“Oh my god! Jackson. Jackson. Jackson! We have to get this dog!”

Mark’s cheerful voice rang in my head. The last time he was so uncharacteristically happy and excited was two months ago. When he was still healthy, when he was still able to walk on his own, and not take so many pills and when he wasn’t so pale and fragile and whe—

“Jackson?” Mark’s voice was weak and his hand was so cold as it cupped my cheek. My heart clenched painfully in my chest as I watched him struggle to lay on his side and face me.

“Yes baby?” I quickly leaned forward and placed a hand on his side, stopping his efforts. I tried to ignore how I could feel his each of his ribs against my fingertips.

He gave me a weak smile. “You were thinking about the the better days, weren’t you?”

I shook my head with a fake laugh. “What are you talking about? I don’t need daydream about them, soon enough you are going to get better and live through them…we will be able to make even more memoires.” I reached up to my face and took his hand in mine, squeezing lightly before turning it palm up and kissing the marks on his wrist where the nurses poked him the most.

Mark smiled brightly at me, his eyes almost full of life, until he suddenly started a painful round of coughs. I quickly stood up and grabbed the glass of water on his nightstand.

Rising it to his chapped lips, I whispered, “drink.”

He threw me a grateful glance before gulping the glass down in 3 loud shallows. “Thanks.” He mumbled, laying back into the hospital bed, wincing with the effort. I nodded before turning around and setting the glass back down with shaky hands. I was so thankful that that wasn’t a full blown attack. I was so scared a moment ago.

“Jackson?” Mark called out again.

I turned back around, trying to still my heart and hands. “Yeah honey?”

“Can you come hold me?” he asked, reaching out to me with shaky hands. Cold, shaky hands.

I exhaled slowly, trying not to break. “Yeah. Yeah. I can.”

I carefully climbed into the bed, gathering him into my arms while avoiding the numerous tubes and needles in and around him. He felt so thin and delicate against me, all sharp edges and just so cold. As he snuggled into my chest, I buried my face into his hair. He didn’t even smell like our shampoo anymore, he smelled of the sterile hospital air and just…not like my Mark. I listened as his breathing slowed, hoping that this would not be the last time that I saw him awake. I thought of my mother, who was also sick and not in full health. I hoped and prayed that I wouldn’t lose the both of them to a sickness that could not be cured. Closing my eyes, I tried to also fall asleep, when Mark mumbled through the clutches of sleep.

“Don’t…worry Jacks…” Then there was such a long pause. Long enough, I thought he had fallen asleep, when he started up again. “I’m…going to…get better. You…aren’t…going to…lose me. I promise…you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes and escaped into his hair as I held him closer with a light laugh. “I’m holding you to that, Mark Tuan. You have to make sure you follow through on that. Baby, you have to.”

He smiled and leaned out of my arms, traces of sleep removed from his eyes. Reaching up with one hand, he wiped away my tears and kissed me. Softly. “Don’t you worry. I will. In sickness or in health, I’m going to stay here, right here with you.”

Gasping loudly, I released the breath I didn’t even know I was holding and pulled him back into my arms. “You better.”