Flash fiction: “All the hope in the world”

Was there anything I could have done before all of this? Anything that could have helped her?

There must have been something. But I couldn’t see it back then.

I’d like to say that everything turned out well, but this isn’t that kind of story.

I loved her. I did. The kind of love that only a few people ever have the privilege of experiencing. She was everything to me. She was my everything. I would have done anything if it could have made her stay.

I like to think we had it all, that we achieved everything that we dreamt of. That the life we built together was everything, we had both dreamt of.

We had finally built the home of our dreams. It was perfect, down to the last detail. It was the house where we were going to have our children, where we would watch them grow up.

Not long after the house was built, she fell ill.

We were hopeful at first. And for a long time, it looked like our hope was turning into a reality.

But all the hope in the world wasn’t going to save her.

A year after the diagnosis she started getting worse.

By the end it was quick.

Now I sit in the house we built together and think, I think about all the things we would have done together if only we would have had a little more time.

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