Please Come Back, My Love novel Chapter 134

Chapter 134

Elena: POV

I held Mom close in that sterile hospital room, my arms wrapped tight around her frail body. She felt like she might break-all sharp angles and hollow spaces where there used to be warmth and substance

“Are you sure?” My voice cracked. “You really don’t want to do the treatment?”

She pulled back just enough to look at me. Her eyes were red, exhausted, but calm. Like she’d already made peace with something I couldn’t even

comprehend.

‘I’m sure, sweetheart.”

“But-

“Elena.” She cupped my face with her thin hands. I could feel every bone, every fragile joint. ‘I don’t want to spend what’s left of my life miserable and sick. Hooked up to machines. Puking my guts out every day. Losing my hair. Being too weak to get out of bed.”

“I don’t care about any of that.” Tears streamed down my face, hot and relentless. “I just want you alive.”

“I know.” She wiped my tears with her thumbs, the same way she had when I was little and scraped my knee. “I know you can’t bear to watch me leave. But everyone dies eventually. I really don’t want to choose to die in agony in a hospital.

I wanted to argue, To scream. To grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. To force her into that goddamn treatment chair and make her fight, even if she hated every second of it.

But looking into her eyes, I saw something I’d never seen before.

Peace.

Not acceptance. Not resignation. Just… peace with her choice. Like she’d been carrying this decision around for months, turning it over in her mind until all the sharp edges were worn smooth.

And fuck, that broke me even more than her diagnosis had.

“Okay.” The word came out strangled, barely recognizable as my own voice. “Okay, L… I respect your decision.”

She pulled me close again. I buried my face in her shoulder and sobbed like a kid-ugly, desperate crying that came from somewhere deep in my chest. Her sweater smelled like the lavender detergent she’d always used, mixed with something medicinal that made my stomach turn.

We stayed like that for a long time. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting everything in that harsh hospital glow. Somewhere down the hall, a phone rang insistently. A cart squeaked past the door. Normal sounds of a place where people fought for their lives every day.

Finally, she pulled back. Her own eyes were wet, but her voice was steady. “Let’s go home.”

Dr. Smith was waiting outside the exam room when we emerged, leaning against the nurses station with a clipboard in his hands. He looked up as we approached, his expression cautious but kind.

3:05 pm MA

Chapter 134-

may face with the back of my hand, trying to pull myself together. My eyes felt swollen, my nose stuffed.

“We’ve decided. My volee sounded steadier than I felt. “We’re not doing the chemo.”

He nodded slowly, like he’d expected this. Maybe he had. Maybe he’d seen this conversation play out dozens of times before.

“I understand.”

“I respect my mother’s wishes.” I swallowed hard, the words tasting bitter. “And I’ll be with her. For however long she has left.”

“That’s all any of us can do.” He looked at Mom with genuine compassion. “Josephine, I’ll send over information about palliative care options. Pain management, hospice services when the time comes. You won’t have to suffer.”

The word hospice hit me like a physical blow. So final. So… real.

Mom squeezed my hand, “Thank you, Dr. Smith.”

He handed her a folder thick with pamphlets and forms. “Call me if you need anything. Day or night. I mean that.”

We walked through the hospital corridors in silence, past other families dealing with their own crises. A woman about my age sat in the waiting area, clutching a coffee cup with shaking hands. An elderly man pushed his wife in a wheelchair, whispering something that made her smile.

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