an's

years

. I am an architect, mar

d the start of a lifetime filled with warmth and certainty

eamed when a truck burst in

oes. It surged forward, ruthless and fast,

toward me. The same hand that had brushed my cheek only hours earlier slammed me back against the seat,

xploded into countless shards. The car screamed as its frame twisted apart. The seatbelt snapped tight acro

sides. What I noticed first was his arm. It was still stre

is temple, cutting across his ashen skin, and in that mome

ely carried, swallowed b

longer rose. His eyes, the ones that had always looked at

dly touch him. His skin still held warmth, but it was slipping

bled out as broken pleas. I whispered against his cheek, against the blood,

e beyond the crushed metal, voices rose in confusion, distant and warped, like I was hearing them from underwat

e world outside might a

ross me, heavy and protective, and the truth crept in slo

without hesitation, yanking the wheel toward himself an

rst! Please, hel

o that last, fragile hope, even while

of dawn. Someone draped a blanket around my shoulders, but it

ned red, became the last image I'd carry of him-a final proof that my world had changed forever. No

my belly, where the tiniest part o

From this day on, all my love belongs to you. Stay

myself to keep moving.

hatever it took, I would build the best life possible fo