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Monday morning, we awake to a breakfast of fresh fruit, pastries and coffee that’s rich enough to make the laziest person alert.

Autumn is still asleep as she should be after the flight, and the way I kept her up last night and on into the early morning hours.

I was tempted to wake her so she could eat, but she looked so serene – so peaceful – that I let her rest. She would need it for the rest of the day’s activities.

Later in the morning, we met up with a guide for a private lagoon tour. Neither of us had ever been snorkeling, but my baby had more guts than I did. She dived, saw a variety of fish and stingrays.

After the tour, we grabbed a quick lunch and then it was time for a couple’s massage. And while we lay face down, we could see the water and fish beneath us via a glass floor. Absolutely phenomenal.

Dinner was simple as well. Since we’d been eating all day, we grabbed something light and then it was back to the bungalow where we took a bath together in that huge tub in the room.

On Tuesday, I thought it would be fun to rent some scooters and do our own little tour around the island.

We ended up going to Matira Beach – enjoying white sand, the palm trees, clear water, and even the rays of sunlight hit just at the right angles.

Most people say it’s the best beach in Bora Bora.

I say everything on this island fits us perfectly.

And nothing beats watching Autumn walking out of the water wearing a two-piece black swimsuit that contrasts with her buttery brown complexion.

At night, we went to a Tahitian cultural show at our resort, witnessing things that I’ve only seen on travel channels – people playing hand drums, fire dancers and an outdoor feast of local cuisine that we indulged in. Just when I didn’t think this day could get any better than the day prior.

On Wednesday, we slept in. We didn’t make any plans – didn’t want to. I just wanted to enjoy her in the peace and quiet of our bungalow. That’s why ordering breakfast in bed was the move. We sat there and ate croissants, eggs, sausage and drank coffee and juice.

“How have you been enjoying things so far?” I asked her.

“Oh, I’ve been having the time of my life, Judah. If we were to leave today I’d be completely satisfied.”

“I feel the same way, but we have today, Thursday and Friday left.”

“We’re flying back home Saturday morning?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

She smiled. “It’s not unfortunate. We’re going to make the best of the time we have left. That’s what we’re going to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

In the afternoon, we had a photoshoot. The resort arranged it all. We just had to show up. I made sure we were color coordinated before we left. I have on a white shirt and khakis. Autumn is wearing a sleeveless white dress and gold sandals.

“You look beautiful,” I told her.

“So do you,” she said.

“Now, let’s go take these pics.”

On Thursday, we took a kayak in still waters of the turquoise lagoon before sunrise just to be able to have a bomb view from Mount Otemanu. It’s like a dream – like a postcard right in front of your face. The views were completely breathtaking.

Today, Friday, is our last full day here.

We’re having a private dinner on the beach.

It’s just us, a table in the sand and torches nearby.

And it’s strategic where they have the table placed.

It’s on the shoreline so that our feet are brushed with water intermittently while we sit and eat.

I have never experienced anything like it.

“What do you think?” I ask Autumn.

“It’s different.”

“Different in a good way?”

“Definitely. I can’t wait to tell Riley everything we’ve done.”

“You haven’t talked to her since we’ve been here?”

“No. Haven’t texted or anything. I wanted all of my focus to be on you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“What about you? Have you talked to Nico?”

“No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to my parents either—well, besides texting them to let them know that we made it safely.”

“Yeah, I did that, too.”

The food arrives. We have large plates of different varieties of meats – fish, shrimp, steak, pork.

“Oh my…it all looks so tempting,” she says. “They’re making sure they send us off with a bang.”

“Yes, they are.”

We dive in. The food is so delicious, it takes effort to keep from moaning, but Autumn just goes for it.

She says, “Oh, I don’t want to leave.”

“Here’s the amazing part, Autumn. We’re leaving this place, yes, but that feeling of euphoria, that’s ours and we can take that wherever we go, sweetheart.”

“True.”

“So, eat up, have a good time, and let’s live for the moment.”

“I’m with you one hundred percent.”

Around midnight, we head back to our bungalow. Autumn, in all her glory, passes out on the bed as soon as her face makes contact with the pillow. That gives me time with my thoughts. Lately, I’ve been having plenty of them.

I take a short stroll to the beach. I slip off my sandals, walk across the sand, and then breathe in the fresh air, tilting my face to the sky.

Drops of water splashes in my face as it begins to rain.

I’m grateful. They hide my tears. Being in paradise with my wife has me emotional, especially when I think about my illness.

The unknowns are stressful. It’s detrimental to my health to know the potential damage I can do to her.

Tears drain from my eyes as I fall to my knees, agonizing over it beneath a stormy sky that’s a replica of what I feel on the inside.

I have no control over my life. My fate. It’s all in His hands.

Closing my weary eyes, I say, “Dear God…I don’t ask you for much.

I don’t. I know you’re aware of my circumstances, and you’ve shown me much grace, but tonight, I don’t come to you for me.

I come to you for my wife. She’s special to me—a gift I consider to be straight from you.

And when I’m gone—” I whimper, my lips trembling as I try to get the words out.

I continue, “When I’m gone, she’ll have nothing because she loves me so much that she wants no one else but me. And I—I can’t leave her anything to remember me by but pictures and memories which I know won’t be enough. They just won’t be.”

I push water away from my face and force myself to breathe, then continue, “I’m not going to be there for her, but I know you’ll be because you’re the Almighty, and you’re a God of love, and I greatly appreciate the love and grace you’ve shown me over the years, so please hear my prayer and give me this one request. How can I leave the woman I love with nothing?

I beg of you—please give her something. Give her the strength to continue loving me.

Give her love, life and the strength to move ahead in life without me.

Give her memories of us that will last. Give her my heart.

Please, God, please give her something to remember me by.

It’s in the name of your Son, Jesus, that I make this request, amen. ”

I take a deep breath and hold it in for a long time before releasing the built-up stress and tension into the sky. I feel relief in letting it go, leaving my cares with Him and letting the spirit work on my behalf.

The sky opens.

Rain drenches my soul and refreshes me. It takes my pain away and helps me see the light through this temporary darkness.

I see my way back to the bungalow where I find Autumn on the deck pacing.

She has two phones in her hand – mine and hers.

When she sees me, she sprints in my direction and leaps into my arms, latching on for dear life.

“Autumn,” I say, but it’s of no use. She squeezes me. Her body trembles. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I woke up in the middle of the night and you were missing. I was worried sick, Judah.”

“I’m fine,” I tell her, but inside I’m dying a little because this is how she’s suffering at the thought of me going missing.

When I’m actually gone, it will be much worse, no matter how strong she says she is.

She loves me like I’ve never been loved, and the way she’s clinging to me for dear life proves that she will not be okay when I’m gone.