I'm staring outside the window. My gaze is onto the clouds. I can see her. I can feel her. Golden hairs flowing through my fingers. Grey eyes gazing her younger brother. A white dress twirling around her short legs. I've never felt so close to her before. My beautiful Eden. When I go, I hope to meet her.

Swipes of pink, orange and soft red are messily brushed all over the sky, showing the Great Artist's greatness through nature. The colors remind me of the sticker that's stuck to the bag with fluids, which are slowly dripping into my veins. You are sitting across me. Elbows on your knees. Cheeks resting in your hands. I'm just typing away. I wonder what's going through your beautiful mind at this moment.

Just one last time, and then we can go home and stay there for a while. I've been knitting more hearts. Sometimes I want to give you one, but I don't mean to put your strength to shame. Just because I'm carrying the disease, doesn't mean I have it harder.

I feel like sometimes, the disease is harder for the people surrounding the sick person. I see the pain in your eyes. I can feel it in your embraces. I hear it in your voice. You are suffering. Oh, how I wished I could take away all of your sorrows and pain. You are worth a million things more than all of this, Sole.

We're at home. I'm on the couch. You're cooking. Both waiting for our son to come home. Il mio motivo. Just like you are. The typing feels heavier. As if the typing machine is getting old and weary, finishing off our story, thinking he's heard it all by now. Maybe it's just my weakening strength.

Your cooking smells amazing, but at the same time I'm trying to hold down the content of my stomach. It pains me. I want to eat, want to enjoy, want to feel my roots. But at the same time my body is holding me back, telling me stop and not go further for no further damage.

Though, it feels like a blessing to know that I'm not going through this alone. You've been amazing, Zev. Still are. An amazing husband, father, friend. You try to keep all heads above water, even when I know you want to collapse to the floor at times too. And I wish you'd do it more often, so you gave yourself time to rest in these restless days.

Just a few hours, and it will be time to go to sleep. I can't wait to lie in your arms and feel as if everything will be just fine. No matter what happens.

It's a few days later. A lot has happened since then. I wanted to write you more, Sole, but I couldn't. When we went to sleep that night, the stomach aches were worse than before all of the chemo's and toxicity. I couldn't close one eye.

Moaned in pain. Couldn't breathe. And on top of that, the sickness made its way up all the time. Benjamin woke up because of me. Had a temper. You had to calm down the both of us. I feel so.. helpless. Another call to Teddy. Another bed to sleep in for Benjamin. Another hospital visit.

Emergency this, emergency that.

You carried me over to the car, wrapped me in blankets, strapped me safely before driving off to the hospital with an insane speed. So fast, it'd felt like I had been dreaming, and before I could realise it myself, I was in a bed. Nurses, doctors, machines surrounding me. But I could only feel your hand squeezing mine. I squeezed yours back. It went on and on.

It made me smile. I knew with you by my side, I would be okay. No matter what. You stroked my hair. When you pulled your hand away, I saw how your smile faltered. Your gaze fixed upon your hand.

I glanced the direction you were staring at. You had a handful of my hair.

"It's okay." I'd whispered. Stroked your cheek. "I've already knitted myself some nice hats."

Tears had formed in your eyes. They slipped down your cheeks quietly. Your head fell beside me, our hands entangled. You were exhausted. "I'm so sorry, Amore. So sorry. Why do you have to bear this sickness, why couldn't it be me?"

"Oh, Sole. God knows I wouldn't be able to live without you."

"So doesn't He know I can't live without you either?" Your eyes screamed despair. I kissed your face through the pain.

"You'll be okay."

Did I know? I don't know. Did I have a feeling beforehand? I don't know.

More examinations. More scans. More tests. Biopsies. Talks. Sleep. Hospital food. Calls with Benjamin the next morning. Watching you sleep. Stroking your hair. Listening to my own breathing. Which was a blessing itself. I thanked God for a new day.

