Haechan left that night and came back the next day to collect items of his. You stayed silent in the living room as he left. Before Haechan closed the front door, he looked back to you once more. You didn't see it, but there was a longing in his eyes, and a flash of guilt and regret passing by. But he didn't fight for you. How fucking stupid am I? He thought with aching in his chest. Then, closed the door behind him.

The morning after that, you woke up your daughter for breakfast. She pouted and rubbed her sleepy eyes. "Daddy didn't come to say goodnight to me last night."

Your heart shattered when looking into her disappointed eyes. "Sweetie, Daddy isn't going to be around much. He doesn't live here anymore."

"Why not?" her eyes grew with curiosity and looked upset.

You bit the inside of your cheek. How are you supposed to tell your daughter that you and her father are no longer together? That he left to be with someone else? She wouldn't understand since she's so young, plus her knowing that he's no longer with her mother is such terrible news.

"Things have just... changed," you simply told her.

Time began to speed by you, and the medicine the doctors prescribed you seemed to be calming your symptoms—like what they were meant to do—but you were rapidly losing weight while looking extremely exhausted. You even lost a lot of energy. The doctors warned you that this would happen. That there's almost no escape.

Cancer is such deadly disease.

I guess Haechan wasn't the only one keeping secrets. You just never had the courage to tell him because then it would seem all too real. You tried to push it off, but as you continued to weaken, you began to accept fate as it is.

Now time has taken the lead. Only so long until you slipped into the hands of death. You sat down at your desk late one night since you couldn't find the peace to sleep. Pulling out a piece of paper, you began to write. You powered through your aching joints until you had finished your letter. Knowing it would be too hard to tell him in person, you wrote out everything on the paper with the title 'Dear Haechan'.

Carefully folding the note, you left it on the kitchen table, ready to be delivered. You shuffled back into your room to curl up in your bed, aching and fatigued.