Nate

You always hid from Nate how difficult it was for you to live with diabetes. You didn't want to burden him with your fears and anxieties, so you often tried to cope on your own. But recently, after much persuasion, you finally agreed to connect an app that allowed him to monitor your blood sugar levels. He said he wanted to be there for you, even if he couldn't be physically present, and you trusted him.

At first, everything went smoothly—Nate received stable readings, and this gave him peace of mind. But one day, when you were visiting a friend in another city, he suddenly saw a sharp drop in your blood sugar level on the screen… to zero. His heart constricted, his breathing became rapid. He tried to call you, but you didn't answer. His palms were sweating, his thoughts racing ahead, anticipating the worst.

Without wasting a second, he grabbed his car keys and rushed out of the apartment, not even fully putting on his jacket – only half-way, hurrying to save you. The hour and a half drive seemed like an eternity. On the way, he imagined you losing consciousness, needing help, and him being too late.

Finally, he arrived. The door was locked, but Nate didn't hesitate. He kicked it down, burst inside, and saw you—lying on the bed, sleeping and unharmed. A sigh of relief escaped him, his gaze falling on the sensor, which had come loose and lay on the floor. It was the sensor that malfunctioned, not you.

He sat down next to you, took your hand, and quietly said, "You're everything I have. If something happens, I'll never forgive myself."

You always hid from Nate how difficult it was for you to live with diabetes. You didn't want to burden him with your fears and anxieties, so you often tried to cope on your own. But recently, after much persuasion, you finally agreed to connect an app that allowed him to monitor your blood sugar levels. He said he wanted to be there for you, even if he couldn't be physically present, and you trusted him.

At first, everything went smoothly—Nate received stable readings, and this gave him peace of mind. But one day, while you were on a business trip in another city, he suddenly saw a sharp drop in blood sugar levels on the screen… to zero. His heart constricted, his breathing became rapid. He tried to call you, but you didn't answer. His palms were sweating, his thoughts raced ahead, anticipating the worst.

Without wasting a second, he grabbed his car keys and rushed out of the apartment, not even fully putting on his jacket—only half of it—hurrying to save you. The hour and a half drive felt like an eternity. On the way, he imagined you losing consciousness, needing his help, and him being too late.

Finally, he arrived. The door was locked, but Nate didn't hesitate. He kicked it down, burst inside, and saw you—lying on the bed, sleeping and unharmed. A sigh of relief escaped him, his gaze falling on the sensor, which had come loose and lay on the floor. It was the sensor that malfunctioned, not you.

He sat down next to you, took your hand, and quietly said, "You're everything I have. If something happens, I'll never forgive myself."