When There Is Nothing Left But Love (Ashton And Scarlett)

The doctor was an old professor who was around sixty years old. He took off his glasses after hearing Camelia’s question and sighed before he looked at us gravely. “His condition is worsening rapidly. We are going to need to intensify the frequency of his treatment and up the dosage of his medication, too. This won’t be comfortable for the patient. He would have a better time if he was checked out and brought home to rest. I called you both here to ask if you would like to continue with his treatment here or…” He trailed off.

“How could this be?” I said in disbelief. “He managed to eat some food yesterday, and we brought him out to get some sun earlier today. He seemed to be in better shape than before. Could there be a mistake?”

Camelia was quiet, but she had her phone in a vice grip below the table. She was clearly holding back her emotions and trying to stay calm as she squeezed out a pained smile. “If we up his medication dosage, would he still be able to live for a few more months as predicted before?” she asked in an almost pleading tone.

It was the doctor’s turn to fall silent. He frowned and shook his head as he sighed, leaving no hope to be found.

The scariest thing that could happen wasn’t falling into despair. It was the feeling of getting kicked back into the dark abyss of hopelessness after seeing the faintest glimmer of hope.

“Impossible,” I murmured to myself, trying to stay calm.

getting better! You’re the doctor here, so how could you ask us to let him go and

hitting the table over and over again in frustration. All I could do was hug her tightly, trying to contain the

hurriedly as he got up and tried to help Camelia’s situation. He finally gave us an explanation we couldn’t deny. “We have already explained the situation to you during our last few consultations. Chemotherapy is extremely harmful to the patient. The reason he suddenly changed and seemed better is clearly due to terminal lucidity! His energy is close to being used up. If we drag things out any

lying! You’re lying. Marcus won’t die so

get the doctor to leave first so that we could have

calmed down and slumped down in her chair with an empty gaze. It was

relief when she suddenly sat upright and gripped my hand tightly. “You promised me that you would marry Marcus. You’re still following that

about this whole thing,

it tomorrow,” she said. “We’re running out of

wedding dress again. Putting it on after my actual wedding had

in a black suit, and his gaze met mine through the reflection of the mirror. “Are you ready?”