I stood there, frozen in shock, as Jackson's words hung in the air. "You know I'm dying?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jackson's eyes locked onto mine, his expression a mix of sadness and determination. "Yes, Cecilia. I know. I saw your medical records at the hospital."
I felt like I had been punched in the gut. How could he know? I had kept it a secret, hidden it away from the world.
But as I looked at Jackson, I saw the truth in his eyes. He knew. And he had been keeping it inside, carrying the weight of that knowledge with him.
I felt a wave of emotions wash over me - shock, fear, anger. But most of all, I felt a deep sadness. I had been trying to protect him, to keep him from getting hurt. But now, I realized that I had only been hurting him more.
"Jackson, I..." I started, but my voice trailed off. I didn't know what to say.
Jackson took a step closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine. "Cecilia, I don't care about the diagnosis. I care about you. And I want to be with you, for as much time as we have left."
Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I looked at him. No one had ever looked at me like that before, with such love and acceptance.
And in that moment, I knew that I couldn't push him away. I couldn't hide the truth from him anymore.
But as I looked at Jackson, I knew that I couldn't stay with him. I couldn't bear to see him pretend to be happy, to fake those smiles and laughter. I couldn't bear to see him hurt more and more each day, as my condition worsened.
"Jackson, I..." I started, my voice shaking. "I think it's best if we just...if we just say goodbye now."
Jackson's face fell, his eyes wide with shock. "What? No, Cecilia, don't say that. We can face this together."
But I shook my head, tears streaming down my face. "You deserve so much more than a dying girl, Jackson. You deserve someone who can laugh with you, cry with you, grow old with you. And that's not me."
Jackson took a step closer to me, his eyes pleading. "Cecilia, please. Don't push me away. I love you."
My heart broke at his words, but I knew I had to be strong. For his sake, I had to let him go.
"I love you too, Jackson," I whispered. "But I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this because I can't bear to see you hurt anymore."
And with that, I turned and walked away, leaving Jackson standing alone in the darkness.
"It's best if it ends this way," I said, my voice firm as I left the room.
But Jackson followed me, his footsteps echoing behind me. "Cecilia, please don't do this. We can face this together."
I spun around, my eyes flashing with anger. "Leave me alone, Jackson. Just leave me alone."
But he wouldn't listen. He kept persuading me, his words wearing me down like a relentless drumbeat.
I felt my control slipping, my emotions raw and exposed. And in a desperate bid to make him stop, I lashed out.
"Get out!" I screamed, my voice echoing off the walls. "Just get out of my house and leave me alone! You're just a foolish boy who can't accept reality. I'm dying, Jackson. I'm dying, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."
Jackson's face crumpled, his eyes wide with shock and pain. He took a step back, his hands raised as if to defend himself.
And then, he turned and ran, fleeing my house like it was on fire.
I stood there, my chest heaving with sobs, my heart shattered into a million pieces. I knew I had hurt him, hurt him deeply. But I had done it to protect him, to save him from the pain of watching me die.
JACKSON POINT OF VIEW 
I walked home that night, my feet heavy with sorrow. I knew Cecilia was trying to push me away, but I couldn't understand why. Wasn't love supposed to conquer all, even death itself?
I thought back to the moment I told her I knew about her illness. Maybe I had made a mistake. Maybe I should have just kept pretending, kept living in the bubble of happiness we had created.
But I couldn't shake the feeling that I had done the right thing. I had to be honest with her, had to show her that I was willing to face the truth, no matter how painful.
As I walked, I wished I had never told her I knew. I wished I could go back to the way things were before, when we were happy and in love.
But deep down, I knew that was impossible. The truth had been spoken, and there was no going back.
I felt a lump form in my throat as I thought about Cecilia, about the pain and fear in her eyes. I knew she was trying to protect me, but I couldn't help feeling like I was losing her.
I didn't know what to do, didn't know how to make her see that I was willing to face this with her, to the very end. All I knew was that I couldn't give up, not yet.
CECILIA POINT OF VIEW 
I sat in my darkened room, surrounded by the shadows that seemed to closing in on me. I felt suffocated by my own grief, my heart heavy with the weight of my mistakes.
I hated myself for falling in love with Jackson, for allowing him to get close to me. I hated the fact that I had to yell at him, push him away like a cruel stranger.
But most of all, I hated the fact that I couldn't be with him, that my illness had taken that away from me.
I thought about Jackson's face, his eyes wide with pain and shock. I knew I had hurt him, and that thought was almost too much to bear.
But I pushed it aside, forced myself to be strong. I had made up my mind to cancel him out of my life, to erase him from my memories.
I couldn't bear the thought of him watching me die, of him suffering alongside me. I had to protect him, even if it meant destroying myself in the process.
I lay down on my bed, surrounded by the darkness, and let the tears consume me. I cried for Jackson, for our lost love, for the future we would never have.
And as I cried, I felt my heart slowly dying, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but a hollow shell of sorrow and regret.
I was lost in thought as my driver navigated the winding roads to school. The memory of Jackson's pained face still lingered in my mind, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt and sorrow.
Suddenly, my driver slammed on the brakes, and I was jolted forward. I looked up to see a car blocking our path, its engine purring menacingly.
"Who is it?" I asked my driver, my heart racing with anticipation.
He hesitated before answering, "It's Jackson, Miss."
My heart skipped a beat as I saw Jackson step out of the car, his eyes fixed intently on me. He looked different, his eyes burning with a fierce determination that made my skin prickle with unease.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as he approached my car, his long strides eating up the distance. My driver instinctively reached for the lock, but I stopped him.
"Let him in," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
The door opened, and Jackson slid in beside me, his eyes never leaving mine. "We need to talk," he said, his voice low and urgent.
I felt a thrill of excitement mixed with fear as I nodded, my heart racing with anticipation. What did he want to say? And why did he look so determined?