clearer.
He knew now.
There was no hiding.
No pretending.
No "we'll deal with it later."
Later had arrived.
I sat up slowly, my body protesting the movement.
Then got dressed.
Same oversized hoodie.
Same routine.
But nothing felt the same.
When I stepped into the kitchen—
He was already there.
Standing by the counter.
Not sitting.
Not avoiding.
Waiting.
Our eyes met.
And this time—
Neither of us looked away.
"Did you sleep?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No."
"Me neither."
A pause.
Then he stepped closer.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Just… deliberate.
"I went to see Vanessa."
My breath caught.
"…Why?"
"Because I should've done it sooner," he said. "Because I needed to know what I'm fighting."
That word.
Fighting.
It settled deep in my chest.
"And?" I asked quietly.
He didn't sugarcoat it.
"It's bad."
I nodded.
"I know."
Silence.
But not the same silence as before.
This one wasn't empty.
It was… shared.
He reached for my hand.
This time, I didn't hesitate.
"I meant what I said last night," he told me. "I'm not letting you do this alone."
My fingers tightened around his.
"And I'm not going to treat this like a schedule," he added. "Or a task. Or something to get through."
My throat tightened.
"Alekos—"
"I choose you," he said, firm now. "Whatever that looks like. However long it is."
Tears burned my eyes again.
But these felt different.
Less like breaking.
More like… holding on.
"I'm scared," I admitted.
"I know."
"I don't know if my body will handle it."
"I know."
"I don't know if I'll survive it."
That one lingered.
He didn't answer right away.
Then—
"I don't know either," he said honestly.
And somehow?
That honesty felt safer than any lie.
He stepped closer.
Careful.
Gentle.
And rested his forehead against mine.
No rush.
No pressure.
Just… presence.
"For whatever time we have," he whispered, "we do it together."
My eyes closed.
And for the first time—
I believed him.
We didn't go to the bedroom.
That was the first thing that changed.
No unspoken agreement. No "it's time." No pressure sitting in the air like a deadline.
Instead—
We stayed in the living room.
Side by side on the couch.
Not touching at first.
Just… existing.
"I don't want to rush this," Alekos said quietly.
I nodded, staring at my hands. "Me neither."
Silence.
But not awkward.
Not forced.
Just… careful.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, running a hand through his hair. "I've been doing everything wrong."
"You didn't know," I said.
"I should've," he replied instantly.
I didn't argue.
Because part of me had wanted him to notice.
Wanted him to see me.
"I don't want this to feel like… something we have to survive," he continued. "I want it to feel like something we're choosing."
My chest tightened.
"We are choosing it," I whispered.
"Then we do it right," he said. "Even if it's late."
I looked at him then.
Really looked.
And for the first time—
He wasn't guarded.
He wasn't distant.
He was here.
With me.
"Okay," I said softly.
Alekos
She was shaking.
At first, I thought it was nerves.
Then I saw her hand.
Trembling.
Too much.
"Selin."
She tried to smile. "I'm fine."
"You're not."
"I said I'm fine—"
Her breath hitched.
Sharp.
Wrong.
And then—
She doubled slightly, one hand pressing against her stomach, the other gripping the edge of the couch.
"Hey—hey, look at me," I said quickly, kneeling in front of her.
Her face had gone pale.
Too pale.
"I'm okay," she insisted, but her voice was weaker now.
"No," I said firmly. "No, we stop."
"It's just a moment—"
"We stop," I repeated, louder this time.
Her eyes met mine.
And I saw it.
Fear.
Not of me.
Of her own body.
Tears welled up instantly.
"I thought I had more time," she whispered.
That broke something in me.
I pulled her into me, careful—so careful—as if she might fall apart in my arms.
"You do," I said, even if I didn't fully believe it. "We're not racing anything tonight."
Her fingers clutched my shirt.
"But what if I run out?" she cried softly.
My jaw tightened.
"Then we don't waste it like this," I said. "Not pushing. Not forcing. Not hurting you."
Her breathing slowed slightly.
But her grip didn't loosen.
"I don't want my body to fail me," she whispered.
"It's not failing you," I said. "It's asking you to slow down."