I felt better the next day. The stomach aches were calmer, although I knew it were the morphine. The results came quickly. Apparently because it'd been an emergency. You told me I slipped away a couple of times because of the pain, but I don't remember that.

I'd wanted to walk, so you took my hands in yours. Enjoying the way you cared for me. Reminding me of the time you took Benjamins' little hands in yours to make him walk more and more after the day he'd learned. I couldn't stop staring at your face. It was as if you could fall down any minute and sleep until next year, but you pushed yourself through it all just to help me.

"Zev?"

"Amore."

"I want to go to the lake house. No matter the news."

"We can arrange that." You kissed me.

Finally seated onto those uncomfy chairs, that now felt like Heaven to me, I squeezed your hand. You squeezed back.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malin.." The Doctor cleared his throat, played with the edges of the papers he was holding. "To our great sadness, I have to inform you that the cancer has spread even more, despite the chemotherapy. Meaning you have stage four cancer, and the treatment will be changed from curing to relieving the symptoms and controlling the cancer for as long as possible."

We'd been quiet for a long time. And Zev, no matter how afraid I was, at the same time I felt so much calmness in me. If this was God's script, written for our lives, then maybe it had to be like this. And no, it would never take away the pain of leaving you and Benjamin behind, but He is beyond us. Things would fall into place. Maybe it had to be my time to meet our daughter.

We went home. You were numb. Couldn't speak. Could barely see, your thoughts completely clouding your view. You cried a million silent tears. I wrapped my arms around you before we stepped into the car. Kissed your face until my lips felt tingly. "Amore, we will make the most out of it."

When we had gotten home and had picked up Benjamin, I sat in the backyard in the sun, staring at Benjamin who was showing me how to catch cows with the rope. The way how to roll up the rope. The way how to hold it in your hands whilst you were on the horse.

But my ears had heard it all. The screaming, the crying, the trashing. I heard things break. I didn't know if it were our hearts or the vase you had gotten from your mother but hated in every single way. Because it weren't the colors of our house, it smelled like fish and it had been your father's gift for your mother.

I prepared a snack for Benjamin and let him play in the garden with his cowboy toys between the wildflowers, then slowly made my way up.

You stood at the window, face my way. Tears slipping through your hands. It was a complete explosion in the room. The blankets, pillows, pictures were everywhere. And the vase was too, in pieces scattered all over the floor.

"Zev.."

I don't think I had ever heard you cry harder and louder and childlike before. It tore me in two.

"Amore.." I squeezed you into a hug, kissed your tears away.

"I want to be strong for you, I want to comfort you, I want to take everything away. The pain, the fear, the misery, everything. And yet all I can do is weep and holding up the snot with my tongue." You buried your head in my shoulder, gripped onto my shirt. "And I stepped into a shard and my foot hurts like.."

I laughed a little, sat you down onto the bed. Cursed at you in Italian. "At least we have gotten rid of it now, with a.. well, proper excuse."

You chuckled too, rolled your tongue over your upper lip. I reached for a handkerchief and cleaned your face like I would clean Benjamins'.

"Let me see your foot."

You took off your sock. It looked painful, but within a little whip, the piece was out. I cleaned the tear, wrapped it up in a little bandage and helped you clean up the room. "We should go to Italy. I need the sun. It'd do me good."

"What about the treatment? The surgeries, the chemo?"

"I just got some pills." I told you, not wanting you to worry too much about it. "Please, Sole. Let's go now."

Not even a day later we were catching a flight. I loved coming home. Loved feeling the sun. Smelling it upon our skins. Meeting Mamma and Papà. My brothers. The house. The lake. The mountains. Eden.

Before we had left, we had told Benjamin the news. He hadn't showed much emotion. But when we tucked him in, he had cried oceans and feared falling asleep, afraid to wake up and see if I would live or would have died.

