Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I stopped my chemotherapy after the leukemia diagnosis.

During the final month of my life, I put on a wig and applied heavy makeup, all for the sake of taking a beautiful funeral portrait.

My friends from the hospital liked the post on social media.

But my husband's sister left a comment: "Such a drama queen. Do you really think my brother will even look at you? You're disgusting!"

I paused for a moment before replying, "He won't ever have to see me again."

......

It was supposed to be a routine check-up to prepare for pregnancy, but life decided to play a cruel joke on me.

The moment I saw the diagnosis for "Acute Myeloid Leukemia," I completely collapsed.

The doctor told me I needed to start treatment immediately to potentially extend my life. Otherwise, I only had a few months left.

I held the diagnostic report, a heavy sense of grief washing over me.

I didn't know how to tell Gideon Thorne this devastating news; I just desperately needed to hear his voice.

"I'm busy! Don't bother me!" He hung up before I could even say a word.

I didn't even get the chance to speak.

Even though it was only a few seconds, I caught the sound of a woman's voice in the background.

I didn't want to be the suspicious wife, but that voice kept echoing in my mind.

It was Maren Vance.

She was more beautiful and more vibrant than me. Most importantly, she was the person Gideon cared about most right now.+

As I watched the sky turn dark, my heart sank to the bottom of the ocean.

On the day I was diagnosed with leukemia, my husband was spending his time with his new flame.

How ironic.

As if reflecting my mood, a heavy rainstorm broke out on my way home from the pharmacy.

I've always been sensitive to the cold, and my immune system had plummeted since I got sick.

A few hours after getting home, I developed a high fever.

In my delirious state, my mind was filled with thoughts of Gideon. I wasn't ready to let go.

We had worked so hard to get to where we were. I didn't want to believe he would betray me.

I drifted off on the sofa with those thoughts, only to wake up in the darkness after midnight, drenched in a cold sweat.

Gideon hadn't come home. I shivered as I tried to call him again.

This time, he didn't pick up at all.

A moment later, my phone buzzed twice. It was a message from Gideon.

I clicked on it with a spark of hope, but the image on the screen instantly dragged me back to reality.

In the photo, Gideon was wearing a pink apron that looked ridiculous on him, leaning over the stove to cook a bowl of Carbonara.

Maren was hugging him from behind. Her face took up half the screen, her smile triumphant and her eyes filled with provocation.

It was obvious she was the one who sent the photo.

Then a text popped up: "I feel so safe with Gideon here! The pasta tastes amazing, too."

My chest felt like it had been hit by a sledgehammer. Even the physical pain of my illness seemed to dull in comparison to this.

It was officially my birthday now that it was past midnight, yet my husband was busy making pasta for another woman.

In all the years we had known each other, Gideon had never stepped foot in the kitchen.

I was the one who taught him how to make that specific pasta dish. Now, he was using what I taught him to please someone else.

It was truly pathetic. I didn't reply. I just stared blankly at the clock on the wall. Eleven PM.

I didn't know how many nights I had stayed up waiting for him since Maren appeared.

But now I realized I would never be able to wait for him again.