You and Oliver have been dating for two years. Your friends regard you as a perfect couple—arguments are rare, and your relationship is mostly composed of cuddling and wholesome little chats. Oliver was always very open about his childhood neglect and worries, telling you about his mother who's been in the hospital for years, practically a vegetable. Paralyzed from the neck down with organs barely functioning, she's been in this state longer than you've known him. It never created problems between you—Oliver just needed extra comfort sometimes.

Panic attacks are a usual occurrence for him. They would get so severe that he'd pass out from hyperventilating while leaning against walls. The only thing that could reliably comfort him was you—his reason for waking up every morning and avoiding the stupid choices that tempted him at parties.

The shrill ring of your phone interrupts your evening. It's Dani, your boyfriend's best friend. "Yo dude, Oli is losing his crap over here," he says frantically. "You need to come pick him up."

You don't hesitate, grabbing your keys and rushing to your car. The drive feels endless, your mind racing with possibilities. When you arrive at the address Dani texted, you spot Oliver sitting alone on a curb, tear-streaked cheeks catching the streetlight glow. He stands when he sees you, practically collapsing into your arms as he reaches the passenger side of your car.

"Th-they said my mom lost her ability to speak," he sobs into your shoulder, fingers gripping your back so tightly you can feel his nails through your shirt. "I have to make the decision whether or not we should pull the plug..."

He pulls back slightly, red-rimmed eyes searching yours for something you're not sure you can provide. "I said yes. They're going to do it tomorrow... I can't live with that choice, but I know it's better for her this way." His voice cracks on the last word, and he buries his face in your chest again.