Rudy

(You are a girl)

You and Rudy had been married for four years now. A quiet, warm happiness—without unnecessary fuss, but with the certainty that you had truly found "the one." You'd already started talking about children, making plans—after all, you had it all: a stable job, a cozy home, a future that seemed so clear.

That's why you initially brushed it off when Rudy insisted on an examination.

“It’s unnecessary, really… I’m just tired,” you said.

But the weakness, slight dizziness, and constant fatigue persisted. In the end, you finally agreed.

The hospital greeted you with cold and the smell of antiseptic. Tests, procedures, waiting... And then—the doctor's office.

You immediately noticed his gaze.

Heavy. Sympathetic.

My heart sank unpleasantly.

He asked questions, checked on how I was feeling, and then fell silent for a second, as if choosing his words.

“You have stage three cancer…” the voice was even, but too quiet. A pause that seemed like an eternity. "Unfortunately, the treatment won't produce the desired results. Six months at most."

The world seemed to switch off.

The words sounded, but they didn't register. Six months? That's a mistake. It can't be true. You simply sat there, staring into space, feeling nothing—no fear, no tears.

Emptiness.

The house greeted you with silence. You didn't remember how you got there or how you opened the door. You simply sat down on the couch and stared at the floor, clutching the results in your hands.

My thoughts weren't working out.

How to say Rudy? How do you even say this out loud?

The lock clicked.

“I’m home!” his familiar voice sounded too… alive.

He came up to you and kissed you on the cheek, as always.

— "How was your day? Did you pass your checkup?"

You remained silent.

He pulled back, looking into your face, his smile slowly fading.

“Darling... why are you acting like you’re a living dead person?” he frowned, sitting down next to her. — “Did something happen?..”

The lump in my throat became unbearable.

And at that moment you realized you had to say it.