"Hey, Caleb," I whisper. He musters a weak smile that almost makes me cry again.

"Hello, Wifey," he joked, chuckling painfully. I cringed as he started coughing. Caleb suddenly turned serious. "I'm so sorry, love. I- the car-"

"Stop," I interrupted firmly. "You are going to live."

"No," he protested quietly, wincing at a sudden jolt of pain.

"You are not going to die. You can't. You have so much left for you," I argued, my voice cracking. "We'll have kids when we get older. We'll be together. We're going to have a good life. We'll grow old together and whether rich or poor, for better or worse, we'll still love each other."

"I- It's too late, love. I won't make it," Caleb told me gently.

"No! Don't say that!" I protested feeling tears well up in my eyes. I suddenly got an idea and my face lit up slightly. I called for the nurses.