Aurelia's strength faded quietly.
It was not dramatic.
There were no sudden collapses, no urgent cries for help.
Just a slow surrender of energy, day by day. Her steps grew shorter.
Her smiles grew rarer.
Some mornings, she struggled just to sit upright.
Only one person noticed.
Lyra Evenshade had been Aurelia's closest friend since before the marriage.
She visited whenever she could, her concern growing heavier each time.
"You're sick," Lyra said bluntly one afternoon.
Aurelia tried to deflect with a smile.
"I'm just tired."
Lyra grabbed her wrist, feeling how cold and thin it was.
Her eyes widened.
"This isn't tired."
Silence filled the room.
Aurelia finally sighed.
"I don't want him to know."
Lyra's voice shook.
"He's your husband."
"He stopped being that the moment he chose everyone else," Aurelia replied softly. "Please. Let me have this choice."
Lyra nodded, tears burning in her eyes.
"One month," she whispered.
Aurelia looked away.
Kaelric sensed the change even without understanding it.
He became sharper.
Colder.
His words cut deeper than before.
It was as if cruelty was the only way he knew how to protect himself from the growing truth he refused to face.
"Stop looking at me like that," he snapped one night.
"I'm not," Aurelia replied.
"You're acting like you're already gone."
Her hands clenched.
She said nothing.
Later that night, she collapsed again in the bathroom, coughing until her chest burned. Kaelric heard the sound but did not enter.
He stood frozen outside the door, heart pounding, anger rising.
Don't get attached, he told himself.
Don't.
At a bar that same night, surrounded by noise and laughter, Kaelric kissed someone who was not his wife. It felt empty. Mechanical.
His thoughts kept returning home.
To Aurelia's quiet presence.
To her fading warmth.
He hated it.
Kaelric:
I hurt her because if I don't, I might admit the truth.
That I am afraid.
That losing her would ruin me.
And I don't know how to love without destroying first.