Ethan woke that morning feeling weaker than ever. The ache in his side had become sharper overnight, a gnawing reminder that his body was no longer his own. Cooking breakfast—something that had once been effortless—felt like lifting a mountain.
He moved slowly, pressing a hand to his stomach as he chopped vegetables, careful not to alert Luna to the pain that clenched his ribs with each breath.
She wasn't there. As usual, she had gone out with Maya, leaving the apartment to him and the silence he had grown accustomed to. She didn't call, she didn't ask, she didn't care.
He set the food on the table, perfectly arranged, knowing she might not even eat it. But he continued his routine. Cooking, cleaning, waiting. Recording.
The camera had become more than a tool—it was a lifeline. Ethan captured her in every small, unguarded moment, even when she protested or yelled. The memory of her stubborn resistance, her playful annoyance at being filmed, was now a treasure he could hold onto when the nights became longer, and his strength began to fade.
By midday, his weakness was undeniable. Standing for too long made him dizzy. Walking across the apartment left him breathless. Still, he refused to show it. He would not let her see.
"Ethan…" he whispered softly, pressing a hand to the camera lens. "Please… let me remember you."
Hours later, Luna returned, laughing, still glowing from the party. She barely noticed him. She dropped her bag, kicked off her heels, and flopped onto the bed. Ethan's heart ached, not just from the illness, but from the reality of her indifference.
"Morning," he said, trying to sound cheerful.
"Mm," she replied, scrolling on her phone. She didn't see the tremor in his hands, the pain etched faintly across his face, or the effort it took for him to sit up straight.
Ethan pressed record, capturing her, preserving her. Her laughter, her movements, her very presence—all moments she gave without realizing their value. And as he watched, a cold clarity settled in him: his time was running out.
But he would stay. He would endure. He would love her in silence, in secret, until the very end.
Because some love isn't returned.
Some love isn't recognized.
Some love is only known through sacrifice.
And Ethan's love was one of those loves.