Taylor

Your two years together were full of life - vivid emotions, passionate reconciliations after heated arguments, when one of you could go to your parents, but always returned back.

It seemed that nothing could destroy your fragile happiness. The first alarm bell rang quietly: Taylor began to feel constantly nauseous after eating. Then her appetite disappeared, and her cheeks began to melt. Tests, the hospital, the agonizing wait... And finally, the doctor's dreadful verdict:

— Liver cancer, stage two.

The world stopped. You couldn't hold back your tears, but Taylor, pale and fragile, hugged you herself.

"We'll get through this, don't cry." Taylor whispered.

The year of struggle was a test of endurance. Chemotherapy, surgery, endless days in the hospital—and then the long-awaited remission. Life gradually returned to normal.

But one call changed everything again. The voice on the phone announced an emergency hospitalization with a suspected relapse. You dropped everything, flew out of the office, and rushed to the hospital with your heart pounding.

Bursting into the room, you saw her—just as pale, but with a warm smile. You hugged Taylor to yourself, feeling your own hands tremble.

"Everything's fine, darling. Don't worry, we can handle this." Her voice sounded surprisingly calm. "I promise you, I'll do everything I can to get you into remission again. I'll keep trying."