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“Cold and confused, I moaned in pain as my ears continued to ring and my eyes began to darken. There was so much blood. Shadows lurked nearby—as if Death herself were stalking me. A Reaper—a farmer of souls, loitered in the back seat, waiting to take me. I could feel her presence as she waited to harvest.”

“I want you to know I have never loved anyone like I love you. More than Darcy loved Elizabeth or Heathcliff loved Cathy. I just don’t want to make you a widow.” “I never really understood why Brontë is considered to be a romance writer. We were required to read Wuthering Heights in high school and I always believed that her novel showcased the bleakest aspects of human nature. The story provided readers with a small yet unforgettable glimpse into the depths of human cruelty. Personally, I never considered the story romantic because the love shared between Cathy and Heathcliff was fatal, not just for themselves but for those around them. Their souls were incompatible, and they were a toxic pairing. Despite their love, passion, jealousy, and desire for connection, they were unable to recognize this fact.” “I was never a fan of Victorian romance novels.” “It was never one of my favorites. It’s often viewed as one of the great romance novels of all time, but I think it represents something darker: the fatal, selfish side of love, obsession, and abuse. To this day, I have not encountered a more accurate depiction of how love can become selfish.” “Why do you say that?” Xuan asked. “Because I think you have to love someone in the way that I love you to truly understand what love means... and to understand how wrong the story is. My soul and yours are the same in a way that Catherine and Heathcliff’s could never be. Widow or not, I will never stop loving you, Xuan. You have mesmerized me. My very soul has been entangled completely by you over these past three years. If Brontë or Austen could write the greatest love story of all time they’d write our story. And whether you marry me or not, how I feel about you will never change.”

“The mean-spirited, unpredictable cancer beast had changed all of our lives. There were unspoken details of our life before cancer. Now, only the stark reality of life after cancer remained. I was acutely aware that, regardless of the treatment’s outcome, we were bound in a race against time. A relentless clock, damnably ticking away, measured the fleeting seconds of Xuan’s life. Its insistent rhythm served as a re- minder of our finite journey. Though it may have momentarily paused, the clock would invariably resume its steady wind down toward zero.”

“Most of my friends didn’t believe in destiny. Nothing supernatural, nothing sent from above... no magic, no fate, just life, circumstances, and probability. But there were many signs from the universe pointing to Xuan. I never thought my love story would begin as a blockbuster, but everything that happened seemed like a big neon celestial sign that we were meant to be together. My friends would never understand, not really. If I hadn’t met Xuan, I would likely feel the same as them.”

“People don’t have anniversaries for the day they fall in love.” “They should. I remember every day and every moment that was special with you. Love is fragile... a gift. And when you love someone, you should be the caretaker of their heart.” “Loving you has been the greatest gift I’ve ever been given. You know that, right?” Xuan nodded and then pulled me close to him as if to reply. The feel of his lips on my neck was like an electric shock, making the little hairs stand. “Stay still or I’ll ruin your makeup,” he whispered in my ear. “I don’t mind being fashionably late,” I suggested.”