Dying To Let You Go

I got my boyfriend by taking advantage of his lowest moment.

Years ago, Lucas Vance shattered his hand just to shield me, giving up his lifelong dream of being a concert pianist.

Yet over the years, all his tenderness evaporated, replaced by cold disgust. He called me calculating, pathetic, and desperate.

On the day I got my terminal diagnosis,

I hid behind a concrete pillar in the parking garage, watching him gently wipe away Vivian’s tears.

In that moment, I crumpled the medical report in my hand and suddenly felt at peace.