When Ernest woke up, he found himself in a hospital with Milana slumped over the edge of the bed, asleep.
The sunlight spilled in from the window and beat against the side of her face. It was a scene that transported him to a year ago.
During that period, he worked himself to the bone, juggling multiple jobs so he could pay the medical expenses for Milana’s rehabilitation,
He would often push his body to the limit and drink more than he could handle with business partners so he could secure business deals. There had been more than one occasion where he nearly died from excessive drinking.
A year ago, he had fallen into a coma for three whole days, and when he finally regained consciousness, Milana was looking over him with her eyes filled with tears.
She handed him a note which read, [I don’t want you to risk your life just to afford the medical bills for me. I would much rather never get to walk again for the rest of my life than to lose you, Ernest.]
Once, they had loved each other fervently. What happened to that now?
He smiled bitterly as he realized that the intense love they had once shared was now a thing of the past.
When he stirred in bed, Milana suddenly jolted awake.
She asked in sign language, [Ernest. Are you hungry? Let me go get you something to eat.]
At the same time, she received a phone call from Miles.
Seconds afterward, her expression turned into one of sharp concern while she answered Miles, “Don’t panic, I’ll be right there.”
She hardly noticed that Ernest’s IV bag had long since run dry, and that blood had started to flow back through the tubes.
She was already hurrying out of the hospital room without so much as a glance back at him.
It was only when a nurse came by for her rounds that Ernest was finally attended to.
While helping him remove the needle from the back of his hand, the nurse muttered under her breath, “That’s the most inattentive family member I’ve seen. She came here just to sleep, then ran off without even telling us.”
Upon seeing the swollen veins on the back of his hand, Ernest felt a sharp, bitter feeling overcoming him from deep inside. After that, he picked up his jacket and walked out of the ward.
After paying the hospital bill and picking up his medication, he left the hospital exhausted, his stomach still aching and the back of his hand swollen, he was drained. He barely had the strength to even hold his medicine.
While he was stepping out of the outpatient department, his phone started to vibrate once again.
Miles had posted another picture online that showed the figure of a woman from behind.
“She rushed to me to make me a hearty bowl of chicken soup as soon as I said I was sick. I’m so lucky.”
Ernest immediately recognized the figure as Milana’s.
Just as he was about to tuck his phone back into his pocket, he received a text from Miles.
[I heard you passed out from pain, Ernest, but what about it? All it takes for me to summon Milana by my side is a phone call. The five years you dedicated to her mean nothing at all because at the end of the day, she still belongs to me.]
Every word he said spelled out the harsh, undeniable reality.
It had taken Ernest five years to finally see Milana’s stark indifference for what it was.
He ended up driving home while enduring the throbbing pain in the back of his hand.
When he looked at the date displayed on the dashboard, he muttered to himself, “Only two days left before I can leave you for good, Milana.”
Upon arriving home, he found a large box by the doorway.
It seemed to contain a large picture frame.
When he peeked into one of the boxes, which was opened partially, he made out its contents.
It was Miles and Milana’s wedding photos.
The sight of their blissful smile felt like an insult to his stinging eyes.
What a sick joke. He was going to get married to Milana in two days, but they hadn’t even taken any wedding pictures together.
Whenever he brought up the subject, Milana would always come up with some excuse to brush him off.
As it turned out, it wasn’t so much that she disliked taking wedding pictures, but rather that she was not interested in taking them with him.
At the end of the day, he was simply not good enough for her.
He could not help but recall something Milana had once said while she was drunk.
“Wedding pictures are meant to be taken with the person you love most.”
It was clear he was not that person.
For the longest time, he naively believed that after all the ups and downs they had gone through over the past five years, they had developed deep affection for each other and would always be there for each other.
It was only now that he finally realized just how terribly wrong he had been.
It seemed that as far as Milana was concerned, he was nothing more than a backup, someone for her to hinge her emotional distress on while she was bedridden.
Now that she could walk again, she no longer had any need for him.
Just as he bent over to carry the box containing the framed picture, a pair of hands suddenly reached over from behind him…
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