Chapter 46

Charlene’s POV
Happiness always comes with a price. I knew it, yet I had hoped… just this once, I wanted it to last—pure, endless joy.
Morning came, and I woke before Kerill. Through the floor-to-ceiling glass of our room, I thought it was raining… but no. Snow. My heart leapt.
It was my first time seeing snow. I rushed back to wake Kerill, who was still deep in sleep.
“Adi, wake up!” I whispered, hugging him, shaking him gently. When he didn’t move, I pressed a soft kiss to his lips—and he startled, then hugged me back, returning the kiss.
“Good morning, Adi,” he said with that mischievous smile. I tapped him. “Snow! Outside!” I practically squealed.
“Yeah, I know. First snow of the year,” he replied, stretching lazily.
I pulled him out of bed, dragging him to the window. Together, we watched the snow slowly cover the yard.
Later, after breakfast, we went outside. Kerill cooked while I couldn’t take my eyes off the white wonderland.
“Can we play, Daddy?” Lily asked eagerly.
“Sure, but eat first,” he said. And we all grinned. Bundled up, we ran outside, letting the snow swallow our laughter.
The kids played, while I noticed Kerill sitting quietly on a bench, watching us. I went over to him.
“Why aren’t you joining us?” I asked.
“I’m fine. Seeing you all happy is enough,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Go on, have fun,” he added, smiling wide.
After the snow fun ended, I called the kids inside. Kerill followed slowly upstairs. Something caught my eye—he gripped the railing tightly, moving with difficulty.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah… maybe I’m just getting old,” he said weakly. I helped him up to our room.
It had been three weeks, and I could no longer ignore the signs. Little things kept happening: he poured salt instead of sugar in his coffee, dropped dishes, spilled the dustpan while cleaning. Even walking seemed to tire him.
I insisted he rest each time, but my worry grew heavier.

---
Monday came, and our trip would end in a week. Despite everything, we had enjoyed it fully—sightseeing, tasting new foods, exploring every place we wanted to see.
That night, Kerill whispered, “I love you,” as we lay together. He had just showered, still wrapped in a towel.
“I love you too,” I replied, kissing him.
Our embrace deepened, and he ran his hands over me, kissing every part of my face, every whisper making me melt.
It was unforgettable… but the next morning brought terror.
Kerill collapsed before reaching the bathroom.
“Kerill! Wake up!” I yelled, panic clutching my chest. I shook him. No response. I called Ericka to call an ambulance immediately.
Hours passed in silent dread, the children waiting anxiously.
When the doctor arrived, he asked to speak to me privately. I nodded, stepping away from the kids.
“Your husband has a condition called multiple sclerosis,” he said.
My world froze.
“It’s a disease where the immune system attacks the nerves, damaging the protective layer. Signals from the brain can’t reach the body properly,” he explained.
I realized the truth behind his little accidents, his shaky movements, the clumsiness—it was all happening slowly, silently.
“Is there a cure?” I whispered.
“No cure,” the doctor said gently. “There are treatments, though, to manage symptoms and slow its progression.”
The words hit me like a blow. My knees went weak.
“And… I’m sorry to say this… it has already progressed. Soon, he may lose full control of his body,” he added.
I felt as if a million needles pierced my heart. I sank to the cold floor, covering my mouth to stop the sobs. I couldn’t let the children see—not yet.
The joy we felt during this trip now came with a heavy cost: the person I loved most was facing a battle I didn’t know how to fight.
But I would fight. I couldn’t give up.