A couple days later I was flipping through channels on the tv in his living room when I heard someone call my name. I fumbled for the remote and pressed pause. Maybe it was just my imagination. Then it came again. Maybe Frank was talking in his sleep?

"Rose..." he started saying with more urgency. His voice got louder, to the point where he was almost screaming my name to get my attention. I nearly tripped over the couch and ran up the stairs to his bedroom.

I opened the door quickly and found him writhing himself into a ball on his bed, sobbing his eyes out. I ran around the bed and got a look at his face. Tears streamed down his cheeks, escaping from his tightly shut eyes. He was trying so hard to hold back while I was in the room. It was hurting him more.

I thought this was it. This was the day. I didn't know who to call or what to do, only that he needed help.

"H-honey what's wrong? What's happening?" I asked nervously.

He pulled a shaky breath in and coughed violently. His back arched and he fisted the sheets on the bed, "Chest pains," Frank barely wheezed out.

This has happened before, but never this bad. I think he's panicking, like bad. I sat up on the bed and moved his now sweaty hair from his forehead. He choked back sobs and tried desperately to catch his breath. His body would jerk, like he was hit with something and he would cry out again.

For three minutes, I sat with him like that and he didn't get any better. I walked out into the hallway and grabbed his oxygen mask. They'd only told me to use this for emergencies. This felt like one.

I connected it up to him and watched his back fall to the mattress. He was slowly starting calm back down. Still, he radiated pain.

I crawled into bed and wrapped my arms around his trembling body. He rolled over, the tubes from his mask tugging on his face. He cuddled into me and close his eyes. I held his head in my hands tightly, fighting back the urge to cry. I've never seen him so weak in my life.

I have to be strong. I have to be strong for him. He can't see me cry. I'm all he has. I'm his only hope and he's mine. I can't let anything happen to him.

"I-I love you," he caught me off-guard. Frank was looking up at me with tired eyes.

I bit back a cry and smiled weakly. He closed his eyes, but I still answered back, "I love you too." My voice broke. I wiped the tear stains off of his cheeks and sniffled.

Once he was asleep for sure, he looked like an angel. He was the most peaceful looking person on the earth. His expression had relaxed and he breathed shallowly through his lungs. Once and a while you'd hear a wheeze or a snore when something was blocking him from breathing properly. I guess the mask was sort of helping. It fogged up inside every time he breathed out.

I didn't want to, but I carefully slid away from him and held it in until I was in the living room again. I turned off the television and threw myself on the couch to once again cry myself to sleep.

That's the night I knew everything was going to change. Everything was going to get a whole lot worse, and I didn't know if I was strong enough to watch it all happen.