Chapter 4

When I woke up, Harper was fussing over me, taking care of everything.

Her voice was thick with anger. "Ethan doesn't know you're sick, does he? He actually thinks you left him just for the money?"

I remained silent, offering no answer.

"I knew it!" Harper snapped, frustrated by my stubbornness. "You two loved each other so much. Chloe, why won't you just tell him the truth? You suffered so much for him, and look how he treats you now..."

"Harper," I interrupted her, my voice hoarse. "The past is the past. Let it go."

"But—"

"No buts." I took a deep breath. "He and I ended a long time ago. He's doing well now, and that's all that matters."

"So that gives him the right to humiliate you like this?" Harper argued. "Chloe, you're being stupid! You ruined your own life for him. And what about him?”

“He’s successful, he’s got a beautiful fiancée, and he treats you like dirt! Why do you let him?"

"Because of the choice I made," I said softly. "I chose this path. I have to live with the consequences."

Harper fell silent for a long time. Finally, she whispered, "Chloe, why do you have to torture yourself like this?"

"I’m not torturing myself." I stared at the water stains on the ceiling. "I’m just accepting reality."

After Harper left, the apartment fell back into a dead silence.

Her words were like a pebble dropped into a quiet pond, sending ripples through my heart, but they quickly faded.

Tell him the truth? And then what?

Let Ethan know his own mother literally knelt and begged me to leave him?

Let Ethan know he misunderstood me when I was at my absolute weakest?

Fill him with guilt, pain, and regret?

No. I already ruined our past. I couldn't ruin his present and future, too.

Let me carry this heavy truth to my grave alone.

The sky darkened. I struggled to sit up, wanting to pour myself a glass of water.

But a sudden wave of dizziness hit me, and I began to cough violently.

I covered my mouth, coughing so hard my chest felt like it was ripping apart. When I pulled my hand away, a bright, terrifying crimson stained my palm.

Blood. The cancer was spreading.

Looking at the blood, I felt a strange sense of relief.

It seemed even surviving this last month was going to be a luxury.

In the days that followed, I stayed cooped up in my apartment, barely leaving.

My health fluctuated. On good days, I could make myself some oatmeal. On bad days, I couldn't even get out of bed.

I didn't look for another job. After the incident at the gallery, I had lost all courage to face the outside world.

Harper visited often, bringing me groceries and helping me tidy up.

She stopped begging me to seek treatment. She just stayed by my side, watching me waste away day by day.

Sometimes, she would hold me and cry, calling me a fool.

I would just pat her back, saying nothing.

One afternoon, while I was drifting in and out of sleep, a loud knock startled me.

The knocks were urgent, heavy. My heart squeezed with a sudden, terrible premonition.

I struggled to drag myself to the door and looked through the peephole. Standing outside was Ethan.

He was wearing a tailored black coat, his face darker than a storm cloud.

How did he find this place?

I instinctively took a step back, holding my breath, terrified of making a sound.

"Chloe, I know you're in there," Ethan's voice cut through the door, cold and demanding. "Open the door."