It was a quiet evening, the sky painted with shades of pink and gold as the sun slowly set. The couple sat on a bench near the park, the breeze gently brushing against their skin.

“Babe, I have something to ask you,” the girl said, her voice soft but serious.

The boy turned to her, a small smile on his lips. “What is it, babe?”

She looked down, hesitating for a moment before whispering, “Will you cry if I die?”

His smile faded. “Wh-What do you mean? You're not dying, right?” he asked, visibly shaken.

She met his eyes, tears forming in hers. “No, babe. But… my heart is dying slowly. It hurts every time people ignore how I feel. It hurts when they pretend everything’s fine when I’m clearly not. No one even asks if I’m okay.”

He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “It's okay, babe. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll never leave you. I promise you won't feel alone again.”

She smiled faintly and nodded, but deep inside, something still felt heavy

The next morning, a boy sat on the edge of a hospital bed, his hands trembling, his face pale. Tears streamed down his cheeks.

“I can’t believe this…” he whispered, staring blankly. “Just yesterday, we talked. You said you weren’t dying… so why did you leave me?”

He looked at the lifeless body of the girl he loved, surrounded by white sheets and silence. Machines no longer beeped. Her fight was over.

A nurse entered the room quietly. “Good evening, sir. Are you Mr. Ethan Reyes?”

He wiped his tears. “Y-Yes, that’s me…”

She handed him a sealed envelope. “This is for you. It was written by Ms. Alina Cruz. She wanted you to have it.”

“Thank you,” he said in a faint voice.

With shaking hands, Ethan opened the letter.

My dearest Ethan,

If you're reading this… then I guess I’m gone. I didn’t want to hurt you. You were the only one who ever truly cared. But the pain inside me kept growing louder than your words.

I’ve spent so many nights crying silently, pretending to be okay. I felt like I was drowning and no one noticed except you. And even then, I couldn’t bring myself to show you how deep the pain really was.

I’m sorry for leaving you like this. Please don’t blame yourself.

But before you go… please ask them, my parents, my friends, the people who never saw my tears the same question I asked you:

"Will you cry if I die?"

With all my love,

Alina

A week later, Ethan stood at the Cruz residence. Alina’s parents welcomed him with tired, grieving eyes.

“I just wanted to ask you something…” he said, his voice hollow.

“What is it, Ethan?” her mother asked.

Ethan looked down, then into their eyes with quiet intensity.

“Will you cry if she dies?”

They looked stunned.

“Because she asked me that question… and now she’s gone. Maybe if someone had listened earlier, she would still be here.”

Silence.

Tears welled up in her mother’s eyes. Her father looked away, guilt in his expression.

Ethan visited Alina’s grave every week. He brought her flowers, sometimes letters, sometimes just silence.

“I still cry, Alina. Every day. I miss your smile, your laugh… everything.”

He sat beside the gravestone and whispered, “I hope you finally feel peace… and I hope, wherever you are, you know… yes, I cried. I’m still crying.”

And the wind carried his words to the heavens.

End.