What We Bear in Summer

The cabin had been Marcus's father's place—a rotting dock and a house that smelled of pine needles and regret. Elena hadn't wanted to come, not after the diagnosis, not with the treatments leaving him skeletal and strange. But Marcus had insisted on one last summer at the lake.

He swam every morning at dawn, his body cutting through the water while she watched from the dock with Buster, their ancient golden retriever. The dog's muzzle had gone white, his hips stiff with age. He lay pressed against Elena's thigh, a warm anchor in the cool morning air.

Marcus's hair had begun falling out two weeks ago—dark clumps on the pillow, then more in the shower drain until he'd shaved it all off. Now his skull was pale and vulnerable beneath the sun. He'd made jokes about it, of course. Marcus made jokes about everything. But Elena had seen him in the bathroom mirror, fingertips tracing the unfamiliar terrain of his bare head, something like terror in his eyes.

"You're staring," he said, pulling himself onto the dock. Water streamed from his shoulders.

"I'm not," she lied.

He toweled off, avoiding her gaze. "The bear was back again last night. I heard it rooting through the garbage."

"We should leave," she said for the hundredth time. "This place is falling apart. You're exhausted, Marcus."

"I want to be here. With you." His voice cracked. "Before..."

Before the words could form, Buster lifted his head and growled. At the tree line, a massive shape materialized—a black bear, its coat gleaming in the morning light. It stood watching them, still as a photograph.

Elena's heart hammered. Marcus stepped toward it, bare chest heaving.

"Marcus, don't—"

"It's just hungry," he said softly. "Like the rest of us."

The bear held their gaze for what felt like an eternity, then turned and lumbered back into the shadows. Marcus's shoulders shook. Elena realized he was weeping.

She went to him, wrapped her arms around his wet, shivering frame. The dog pressed against them both, solid and present. Behind them, the lake lay glass-smooth, reflecting a sky that held no answers, only light.

"Stay with me," he whispered against her hair. "However much time is left."

She held him tighter as the sun rose over the water, bearing witness to everything they could not name.