On My Last Birthday, My Fiancée Called the Police on Me

A week before the wedding, the doctor who examined me told me I didn't have long to live. The news hit like a bolt out of a clear sky, and I nearly broke down. My voice shook as I asked him, "How long do I have?" "About a month." Thinking of the wedding next week, my nails dug into my palm without my meaning to. And as it happened, three days from now was my birthday.