I wake up to a lot of shuffling, my tears dried up on my cheeks. My arm extends to find James's side of bed cold. A panic sets inside me as I sit up in the bed, looking for him. After spending hours in each other's arms in the nursery yesterday, he made us dinner. I was reluctant to eat, but he didn't let me sleep on an empty stomach.

When the night came, our thoughts turned darker but he didn't leave my side for a second. I think he did it more for himself than me but I'm glad he didn't.

He steps out of the closet with a bunch of clothes in his hands, making me frown at him. "What are you doing?"

"Packing." He rushes out, dumping the pile on the bed before going back in the closet.

"What?" I call out, confused as hell.

When he's back out again with my clothes, I rub my eyes to make sure that I haven't woken up to another ridiculous dream which doesn't make sense.

"James?"

He's panicking. I can tell it from the way his eyes cannot seem to focus on one thing. He moves around a lot when he gets restless which makes me get out of the bed. I walk up to him, catching his wrist as I make him face me.

"What's going on?" I ask, trying not to freak out due to his panic. "What are you packing for?"

"England." He pauses then his green anxious eyes meet mine. "We're going to England."

"What?"

He has lost it. He moves out of my grasp and brings out a huge bag. After collecting the clothes, he starts putting it one by one, making me swallow because I don't know what to say to him.

"James." My voice is a little firmer this time, making him stop in his track as he faces me.

"Yeah?"

"What's going on?" I repeat my question. "Why are we going to England?"

He finally lets go of the clothes and comes to stand in front of me, taking my face in his hands as he kisses me. I sigh against his lips when he parts. My entire life has been turned upside down in a matter of ten days yet the comfort he provides me remains the only constant in my life.

"I talked to Dr Green. She said you can travel, given that you feel alright. Do you feel okay?"

I nod at him, still trying to wrap my head around his words. It still doesn't make sense why he's packing for England out of all the places. It's not travelling to another state, it's another continent altogether. James always has my visa renewed through his connections in case we ever need to travel.

"After you went to sleep last night, I did a lot of research. I found out that the best uterine oncologist is in Birmingham of all the places. What are the chances?" He smiles a little, his words making me take a step back.

"Have you slept at all?" I ask him, scowling because that makes a lot of sense as to why he's panicking right now.

"No. I couldn't." He runs a shaky hand through his hair before he steps forward. "I got the company's private jet too. We'll be there by tomorrow."

"James, no!" I shake my head. "Baby, you can't keep doing this. There's only so much I can take, please."

"What?"

"I don't want to get a third opinion. I just wish you would stop being in denial."

I know my tone is a little harsh but I can't do this again. I can't let my hopes up after they have been so terribly crushed. There has to be a way for James to stop wanting to get a best doctor's opinion. Each one has offered me worse news. I can't have another doctor telling me that I might as well die tomorrow.

"Denial?" He scoffs, giving me a ludicrous look. "I'm not in denial. I just want the best for you."

"The best thing for me is to go back to sleep," I tell him, trying to bring him back to reality.

It took a lot of effort yesterday to let James come to terms with the news Dr Green broke to us. He cried for a while before he let me break down in his arms. I'm getting tired of crying too. Each day my mental energy is being sucked right out of me.

"Lillian, don't do that. I'm not trying to get a third opinion. I just want you to under the best treatment."

I let out a frustrated sigh as I meet his eyes which are conveying how exhausted he feels. "So, have you accepted that I have cancer?"

He grimaces at my words. I shake my head in disappointment. I can't even imagine the pain he must be going through. If the roles were switched, I don't think I would have the strength to leave the bed just imagining a life without him. But we make the best of what we get. That's what we've both learned. We will make the best of whatever years I get.

"You can't even hear the word, James." I point, throwing my hands in the air. "I'm not going to Birmingham."

He stares at me helplessly, almost making me change my mind as I step closer to him. I wrap my arms around him and he tightens the embrace, kissing my hair.

"Just because I can't hear the word doesn't mean I'm in denial. If I was in denial, I would be back at work right now."

I look into his eyes, my heart breaking each second as I hear his vulnerable voice. "Then why?"

"Because five years aren't enough, Lil." His eyes fill up. "I can accept that you have cancer, but I refuse to accept that we have to fit our dreams in next five years. I can't accept that in five years I'm going to wake up without you in my arms because trust me, if I even start to entertain the idea, I feel like I would die."

A sob escapes me at his words as I nuzzle further in his embrace, his words digging my deepest fears I shake in his arms. I suddenly understand that he doesn't want to get another opinion, he just wants me to have the best fighting chance at this. If not for myself, then I have to do this for him.

I nod in his embrace, speaking through my tears. "Okay, let's go to England. But please, this is the last one, okay?"

