Michael was overcome by the sheer force of Amelia's words, causing him to let out a sharp gasp. The pain he felt was unlike any physical sensation he had ever experienced before, not even comparable to being stabbed, broken limb, or burned. It was a sudden and all-encompassing evil that gradually consumed every part of his being, akin to a crucifying agony. 

He spent nights consumed with rage towards Isabella for abandoning him without ever reaching out. He believed she didn't truly care for him as she left without a word of her whereabouts. Although his initial reaction was one of fury, his feelings of love for her never waned. Standing there in a state of frustration, Michael felt remorse for allowing his anger to overshadow the fact that Isabella was enduring her own struggles. The thought of what she might be going through consumed him.

“Is she in a lot of pain?” He asked timidly.

Amelia sighed. "Physically, she's been struggling. But emotionally, she's been incredibly strong.“

Michael nodded, understandingly. "I cannot imagine what she must be going through. Can I see her now?"

“Of course,” Amelia smiled gratefully. "I am glad you are here. She could really use some company. The treatment has been quite isolating for her.”

Amelia informed Michael of the room number and, after some time passed, Michael found himself in front of her door.  But he could not seem to open it. The pain he was experiencing was excruciating, and every part of his body was throbbing. It felt like there was a tight knot or a tear in his stomach and throat, as if he had been punched repeatedly in the stomach. He struggled to catch his breath. Michael stood there for half an hour, unable to accept the shocking reality in front of him.

Gently, he turned the knob of Isabella's bedroom door. The blinds were tightly shut, allowing only a faint glimmer of light to filter through. Despite the dimness, he could make out the delicate form resting on the bed, facing away from him. Had Amelia kept Isabella's illness a secret and Michael unexpectedly appeared in Isabella's room, Michael would not have been mentally prepared to hide the hurt that would inevitably surface. Softly, Michael quietly shut the door behind him as he entered the room. He did not want to disturb Isabella if she was already asleep. However, upon closer inspection, he realised she was wide awake. With slow, lethargic steps, Michael made his way around the side of her bed, stopping to take in the sight of the girl lying in front of him.

The love that used to be so incredibly beautiful had now transformed into a delicate skeleton lying on the bed in front of him. Her once creamy and flawless skin was now thin and pale, lacking the vitality it once had. Her stunning eyes had lost their brightness and now held a faint glimmer of life. Dark circles lingered underneath, evidence of sleepless nights. The luscious cherry black hair that always cascaded effortlessly down her back was no longer there. However, her face still retained its beauty.

Michael's uncertainty about the girl lying on the bed being Isabella evaporated as soon as she locked eyes with him and flashed her signature smile that never failed to make him forget everything else. Emotions overwhelmed him, and he felt the urge to collapse in tears, but he fought it back. He could not show his vulnerability to her, not when she was struggling to survive. He had to be strong for her, to be her unwavering support.

Isabella's soft tone rang out. "Michael. You actually came.”

It had been far too long since he last heard her soft, childlike voice, and he never imagined he would have the chance to hear it again. Despite her sickness and her altered appearance, in Michael's eyes, she was still the most beautiful girl. She was, and would always be, his Isabella.

"Of course I came, Bella,” Michael said with a weary sigh. His gentle voice still carried a touch of sorrow as he spoke.

“I did not expect you to drop everything and rush over here,” she said. “I hope you were not very busy.”

Michael shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I was not busy at all.” He fibbed. “Besides, you know me, Bella. It is always you that I would do anything for. No matter what else is going on."

Isabella's face softened. Her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Michael. I really needed to hear that."

"Please don't feel the need to express gratitude," he reassured her with a gentle tone. “I will always be here for you.”

Isabella struggled to sit up, but her weakened state proved too difficult for her. Michael, who was nearby, immediately rushed to her side and carefully supported her. He helped her into a more comfortable position. However, he felt a sense of fragility as he touched her thin and delicate body. The fear that she might break apart in his hands was a terrifying thought. 

“I have never felt this weak before. I can't even lift my own body anymore,” Isabella expressed her frustration.

Michael carefully positioned a pillow to support her back. "Do not worry and just allow yourself to lean back and relax."

As she watched with keen interest, Isabella could not help but analyse every inch of Michael's flawless physique as he nonchalantly removed his team jacket. The sight of him never failed to stir butterflies in her stomach, and she was determined to commit every detail of his perfection to memory. With a sense of almost reverential awe, Isabella took in every aspect of his being, from the way his muscles flexed and moved to the way the light danced across his chiseled features.

“Bella, you have gotten quite thin. I know you are not well, but have you been eating enough?”

She purposely averted her gaze. “I have been attempting to, but my appetite has been lacking as of late."

"I understand," Michael remarked with a contemplative tone, and a lull of quietness encompassed them once again.