LOGAN
"Talk to me, buddy. How is the treatment going?" I asked, pulling my chair closer to his bedside.
He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, his face tight with exhaustion. "There is no cure, Logan. You should try and accept that." He reached out, taking my hands in his.
My heart absolutely dropped at his words.
"What do you mean? I thought you said you were getting better." I swallowed hard, searching his eyes for any sign that he was just messing with me, but there was nothing but grim reality.
"I lied, Logan. I didn't want you to worry." He gently squeezed my hands, his voice dropping to a painful whisper. "The doctor told me yesterday that I only have two months to live. Pancreatic cancer is no joke. You have no idea the kind of pain I'm in right now."
"What am I supposed