"Promise."

For him, I would do this over and over again because I want to fight this as much as he wants me to. Who the hell wants to know at twenty-two that they have just five more years at most to live? I swallow at the thought, pushing it at the back of my head.

James wasn't kidding when he said that he got the company's flight. The only time I've been in here is when we went to our honeymoon in Paris and our trip to LA. He didn't let me do any of the packing. I just sat on the bed while he asked me to make a list for over a week.

My head feels like it would explode at how quickly my life is moving. A month ago, I was at the happiest stage of my life. I was pregnant with the love of my life, but then ten days ago I had a miscarriage. I think that set up a tolerance of my pain.

I genuinely thought that losing my baby was the worst thing that could happen to me. But then I found out that I can never bear a child again due to the surgery that needs to be performed, and yesterday, I found out that I have cancer. Today, I'm on my way to a place I've never been before.

"Hey." James holds my hand, worry lacing his voice. "Are you okay?"

I nod at him, forcing a small smile. "Yeah. Are you?"

He shakes his head at me, and I appreciate his honesty. I don't think anything's going to be okay in our lives for a very long time. If getting a hysterectomy means doubling those five years, I would have that surgery here on this plane right now. Because I can't break his heart. I can't leave him. I can't leave my family. They have no idea what is even going on.

Tears sting my eyes as James brings up my hand to kiss and I lean on his shoulder, closing my eyes to give my mind and heart some rest. I sleep throughout the flight. James only wakes me up when we have to leave the plane.

"Come, there's a car waiting for us after we go through immigration."

"Of course, it is." I smile a little, trying to lighten his mood.

He rolls his eyes at me. We leave the airport in a black sedan. The new air which is chillier than Atlanta provides a great distraction as I keep my eyes focused on the new surroundings. When the car parks outside a house, we step out and my head snap towards James.

"You grew up here?" I ask him, my heart picking up at the happiness that comes with his nod. "Wow, it's beautiful."

It's a Victorian house. I haven't even stepped inside yet it seems beautiful from the yard and how well kept it is. James takes my hand, smiling a little.

"Let's get inside, yeah?"

Once we're inside, I realise that it's as beautiful from inside as it is from outside. There's a kitchen at the back of the living room which holds a small fireplace. The mantle holds some photographs so I immediately rush over there.

Oh my god. It has frames of little adorable James. I pick up the one with his mother and him in it, her blonde hair in a top bun like he has explained to me so many times. My fingers trace James's face as his dark blonde hair falls over his forehead and he's giving out a toothy grin.

"James, you were so adorable." I look at him, my heart swelling at how cute he looks. "And your Mom looks so beautiful. You've never shown me her photo before."

He shrugs, "Everything is here."

"Can we take it back home, please? Actually, I want to take more. Can we, please, please?" I jut out my lower lip at him and he laughs, nodding.

"Anything you want, love."

I grin at him, going back to see the rest of the frames. There are so many beautiful photos of James from his childhood, his green eyes and lashes even more prominent as a kid. As I look at these, it makes me realise how beautiful our kid could have been. I gulp, pushing back the tears that threaten to spill at the thought.

I'm barely holding myself together.

"Show me around?" I turn to him and he nods, extending his hand for me to take.

He shows me to his parents' bedroom. I notice the way his voice cracks when he talks about his mother. It must be hard for him to be back here.

"Miss her?" I ask when we enter the kitchen.

His eyes roam around the space before he nods. "Yeah. She would play old songs and dance terribly over here while flipping pancakes."

My heart hurts for him. I reach forward and kiss him, praying to whatever God is up there to not let this man face anymore hurt. He doesn't deserve an inch of it, and just being aware how much he's hurting right now, it makes me angry at my stupid body for developing a tumour.

He gets me my medicines from the bag and I swallow down the horrible pills which are another reminder of what a terrible situation we are in. I wish I could just forget about it, to wake up in an alternative world with James where thing can go back to being perfect like they were.

"We've got an appointment for early morning tomorrow. We can go to bed after dinner. You must be tired from the flight."

"Can I cook, please?" I ask, wanting to do so but knowing that he worries for my health.

Cooking wouldn't kill me. Cancer on the other hand, can't say the same. The thought makes me roll my eyes at myself. He nods reluctantly.

"Just please don't exert yourself. The house is well-kept, so everything you need should be here. Can I stay and watch? I'll keep out of your hair, I promise."

He won't keep out of my hair but we both already know that.

"Can you put some fire, please? It's very cold here, even with the thermostat." I rub my palms together.

"You got it, love."

After he sets the firewood, he comes back and keeps asking me questions related to cooking. He thinks I'm an idiot but he's just trying to keep me distracted. I can get super lost in my thoughts while making food. I just wish I could assure him that I'm going to be fine, but I don't know if I am.

