I married my patient knowing she had only three days left to live — but after her funeral, her sister approached me with a small box and whispered, “She made me promise not to give you this until she was gone.

My name is Lucas. I’m thirty years old, and becoming a doctor was the only dream I ever had.

My parents weren’t wealthy, so I spent my medical school years studying during the week and working long shifts on weekends just to pay my bills.

I sacrificed almost everything to become a doctor.

But nothing in medical school prepared me for Alicia.

She was eighteen, beautiful, and somehow the funniest person in the entire hospital.

Even when her treatments left her exhausted, she found reasons to laugh. She joked with the nurses, teased me about my serious expression, and always had some ridiculous story to tell whenever I entered her room.

“Doctor Lucas, has anyone ever told you that smiling is completely free?”

I’d pretend to be annoyed.

She’d burst into laughter.

Somewhere along the way, I began looking forward to seeing her more than I should have.