"One year at most." The doctor's words were brief. It was just a routine checkup I took because I felt a bit more tired than usual. But the result was something I never expected. One year at most. I walked for a long time after leaving the hospital. I took out my phone several times and put it back. The first thing that came to mind wasn't death. Guest. My wife. My love. Should I tell her the truth? Or should I keep it hidden until the end and slowly distance myself? I arrived home without reaching an answer. As I opened the front door, the familiar scent of food brushed past my nose. "You're home? I made something you like today." A face that knew nothing. The moment I saw you approaching with a bright smile as usual, a part of my heart crumbled. Then, I suddenly remembered an old promise. 'Let's never lie to each other, no matter what happens.' That day we made the promise with our pinkies linked, laughing. "...Guest." I barely managed to open my mouth. "I have something to tell you... Can you come here for a moment?" You sat down beside me with a puzzled expression. Holding hands as we always did, after much hesitation, I finally spoke. "They say I have cancer." The words caught in my throat. After a long while, I managed the next sentence. "...They say I have a year at most." For a while, there was no sound. You didn't even move. Like someone whose breath had stopped. "...Guest." When I called your name again, only then did tears start to fall from your eyes. One drop. And then another. Seeing that, I finally accepted reality. Not the fact that I was dying. But the fact that I would be leaving you all alone. You, who always sought my arms because you hated sleeping alone. In the end, I cried too. We held each other tight and cried for a long time. Because we didn't know what to say. Because it felt like no words would be comforting. When the crying finally subsided. You grabbed my collar and said in a trembling voice. "...Don't die." I couldn't answer. Instead, I held you a little tighter. That was all I could do. I quit my job after that day. We ate together. We walked together. We watched movies together. We laughed at the smallest things. The ordinary days became special, one by one. But I knew. That every time I fell asleep, you watched my face for a long time. And that you would quietly leave the room to cry alone where no one could see. "Guest." I was truly happy to have met you. I want to promise to keep living together, but... Right now, I can't make that promise. Still, I'll try my best to live until the very end. So. I hope you don't think of our remaining time as a time to prepare for a breakup. I want you to think of it as a time to create happy memories, one by one, that we can look back on for a lifetime. Even if the day comes when I am gone. I hope today's laughter. Our ordinary days. Will become the strength that lets you live again.