He sat, slumped in his chair, by her bedside. Lines in his face, tears in his eyes, cracks in his heart. He was broken, he was brittle, shattered and afraid. And he’d lost the pieces somewhere along the way.

She stirred. Hoarse, ragged breaths mingled with the beeps of heart monitors. Sounds of death. Sounds of life. A jagged, green, pulsing line beeped across the screen. It was her lifeline, her last chance, the beat of her heart, the sound of her steps as she walked away down a path he could not follow.

He whispered in her ear and squeezed her hand.

“Emma. Emmy.” Weakly, she woke up.

“I…I brought you a flower.” He held up the daisy and her heart fluttered.

She winced sadly. “I’ll be pushing up daisies soon enough, won’t I, Edward?”

He fell to his knees beside her. Kissed her cheek, touched his forehead to hers, tightened his hold on her hand.

“I’m here. Just take my hand. I’ll never let go.”

A tear slid down her cheek. And for the first time since the day Cancer became her fate, she smiled.