The sun beat down on my face as I lay on the grass, my head resting on Nathan's chest. I could hear his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, as we gazed up at the clouds drifting lazily across the sky.

It was a perfect August day, the kind that makes you forget about everything else for a while.

But I couldn't forget, not really. Not when my body kept reminding me with every ache and pain that time was slipping away.

Two weeks had passed since I'd woken up properly in the hospital. Two weeks that had flown by in a blur of doctor's appointments, medication adjustments, and long naps that never seemed to make me feel any less tired.

It was hard to believe that I'd been out of it for a whole month before that. A whole month of my life, gone in what felt like the blink of an eye.

And now it was August. Nathan's 18th birthday was just around the corner. And after that...well, I tried not to think about it too much, but the doctors' words echoed in my head.

Three months.

That's what they'd said.

Three months left to live.

I shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position. Even lying still on the soft grass was uncomfortable these days. The palliative chemotherapy wasn't doing what it was supposed to do. Instead of easing my symptoms, it felt like they were getting worse by the day.

Constant headaches pounded behind my eyes, nausea was my constant companion, and I'd lost count of the number of times I'd found blood where it shouldn't be. Even my periods had gone haywire, coming and going as they pleased.

But the worst part was the exhaustion. It seeped into my bones, making every movement a monumental effort. My bucket list, once filled with dreams and adventures, now seemed like an impossible mountain to climb. I'd wanted to do so much, to squeeze every last drop of life out of the time I had left.

But my body had other ideas.

There was one thing left on that list, though. One final goal that I clung to with all my might.

Organ donation.

It wasn't the most exciting dream, not like skydiving or visiting Paris. But it felt important, like maybe I could leave something good behind when I was gone. If the cancer didn't ruin that too, like it was ruining everything else.

"That one looks like a rabbit," Nathan's voice broke through my musings, his finger pointing at a cloud drifting overhead.

I squinted up at the sky, trying to see what he saw. "Really? I think it looks more like a duck."

Nathan chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "A duck? No way. Look at those ears!"

"Those aren't ears," I argued, a smile tugging at my lips despite my gloomy thoughts. "They're its bill."

"Agree to disagree," Nathan said, his arm tightening around me. "What about that one? What do you see?"

I stared at the cloud he was pointing at, trying to make out a shape. It was harder than it used to be, my eyes not quite as sharp as they once were. "Um...a tree, maybe? With really droopy branches?"

"Hmm," Nathan mused. "I was thinking it looked more like a fountain. You know, with water spraying up and then falling back down?"

I nodded, even though I couldn't quite see it. "Yeah, I can see that too."

We fell silent for a moment, watching the clouds drift by. It was peaceful, lying here with Nathan, playing this silly game like we used to when we were kids. For a moment, I could almost pretend that everything was normal. That we were just two teenagers enjoying a lazy summer day, with our whole lives ahead of us.

But we weren't. And the thought I'd been pushing away for weeks now bubbled up again, impossible to ignore.

I'd heard something, during those hazy days in the hospital when I was drifting in and out of consciousness. Nathan's voice, low and serious, talking to my dad. Asking for my hand in marriage.

At first, I'd been sure it was real. It had felt so vivid, so clear. But as the days passed and Nathan didn't say anything, I began to doubt myself. Maybe it had just been a dream, my mind playing tricks on me while I was out of it. After all, why would Nathan want to marry me now? We were so young, and I was...well, I was dying.

I wanted to ask him about it. The words were on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill out. But something held me back. Fear, maybe. Or the desire to hold onto this peaceful moment for just a little longer.

"Hey," Nathan's voice broke through my thoughts again. "You okay? You've gone all quiet."

I blinked, realising I'd been lost in my own head again. "Yeah, sorry. Just thinking."

"About what?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

I hesitated, unsure how to answer. Should I tell him about what I thought I'd heard? Ask him if it was real? But what if it wasn't? What if I'd imagined the whole thing?

"Just...stuff," I said finally, hating how vague it sounded. "You know, the usual."

Nathan was quiet for a moment, his hand gently stroking my arm. "You can talk to me, you know," he said. "About anything. Even the hard stuff."

I swallowed hard, fighting back the sudden lump in my throat. "I know," I whispered. "It's just...sometimes it's hard to find the right words."

"That's okay," Nathan said. "We can just lie here if you want. You don't have to say anything."

I nodded, grateful for his understanding. We lay there in silence for a while, watching the clouds drift by. I tried to focus on the moment, on the warmth of the sun and the comfort of Nathan's presence. But my mind kept wandering, jumping from one worry to the next.

I thought about Nathan's upcoming birthday. He should be excited, planning parties and thinking about university. Instead, he was here with me, watching clouds and pretending everything was okay. It wasn't fair to him. None of this was fair.