"I think I overdid the sauce." I comment, stirring it.

"Now should be a good time to get it off the stove then." He smirks, making me throw him a look.

See, this isn't so bad. We can still be our normal selves even if I have cancer. It isn't a big deal. He doesn't believe me, but we can have our lifetime. Just in a little time.

"I'll set up the table," He tells me, taking the dishes from the cabinets.

This is the most normal we've been since the day of miscarriage. It's probably the new place that's making things easier and helping us break out of the sombre environment but I'm grateful for it.

We're in the middle of the soccer-football debate about how different it is for America and Britain when I feel myself gag. I quickly push back my chair and rush to the bathroom down the hall. James's panicked voice hits my ear as I start throwing up whatever I just ate.

"Lil?" He sounds worried so I flush the toilet before getting up and washing my mouth.

"Can you get me a glass of water, please?" I avoid his gaze and he nods, rushing out of the bathroom.

He's back in a minute as I feel the cramps emerging. I take the glass from his hand and gulp the contents in a second before keeping the glass on sink. I swallow, looking at our reflection in the mirror, my heart feeling like it can't take the pain anymore.

This is not who we are. This isn't what he deserves. We look so tired, so extremely tired for people who should be thriving at our age.

He comes closer as he wraps his arms around me from the back, his chin resting on my shoulder. His eyes meet mine in the reflection and I try to hold back the physical and emotional pain that threatens to overtake.

"I can't do this, James." I whisper. "I don't know how to do this."

"Shh. I know this is hard, love. I know you have to go through it but you aren't alone." He kisses my neck, making my tears appear at how calm he sounds. "Please, Lil. Don't give up on me."

His voice cracks a little but he doesn't show it. He gives me a reassuring smile and I nod, turning around to face him. My fingers run through his hair as I kiss his jaw.

"I hope you know that whatever happens, this right here, this is my lifetime of forever with you."

We hold each other for a while but I don't eat anything after that but I make sure James finishes his dinner. As much as I want to spend the night in James's childhood bedroom, his single bed wouldn't fit the two of us. So, we take one of the guest rooms. But he gets a bunch of photo albums for me to go through which earns him lots of well-deserved kisses.

I keep a few aside that I definitely want to take back home. Our apartment can do wonders with some of these photographs.

In the morning, James drives us down to hospital. It's weird being in England and to see him being so familiar with how things are here. His accent fits well with other people and he drives smoothly on the other side of the road.

"I want to take you somewhere after this, is that alright?" He asks me in the waiting room. "If it's too much, we can go tomorrow."

"No, I'm sure it will be fine."

Dr Neil meets us in another fifteen minutes. He has blonde hair and shiny eyes as he greets us with a warm smile. His accent is thicker than James's as he speaks.

"James, we spoke on the call." He shakes his hand.

"Yeah, I'm sorry if we urged this."

Dr Neil waves it off with his hand. "Not an issue. You made good use of the reference. How can I help you?"

"Can I?" I look at James and he gives me a nod so I turn to the doctor.

I explain to him my entire history, including the cysts I had over years ago. I don't miss out a thing even as my voice starts to crack and he's a patient listener. He asks questions wherever he feels it to be necessary before he asks me for my reports.

His eyes roam around the ultrasounds and biopsy files before he looks at me. "I would've run a test but you've just undergone a D&C procedure a week ago. The reports are conclusive, I'm afraid. Dr Green seems to know what she's doing, but if you want to get treated here, we can arrange that as well. We have the best facility over here."

"Will the hysterectomy eradicate the tumour completely?" James asks him.

"It usually does, if it already hasn't spread to the other parts of the body, like the ovaries or the fallopian tube. If need be, that would be removed during the surgery too, otherwise the reports are just restrained to your uterus."

His words make sense. I wish I could say that hearing another doctor had no impact on me, but it does. It hurts just as much as it hurt the first time but I swallow it down, because I have to learn to live with this. If I let my fear of cancer overwhelm me, how am I ever going to get the courage to undergo the treatment?

One of my mother's friend underwent chemotherapy and back then, I was in high school so I just heard about how painful it was. I need strength to undergo it.

"Is the chemo necessary after the surgery?" I ask him, dreading the side effects that come along with it.

I have used enough google to know where it would land me. It sounds like a worse nightmare than the one I'm going through right now and that's something.

"Yes, because sometimes undetectable cells are left. It reduces the chances of relapse, Lillian."

"And chemo alone cannot treat this?" I hate how hopeful James sounds.

Dr Neil doesn't show his annoyance at our questions and for that, I appreciate him so much.

