### **Chapter 4: The Hidden Truth**
Theo sat alone in a sterile city clinic, his fingers clenched tightly around a paper he couldn't bring himself to unfold. The doctor's words echoed in his ears like crashing waves: *degenerative*, *progressive*, *no cure*. It didn't matter how kindly they said it — the meaning was the same. His time was slipping away.
He had known something was wrong for months. The fatigue, the weakness, the flickers of pain. He had hoped it was stress. Maybe exhaustion. But now, the truth was carved into his bones.
Elara. How could he tell her? How could he let her watch him fade into someone else — weaker, frailer, lesser than the man she loved?
He imagined her eyes, how they sparkled when she painted, and the way her laugh cracked through the silence like light through clouds. He couldn't bear to be the reason that light dimmed.
So he made a choice. Not out of cowardice, he told himself, but out of love. He would leave — not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to spare her.
He would write her one letter. One last truth. But not yet. Not while she still smiled at him like forever was possible.
For now, he would pretend.