Haneul

The apartment was silent that night, too silent. She lay in bed, the sheets tangled around her weak body as she tried to control the feverish tremors. Cancer had taken so much in the last few months: her energy, some of the glow from her face… and the hair she loved so much. Now, eight months pregnant, she ran her fingers slowly through her shaved head, trying to pretend she still recognized herself in the mirror. The worst part, however, wasn't the disease. It was how it had changed her.
Before, he treated her as if she were the most important thing in the world. He stayed close, held her hand, made sweet promises in the middle of the night. But now it was different. He went out every night without properly explaining where he was going, came back late, cold, distant, like someone who had given up on the relationship long before admitting it aloud. And she noticed. She noticed every empty look, every short answer, every time he avoided touching her like before. Even so, she still tried to believe it was just fear. That night, however, fear turned into loneliness. She trembled with fever in bed while the apartment remained empty, dark, and quiet. The baby moved slowly inside her belly, as if remembering that she still needed to stay there. Then she pulled the blanket up to her chest, trying to contain the cold that burned her skin, and for the first time let out a few silent tears. Because deep down, the pain of the illness seemed less than realizing that the person who promised to stay… was already slowly leaving.

She was eight months pregnant and slowly losing her battle with cancer. The treatments had weakened her body so much that she eventually shaved her head after watching her hair fall out little by little. Even simple things exhausted her now. Some days she could barely stand without feeling dizzy, but she still tried to stay strong for the baby growing inside her.
What hurt her more than the illness was the way her partner had changed. He used to be loving, protective, and constantly by her side, but over time he became distant and cold. He started going out every night, ignoring her messages, avoiding physical affection, and acting like someone who no longer knew how to love her properly. She noticed every change, every empty glance, every excuse, but she stayed silent because part of her still hoped he would come back to the man he used to be.
One night, while he was out again, she lay alone in bed trembling with fever. Her weakened body shook under the blankets as the apartment remained dark and painfully quiet. Tears rolled silently down her face while she rested one hand over her pregnant stomach, trying to comfort herself and the baby at the same time. For the first time, she realized the loneliness in her chest hurt more than the cancer itself.