Elena
I didn't tell him about the dizziness.
Or the way my fingers trembled when I tried to brush my hair that morning.
I smiled. I held his hand. I kissed him like everything was normal.
Because I couldn't let this perfect day fall apart.
"Where are we going?" I asked as Zayden led me blindfolded across the clearing near the lake house.
"You'll see," he whispered, his voice tinged with mischief and excitement.
When the blindfold dropped, I gasped.
A sleek black helicopter sat in the field, its blades slowly rotating.
"You said once you always wanted to see the world from above," Zayden said, his eyes soft. "Let's cross it off."
He helped me in and sat beside me, his grip on my hand firm. As the helicopter lifted, I felt the weightlessness—not just physically, but emotionally. For a moment, everything below us—worries, pain, reality—blurred into insignificance.
The landscape rolled beneath us, trees stretching like a sea of green, rivers winding like silver threads.
"Do you like it?" he asked quietly.
I turned to him, tears in my eyes. "It's… everything."
But then the pressure in my chest returned, like a fist curling around my lungs.
I squeezed his hand tighter.
Don't ruin this. Not now.
---
Zayden
Elena's face was radiant, her eyes lit up like the sky outside. But I noticed something—her skin was a little too pale. Her fingers were cold.
Still, she laughed and leaned into me, and I let myself believe everything was okay… even if every day I knew we were running out of time.
---
Noah
He stared at Elena's latest photo on her stories—a snap from the helicopter, her lips smiling but her eyes… dimmer.
Then he scrolled further and paused.
A reflection in the glass—a small pill bottle on her nightstand.
Noah zoomed in. The label looked off. The brand didn't match what she used back in college when she had migraines.
"She's sick," he whispered to himself.
And Zayden wasn't telling anyone.
---
Celeste
She watched from a distance as the maid cleaned Elena's apartment.
Earlier that day, she'd walked in under the pretense of being a concerned friend—and while the woman had stepped away, Celeste slipped a replacement bottle into Elena's drawer.
Identical label.
Completely different formula.
Toxic in higher doses.
"Let's see how much Zayden cares once she starts unraveling," she hissed.
---
Back at the cabin that night
Elena curled beside Zayden on the couch, his arms wrapped protectively around her. They watched old movies, sharing popcorn and laughter, wrapped in blankets like a fortress.
But when she stood to go to the kitchen, the world tilted sharply. Her hand gripped the wall.
"Elena?" Zayden was already on his feet.
She blinked. "Just got up too fast…"
He walked to her, cupped her face gently. "You're cold."
"I'm fine," she lied, smiling.
But Zayden's chest tightened. He knew that smile. The one that was always hiding something.
---