Just before my son proposed, my little niece knocked the ring away and shouted: “Stop! This isn’t real!”

Louis partied, slept, daydreamed. He talked about projects but never followed through. I supported him, scolded him, encouraged him. Nothing worked.

Then one day, I couldn’t ignore that persistent pain in my side. After extensive tests, I found myself sitting across from Dr. Carrel.

“I’m sorry, Julien,” he said. “The cancer is very advanced. With treatment, you might have about a year left.”

I clung to the diplomas on his wall. Harvard. Johns Hopkins. Maybe he was wrong?

“Are you sure?” I asked.

He nodded. “We double-checked everything. You should start making arrangements.”

My business was thriving. My finances were solid. But Louis… still lost in adolescence.

That night, I barely slept.

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