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

” he whispers.

I watch his throat move as he swallows.

He sets it down like it’s fragile.

“Sarah,” he says, voice barely there, “this is torture.”

I laugh once, sharp and humorless.

“Welcome to my brain,” I mutter.

Mike shakes his head, eyes wet.

“You shouldn’t have to do this alone,” he says.

I stare at him.

Then, because apparently I like setting fires in continue reading …