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Leaving her work gave her more time to do what she wanted to do. On days she would get bored or forget Maxen stationed his office in their home, she would try to learn all sorts of things. She learned pottery, sometimes she would paint. When those days her brain would return to her younger self, she would claim Maxen's office as hers and would treat him as some sort of butler.

It was just a span of months, and yet Cosette's condition drastically deteriorated.

"It's beautiful, right?" Maxen spoke, sitting by the shore as he watched the sunset with her.

"Mhm." Cosette smiled, resting the side of her head on his shoulder.

It was almost their anniversary, so Maxen took her to the beach once again to relax. At this point, her complexion was pale. She told him she didn't want treatment, but later on, agreed to have some dialysis and chemotherapies with the condition she would be going home. That explained the cover around her head.

"Max?" she called after a minute of silence, hearing him answer with a hum. "Was it hard?"

Maxen sported a short smile. "I wouldn't say it was easy, but it was manageable."

"I see…" she blinked ever so tenderly, breathing in the salt air blowing past them. "My memories were too foggy, so I don't remember everything. Still, I'm sorry if I said something terrible."

"You would be surprised how tamed you were."

"How tamed?"

"Just… you know." He let out a faint and short chuckle. "It always reminds me how precious my wife was, and how grateful I am."

If only she knew that most of her episodes were just Cosette, planning how to get on Maxen's good side, she would laugh. It gave him a glimpse of how silly she was; a perspective he was unaware of back when they were teens.

"Cozie," he called once again, and this time, Cosette was the one who hummed. "About your last tests… do you remember?"

"They were bad." Her eyes were weary and heavy. "I don't think we can fulfill our promise of getting married with a different theme, huh?"

"We got married just three times," he recalled. "Do you remember the last two?"

"What were they?"

"A garden wedding and a beach wedding."

"I see…" Cosette chuckled quietly. "Seven more to go."

"Mhm. What were the motifs you want again?"

"How about a Victorian wedding theme for the fourth?"

"How about the fifth?"

"Hmm… how about…" Cosette paused to cough. "An underwater one?"

Maxen chuckled. "And the next one?"

"A wedding in a hot-air balloon?" she suggested. "And then, on our eighth wedding, I want a street-style wedding."

"How do you even get married in street style?"

"I already had everything planned." The corner of her lips stretched. "Remember my journal?"

"You wrote it there?"

"Not just my plans, but also many things."

"I see…" Maxen rocked his head in understanding. "Is this the time I can finally get a hold of that mysterious journal?"

"Well…" Cosette chuckled, only to let out a series of coughs. She covered her lips, and then when she pulled her hand away, bitterness flickered in her eyes. Maxen glanced at her and caught the blood on her palm, offering her a white handkerchief.

"Were you immune to seeing this?" she asked as she accepted the handkerchief.

"Not immune, but rather, prepared," he corrected, biting his inner lip. "After all, that is the only thing I can do."

She smiled a short smile, resting the side of her head on his shoulder once again. She clenched the handkerchief, casting the fading sunset a look.

"How long since you got to talk to me like this?" she asked, and he answered with all honesty.

"About a month ago."

"So it's that long, huh?" her smile was bitter, keeping quiet for a moment. "Maxen, will you read the journal when I can't get up anymore or when I need a bedtime story?"

"Is that journal that important?"

"Of course." Another short laugh slipped past her pale lips. "It's my favorite story, after all."

"I see."

"Maxen."

"Hmm?"

"If you read something unpleasant in that journal… remember that my heart only belongs to all versions of you." Her eyes felt heavy and her voice was hushed. "Though… I deeply wished that that story ended with a happy ending. How nice would that be?"

Maxen lowered his eyes, sensing her breaths grow deeper. He took a jagged breath, smiling despite having tears in his eyes. His other hand reached for a journal that was resting on his side.

"Cozie?" she called, and she hummed weakly. "Are you sleepy, my love?"

"No…" her denial didn't match her exhausted voice. "Dad, can you read me a bedtime story? I'm scared of nightmares."

Maxen held his breath as he looked up, telling himself to keep himself together. "You want that story again?"

"Mhm. I think we're in the part where Maxen proposed to Cosette. What did her dad do?"

"Well, we'll find out if I read."

"I hope they get a happy ending."

Maxen remained silent, turning his head to look at her. "Of course, they have, Cosette."

"Hehe…" she giggled, keeping her eyes closed. "Do you know why it's my favorite?"

"Because you have the same name as the female lead?"

"Yes, but Maxen is always my favorite."

"Wasn't he a bad guy?"

"Why do you care? He used to be a bad guy, but he is my favorite character, period."

"Maxen is such a lucky guy." Maxen cleared his throat, opening the journal to read the things that weren't written there since they already reached the blank pages of it. Cosette couldn't write the story anymore, after all. Hence, his assignment was to make her happy, even if the happily ever after she was waiting for was something he had to make up.