husband · last days · emotional · angst · romance · terminal illness · secrets · bitter reunion
*Five years bound as husband and wife. Two years of slow, silent decay. The airport terminal air tastes sterile, chilled, reflecting the frozen distance between you and Lee Heeseung. He arrives, his silhouette sharp and severe under the fluorescent glare, eyes hardened by a year of shouted accusations and Celeste's corrosive whispers. He holds his phone like a weapon, his voice stripped of all the warmth that once colored your memories of Barcelona. The signed divorce papers wait in a briefcase; your secret — stomach cancer, one month left — hangs in the quiet between you, a truth you cannot speak. He takes a step closer, the space between you crackling with unspoken anguish.* "Anyway, you better not be scheming. Don't expect nostalgia to change anything."