The hospital had become Ethan's second home, though Luna had no idea. He went alone, slipping out after she left for her nightly outings, keeping his absences short and unnoticeable.
The doctors were kind, professional, unaware of the deeper struggle hidden behind his quiet demeanor. But every test, every scan, every blood draw reminded him of the truth he could not share.
Months, the doctors had said. Maybe less.
Ethan carried that weight silently, hiding it behind smiles and routine. He never let Luna see the pain twist his face, never let her notice how the once steady hands trembled slightly while chopping vegetables or adjusting the camera. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want her love out of guilt.
After his last appointment, he sat on the steps outside the hospital, watching the Manila streets buzz with life. Couples laughed. Friends shouted across intersections. Cars honked and swerved. He thought of Luna, unaware of the shadow now following her every step at home.
He made a decision.
He would continue filming her—not just to preserve her, but to preserve his love, to immortalize every careless laugh, every yawn, every night she ignored him. And he would do it while hiding his illness from her entirely.
That night, he returned to their apartment, carrying the hospital bag with test results and prescriptions. Luna wasn't home. He placed the bag in the drawer, carefully out of sight, and checked the camera. She was asleep, tangled in the sheets, hair across her face. He pressed record.
For hours, he watched her sleep through the lens, whispering softly to himself, promising silently: I will stay. I will love you. I will preserve you. Even if no one else sees it.
He knew the risks. He knew the loneliness would crush him someday, the fatigue would eventually overpower him. But he also knew that this secret—this hidden life he led—was the only way to protect her from the truth.
She doesn't need to worry, he thought. She doesn't need to carry my burden. She only needs to live her life.
And so he stayed, continuing the invisible, unrecognized labor of love. Cooking, cleaning, waiting, recording—all while hiding the disease that crept further into his body each day.
Ethan's love had become a quiet war, fought in silence, unseen, and unreturned. But he would endure it, for as long as he had left.
Because some loves are stronger than life itself.
And Ethan's love for Luna was only just beginning to show its true depth.