Chapter 6

Graham seemingly hadn't expected Arden to wake up suddenly. He froze for a second, then pressed his right hand to her forehead. "Ary, are you okay?"

His palm was warm and gentle, but Arden instinctively leaned to the right to dodge it. She sat up.

A flicker of displeasure flashed in Graham's eyes when he noticed her flinch, but it was quickly drowned by tenderness and resignation. "Are you mad at me?"

He let out a heavy sigh, quietly withdrew his hand, and said in a low voice, "It's not that I didn't want to save you, Ary. The situation didn't allow it. Irene had already fainted, and I knew your parents would've blamed you again if something had happened to her. I didn't want to make things harder for you… I did it for your good."

"I know." She pulled away from him without thinking, dropping her eyes to the bed. She said flatly, "I understand. Whoever you chose to save would've made sense."

Saving Irene was well within her expectations, really.

Since childhood, everything and anything linked to Irene had been prioritized above her. Even if she was on the brink of death, all Irene had to do was whine a little to make everyone condemn and insult Arden. None of this would come as a surprise.

She should be used to it by now; she should've accepted this long ago… right?

Arden's calmness caught Graham off guard. In the past, at times like this, she would've cried and thrown a fit, demanding to know if he didn't love her anymore. Why wasn't she saying anything like that now?

A sudden fear, like something was vanishing, crashed over him.

Graham looked into Arden's eyes, his gaze filled with sincerity and regret. "I know you're still upset with me, but I swear you're the only one in my heart. You've always hated your parents criticizing you; I just got anxious because I care about you."

His hands slid down as he gently eased her back onto the pillow. He gave her a placating pat on the head. "Don't be mad at me anymore, okay?"

The faint smell of tobacco laced with a trace of cloying sweetness from a perfume wafted into Arden's nose. That perfume belonged to Irene.

Almost instantly, an image flashed through Arden's mind of Irene and Graham leaning into each other in the hospital room. She reflexively tried to push him away, but he clamped down on her wrists and pinned them at her sides. No matter how she struggled, she couldn't break free.

"Ary, don't push me away."

Seeing her so calm stirred a strange panic in Graham. It wasn't right. In the past, whenever Arden saw him getting close to another woman, she'd always get jealous, even if it was mostly feigned.

But now, she seemed completely indifferent…

Graham felt things slipping out of his control. Arden was like a kite flying farther and farther away. The string in his hand was ready to snap at any moment.

The thought that he might lose her in the future made him inexplicably agitated. He urgently wanted to do something—anything—to keep her by his side.

"I'm sorry, Ary. I know I let you down tonight." He dipped his head and kissed the corner of her lips. "Let's have a baby, okay? If I die and leave you behind, our baby can protect you…"

A flurry of kisses scattered across her skin. The sticky and clinging sensation seeped through to her nerves, setting off tremors that rippled through her.

Arden jolted in alarm and instinctively started flailing. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

Let go? Why would he let go? Could she really be having other thoughts?

A shadow crossed Graham's eyes. He tightened his grip on Arden's wrists and pulled her closer. "Ary, I really love you. Please don't leave me, okay?"

She fought with everything she had, but her strength was nothing against his. Despair crushed her, and her tears burst free. She stared blankly at the ceiling and let out a bitter laugh. "Don't you think I'm filthy, Graham?"

He abruptly froze.

Arden swallowed back a sob. "Is it because I did something wrong that I had to go through something like that? Why me? What did I do wrong?"

The sight of her crying silently was like a blade that stabbed straight into his heart, leaving it aching.

Was this really what he wanted to see? A sliver of regret shot through him.

In the quiet room, only a faint breeze whispered past the window.

It was hard to tell how long had passed when Graham finally dropped a light kiss on Arden's cheek. "You keep overthinking things. How could I ever scorn you? None of what happened was your fault, so don't dwell on it. I'll never despise you."

He pushed himself up, gently smoothing her sleek hair. He said softly, "Since you're not feeling well, I won't do anything to you tonight. There's still some work I need to handle at the office, so I'll head over there. Call me if anything comes up."

With that, he straightened his clothes and fled.

Arden turned her head slightly and happened to catch the moment the door closed. Graham took out his phone, clearly texting someone.

It went without saying that it was Irene. A fire had started, and someone needed to put it out. That was normal, wasn't it?

After all these years together, Arden understood exactly what every one of Graham's gestures meant.

Just then, her phone on the bedside table lit up, showing a new message. She picked it up. It was a photo from Irene showing two glasses of wine being clinked together. Behind them, her bare feet rested on the lap of a man in a suit, close enough to his groin.

Arden knew that suit well. She'd bought it for Graham herself—it was the one he'd worn when they'd gotten married.

The zipper he'd just tugged up in front of her was now right beneath Irene's feet.

A wave of nausea attacked her. Arden didn't have time to think; she stumbled into the bathroom and retched violently.

Blood smeared across the white ceramic sink in thick streaks. It was a shocking red that was terrifying to behold.

Blood was still slowly pooling in the sink. Arden looked up at herself in the mirror and dazedly wiped the last bit of crimson from the corner of her mouth. Suddenly, the reality of having cancer felt terrifyingly real.

She was going to die.

Whether someone loved her, whether she loved someone… It all seemed meaningless now.