And then there was the organ donation. I hadn't told Nathan about it yet. I wasn't sure how to bring it up. How do you tell your boyfriend that you're planning what to do with your body after you die? It felt morbid, talking about it in the bright summer sunshine.

But I knew I had to. Time was running out, and there were so many conversations we needed to have. So many things left unsaid.

"Nathan?" I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" he replied, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on my arm.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "I've been thinking about something. Something important."

I felt him shift slightly, probably trying to see my face. "What is it?"

"I..." I started, then paused, struggling to find the right words. "I've been thinking about organ donation."

Nathan was quiet for a long moment, his hand stilling on my arm. When he spoke, his voice was careful, controlled. "Organ donation?"

I nodded, still not looking at him. "Yeah. I...I want to do it. If I can, I mean. The doctors said it might be possible, depending on...you know, how things go."

"Oh," Nathan said softly. "I see."

I waited for him to say more, but he remained silent. Anxiety bubbled up in my chest. Had I upset him? Was he angry? I couldn't bear the thought of him being upset with me, not now.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I know it's a lot to think about. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"No, no," Nathan said, his arm tightening around me. "It's okay. I'm just...processing, I guess. It's a big decision."

I nodded, relief washing over me. "I know. But it feels important, you know? Like maybe I could help someone, even after..."

I couldn't finish the sentence, but Nathan seemed to understand. "Yeah," he said softly. "I get it. It's...it's very you, actually."

"What do you mean?" I asked, finally tilting my head to look up at him.

Nathan's eyes were shining with unshed tears, but he was smiling. "Always thinking of others, even now. It's one of the things I love most about you."

I felt my own eyes welling up, and I buried my face in his chest, not wanting him to see me cry. Again. "I just want to do something good," I mumbled into his shirt. "Leave something positive behind, you know?"

Nathan's hand came up to stroke my hair. "You already have," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You've changed so many lives, Beth. Mine most of all. But if this is something you want to do, then I support you. One hundred percent."

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze. "Really?" I asked, hardly daring to believe it.

He nodded, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to my forehead. "Really. Whatever you decide, I'm with you. Always."

I felt something ease in my chest, a tension I hadn't even realised was there. "Thank you," I whispered, snuggling closer to him.

We lay there in silence for a while longer, the conversation about organ donation hanging in the air between us. It wasn't resolved, not really. There were still so many details to work out, so many conversations to have with doctors and my parents. But knowing that Nathan supported me, that he understood why it was important to me, made it all seem a little less daunting.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass, I found myself thinking about the future again. Not the distant future - that was still too scary to contemplate - but the near future. Nathan's birthday, just around the corner.

"We should do something for your birthday," I said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us.

Nathan shifted slightly, looking down at me with a puzzled expression. "My birthday?"

I nodded, pushing myself up on one elbow so I could see his face better. "Yeah, your 18th. It's coming up soon, right?"

"Oh," Nathan said, looking away. "Yeah, I guess it is."

His lack of enthusiasm surprised me. "Don't you want to celebrate?" I asked, a hint of worry creeping into my voice.

Nathan shrugged, still not meeting my eyes. "I hadn't really thought about it, to be honest."

I frowned, studying his face. There was something he wasn't telling me, I could feel it. "Nathan," I said gently, "what's going on?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's just...it doesn't feel right, you know? Celebrating when..."

He trailed off, but I knew what he meant. When I'm dying. When our time together is running out.

"Hey," I said, reaching out to turn his face towards me. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, he met my gaze. His eyes were filled with a mix of emotions I couldn't quite decipher.

"Your birthday is important," I said firmly. "It's a big deal, turning 18. And I want to celebrate it with you. Please?"

Nathan looked at me for a long moment, his expression softening. "Are you sure?" he asked. "I don't want you to push yourself if you're not feeling up to it."

I nodded, trying to inject as much enthusiasm into my voice as I could muster. "I'm sure. We'll keep it small, okay? Just us, maybe our families. But we should do something. Make some good memories."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Nathan's mouth. "Okay," he said softly. "If it means that much to you, we can do something."

"Good," I said, settling back down against his chest. "Because I already have some ideas."

As I lay there, listening to Nathan's heartbeat and watching the sky turn pink with the approaching sunset, I felt a glimmer of something I hadn't felt in a while. Hope, maybe. Or at least a sense of purpose.

I might not have much time left, but I could still make it count. I could still create moments of joy, still show the people I loved how much they meant to me. And maybe, just maybe, I could leave something good behind when I was gone.

It wasn't the future I'd dreamed of, not by a long shot. But it was the future I had. And I was determined to make the most of every moment.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​