Looking back on it now, I realize that the only reason I did it was so that he would not have to be alone, so that he would not have to go through the appointments and the constant tests by himself. It seems stupid that I even agreed to it. My mother had warned me that it would just end bad. The doctor's would not be able to save him and no matter how much I prayed, God would not allow a miracle to happen.
I hated seeing him slipping away in front of my eyes. I hated seeing the way he acted when he was tired and weak. I hated going to those goddamn appointments with the doctor who had overly huge classes and always called me by the wrong name. I hated people who would get to know me and then when then found out what was wrong with my husband, they would shake thier heads and say "I'm so sorry, honey." I hated their fake sympathy. I hated people telling me that it was a mistake that I married. I hated how they didn't think I truly loved him. I did. I still do, no matter what anyone says.
But to see his smile when I was with him, to see the joy in his face when I accepted his proposal in the back of a small Italian restaurant, made it all worth while. I know it hurt the most when I realized that he was truly going to leave me forever. I would never grow old with him. Hell, we wouldn't even get to celebrate the first year of our marriage. But to just give him some ounce of support, some hope, in a world that seemed to be turning against him made being with him a little more easier.
It had been a mistake to say yes.
Muse: Allison Cameron
Fandom: House, MD
Word Count: 376