I Promised My Son Forever—Then Cancer Made Me Count the Months

the rest of me is shrinking.

I brush my teeth slowly, careful not to gag. Chemo has turned my mouth into a battlefield. Everything tastes like metal and regret.

Behind me, the door creaks and Mike appears, rubbing his face.

He doesn’t say good morning. He doesn’t say anything. He just leans against the doorframe and watches me like I’m a candle he’s afraid continue reading …