On one morning, we awoke early and decided to walk up to the blossom tree where Eden lay. Benjamin joined us too. We sat around her grave. Stared at dawn, how it beautifully painted the morning, awaking the world beneath her. A soft breeze, making the leaves rustle and the blossom falling on top of our heads. It got stuck in my hair. And I smiled. Felt pretty, even when bald spots had started to appear and my thick hair was becoming thinner and thinner each hour.

"That looks beautiful, Mamma. You are beautiful." Benjamin had played with my hair, but stopped when he had strands in his hands. He buried them next to Eden.

I hold this memory, oh so fresh, close to my heart. Just the four of us. Watching how the sky changed colors every minute, like the passing seasons, like our lives. Heard Benjamins' voice singing an Italian song, which we had sung on Eden's funeral. A children's song. Pure. Full of faith. He hadn't known we had sung it back then. That's when I knew things would be fine. No matter the way they would turn out.

We ate, we sung, we laughed, we swam, we read, we listened and we loved.

When the night had fallen, and we had tucked Benjamin into bed and had made sure he had fallen asleep, we went to our bedroom.

"Amore, give yourself to me."

You were taking off your socks, wanting to change into your sleepwear. "What?"

"Give yourself to me. Now."

"Aurora.. you must be in pain and.."

I closed the door with my toes, took off my dress, the clothes underneath. "Please. I know I'm close to being bald, lost tons of weight, look pale despite my natural tan and so many more things, but I want to melt together. Now. Sole."

You held my bare body against yours, your hands holding my cheeks gently. Our eyes meeting. "I don't care whether you're bald or not, whether you are thin like a stick or the opposite, I don't care that you look pale despite your beautiful Italian, sun kissed skin. No matter what, you'll always be the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my whole entire life. Ti amo, amore."

I cried. The hidden insecurities hitting me out of nowhere. But even when the sickness was trying to pull me down, I believed you.

We gave each other ourselves.

And when we lay there beside each other, with you sleeping already and me stroking your hair and back, I felt a deep pain stinging into my heart. Whispers into my mind.

Maybe, this was the last time. Maybe, this was the last time.

I cried myself to sleep that night.

We had very precious moments. Sometimes I went out on my own to think things through and forget about my disease as I heard other people's stories, passing out the self knitted hearts, or leaving them on the street so people would find them and would hopefully bring a smile to their face. I gave a heart to a younger woman in the big cathedral, who shared her deepest story with me, when no one else, besides her father, knew about it.

I think I'd given away more than twenty hearts in Italy. There is so much brokenness in this world, but for some strange reasons, it encourages me. For you, Zev. So many people went through so many things. And even if I have to leave the earth, you won't be alone. People will be around you, surround you, talk to you, take care of my two boys. I'm so sure of that. They will look out for you, if you give them the chance. God works through them, too, you know?

Amore, you know that the darkest night cannot outrun the sun? Not even the army of a million stars could fight against it, the wind cannot blow it away, the moon cannot push it away. No matter what happens, no matter what people say, what we experience, grief, sorrow, pain. Nothing, Sole. Nothing.

And when you're feeling so low, please remember that. Give people the chance, the opportunity to help you, too. For you won't be able to do everything on your own. And that is so okay, Amore.

Leaving Italy was incredibly difficult. For it felt as if it was truly the last time I'd see the lake house. The mountains. The lake itself. The Italian people. Mamma and Papà, Rafaelle and Vincenzo in this setting. And more painfully, Eden. Although it gave me a longing feeling to go, too.

I sat on my knees in front of her grave, brushed my fingers over her stone, where her name was engraved in. "I have a feeling I will meet you very soon, baby. Will you wait for me?"

We went back home. I started to feel worse and worse. But like I just told you; I'm ready.

•

Aurora's letters.. do you like the perspective? And what about her words? Her personality? I'd love to know what you actually think of her..

What about Zev handling the situation?

Let me know.. only a few chapters left. I think in total it will be 52 chapters.