"No, I'm afraid not. The growth is attached to the lining, so no matter what treatment, it would still remain there unless the organ is removed altogether. I know this is happening at a very young age, but just remember that chemo itself would remove any chance of fertility you might have."

He went straight for the bull's eye. I notice the disappointment on James's face as he nods, his grip tight on my hand as I give a small smile to the doctor, trying to practice my strength.

"Have you been suggested a psycho-oncologist?" He asks me and I shake my head. "It's a tough procedure. We have a team here, however, if you want to go back to the States, I would recommend consulting one."

"What is the life expectancy?" I ask the much-dreaded question.

"It depends from case to case. I'm hoping you would have a better response once you undergo the surgery. Average research says five years, but I've had patients who were diagnosed twenty years ago."

His words sound like water of hope on the fire of my burning heart. I try to hold onto it because lately it seems like someone has taken away every ounce of hope I had and crushed it under their feet.

We ask him a couple of more questions, whereas James based his questions more on the facility they have here. I already know where his head is at, making me frown. As soon as we're in the car, my heart is messed up enough when he looks at me.

"Okay?"

I nod but then shake my head. "I am not getting treated here."

"Lil–"

"No." My voice is stern as I look at him. "How can you possibly even think about it? I came here just so you know that whatever treatment I get back home is fine. He said Dr Green knows what she's doing."

"Did you not hear him say when he said he has patients who survived twenty years and are still alive?" He snaps at me, his tone taking me by surprise because he hasn't lost his cool with me since so many days now.

I knew it would come eventually; I just didn't expect it over something so stupid.

"Survive. Not live. I'd rather live for a year than survive through eternity." I yell at him.

"A year, seriously, a fucking year? Do you know how short that is?" He shouts back and I'm almost tempted to get out the car but I have no idea where we are. This a strange country. I don't want to die out there in winter.

"Don't shout at me," I tell him calmly, realising that fighting isn't going to get us anywhere. It will just make things worse.

He rests his head on the steering wheel as he takes in a ragged breath. "Don't talk to me like you're going to leave me."

"I'm not. James, can't you see? I'm trying but please understand me. I know you want the best for me, but the best is back at home. Dr Green is the best in the city, isn't she? She has a team of professionals too." I look at him but he just shakes his head at me before starting to drive.

When he parks the car on the sideway, my eyes look out the window and I immediately know where we are. He steps out of the car and I do the same. I silently take his hand and I'm glad when he doesn't pull away. There's a florist shop on the sideway and James leads us there. He buys a bunch of jasmines before he takes a deep breath, and I pull my coat tighter against my body as I tighten my hold on his hand.

We walk through the cemetery before we come across his mother's tombstone. I swallow, reading it.

Eleanor Clark. Beloved mother, wife and daughter.

James puts the flower over her grave before taking a seat on the ground as he pulls me along with him. He turns to me with a small smile and I return it.

"Hi Mum. It's been too long." He breathes, bringing our joined hands in his lap. "This is my wife, Lillian."

He tugs my hair behind my ear before kissing my forehead, and that's all the assurance I need to know that we're more than okay.

"Hey, Mrs. Clark."

"Eleanor." James corrects me and whispers in my ear, amused. "It's weird for you to call my Mum what I call you."

I stifle back my laugh as I nod. "Hey, Eleanor. Your son is the best man I've ever known, and I might've never known you but I know for sure if you were here, you would've been insanely proud of him."

"You mean that?" James looks surprised at my words.

"Of course, hon. Every word." I lean my head on his shoulder as I look at his mother's grave.

The sight makes a lump form in my throat as my vision blurs with the thought of death. I look up at James and he's pretty much mirroring my expressions.

"I can't do it again, Lil." He whispers, his voice breaking as he pulls me closer.

"You won't have to." I assure him. "I'm sorry about what I said. I'm here, James. Your Mum's going to have to wait for some company. Sorry, Eleanor."

He smiles at me, his eyes moving to the tombstone. "She would've survived if the doctors had detected her pneumonia earlier. I have trust issues with doctors. That's why I want the best for you."

I nod, already aware of the reason. I sigh trying to explain to him, "My whole family is back there, James. I want to be with them through this. I think they deserve to be with me too."

"Of course, love." He sighs. "I just wish there was something I could do."

"You're doing more than enough already. I'm sure he doesn't have magical hands, baby. I'll get treated back in the States and we'll still get our lifetime."

I know it's a bleak promise but I hope to god that I live through it. There is nothing more I want than our lifetime together. It would break my heart for him if that doesn't happen.

"You're going to fight through this." He states, sounding confident and I smile at him, nodding.

"It should be evident from our arguments now that I don't like losing."

He laughs at my comment, and I know that as long as I have him by my side, I would fight through anything to wake up to his face in the morning, to hear that sound for as long as my heart beats for him.