She let out a shaky breath.
And leaned into me.
Fully.
Selin
I woke up on the couch.
Blanket over me.
Alekos beside me.
Still awake.
He was watching something on TV, volume low, one arm resting along the back of the couch like he hadn't moved all night.
"You didn't sleep?" I murmured.
He glanced at me.
"Didn't want to."
"Why?"
He shrugged slightly. "In case you needed me."
My chest ached.
But not in a painful way.
In a full way.
I shifted slightly, closer to him.
Not thinking.
Just… moving.
He didn't react.
Didn't tense.
Didn't pull away.
He just… let me.
Like it was natural.
Like it always should've been.
"Do you remember," I said softly, "when we used to fall asleep during movies and Nilay would yell at us for wasting electricity?"
He huffed a quiet laugh. "She still would."
"She'd probably walk in right now and accuse us of emotional intimacy instead of doing our job."
"That sounds exactly like her."
I smiled.
And rested my head against his shoulder.
This time—
He didn't hesitate.
His hand came up.
Slow.
Careful.
And settled lightly over mine.
No pressure.
Just… there.
We stayed like that.
Watching nothing.
Saying nothing.
But somehow—
Everything felt different.
Not like a contract.
Not like a countdown.
Not like something we had to finish.
But like something we were finally starting.
We didn't say it.
We didn't sit down and announce, "we're trying again."
It just… happened.
Not like before.
Not because of a schedule.
Not because of pressure.
But because neither of us moved away.
We were still on the couch.
Still close.
His hand resting over mine.
My head against his shoulder.
And the silence—
It wasn't heavy anymore.
It was… steady.
I shifted slightly, turning toward him.
Slow.
Careful.
Like I was asking a question without using words.
His eyes dropped to mine.
Searching.
Waiting.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
I nodded.
But this time—
I didn't lie.
"I'm scared," I admitted.
His thumb brushed lightly over my hand.
"I know."
"I don't want it to hurt," I whispered. "Not like before. Not physically… just—emotionally."
His jaw tightened slightly.
"It won't," he said. Not as a promise. As a decision.
I studied his face.
There was no distance in it now.
No walls.
No pretending.
Just him.
"Then stay," I said quietly.
Something shifted in his eyes.
Not surprise.
Not hesitation.
Recognition.
"I'm not going anywhere," he replied.
Alekos
This felt different.
Everything about it.
No alcohol.
No rush.
No hiding behind anything.
Just her.
Looking at me like she needed to know I was real.
That I wasn't going to disappear after.
That this wasn't just something to get through.
I moved first.
But slowly.
Like giving her time to stop me if she wanted to.
My hand came up to her face.
Gentle.
Always gentle.
She leaned into it.
That alone nearly broke me.
"Tell me if you want to stop," I said quietly.
"I won't," she whispered.
But I still watched her.
Still waited.
Because this wasn't about what I wanted anymore.
This was about us.
Selin
When he kissed me this time—
It wasn't overwhelming.
It wasn't consuming.
It was… careful.
Soft.
Like he was learning me again.
And I let him.
Because for the first time—
I wasn't afraid of what came after.
His hands didn't rush.
Didn't grab.
They stayed.
Like he meant it.
Like he wasn't going anywhere.
I held onto him—not out of desperation, but out of something quieter.
Something steadier.
Something that felt dangerously close to—
home.
Alekos
I didn't lose control.
For once—
I didn't want to.
I wanted to remember this.
Every second.
The way she looked at me.
The way she trusted me.
The way she didn't pull away.
I rested my forehead against hers, breathing her in like she was something I'd been missing my whole life.
"This is us," I said quietly.
Not a question.
Not a fear.
A truth.
Her fingers tightened in my shirt.
"I know."
And that was enough.
Selin
I closed my eyes.
Not because I was overwhelmed.
But because I felt safe.
With him.
Even now.
Even like this.
And somewhere, deep down—
Through all the fear, the pain, the uncertainty—
There was something else.
Something fragile.
Something growing.
Not just life.
Not just hope.
But something we never planned for.
Something we never agreed to.
Something that didn't belong to contracts or schedules or time limits.
Something real.