I Promised Her Anything, Even My Death

I sat in the lobby of the hospital for over three hours when I was diagnosed with late-stage pancreatic cancer. I still hadn't figured out how to break the news to my wife, Rosalie Jackson, when I got a call from her.

"Free up some time in your schedule and come home, Nathan," she said. "He's coming back next month, so we need to get a divorce as soon as possible. I don't want to be still saddled with a bastard like you when he's back."

I tightened my grip on my phone. Rosalie and I just had a big fight a few days ago because I wanted a child and because her childhood sweetheart, Brandon Milton, was about to return to the country.

I was worried that she was going to leave me, so I made a suggestion. "We've been married for five years. Maybe it's time for us to have a child?"

"Who do you think you are?" she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. "Do you really think that you deserve to have a child with me?"

Although I was a man, I nearly cried when I heard her words. My heart ached terribly, feeling as if someone had taken a knife and sliced away a part of it.

Right before Rosalie slammed the door open and stormed out of the room, she exclaimed, "Let's get a divorce, Nathan! This marriage was a mistake from the very beginning. It's time for us to set things right and return to our own paths."

She stopped coming home and contacting me after that day.

I looked down at the medical report in my hand. "Fine…" I muttered to myself.

…

Rosalie and a man in a suit were sitting in the living room when I returned home. Two documents lay out in front of them. They rose when they saw me.

Rosalie frowned when she laid her eyes on me, saying, "You're so young, and yet you just spend your days doing nothing. You'll probably be sleeping under a bridge and collecting trash for a living if you didn't have a rich father and me to take care of you."

I looked down at the slippers and loungewear that I was wearing. My abdomen had suddenly started aching terribly earlier in the morning. I didn't have enough time to change before the security guards rushed me to the hospital.

"Forget it. It won't be any of my business in the future anyway," Rosalie said, waving her hand dismissively. "He's a lawyer. He'll be the witness when we've decided on how to divide the assets. Take a look at the divorce papers. Hurry and raise any objections that you may have while he's here.

"I didn't take advantage of you during our five years of marriage. I'll be giving you more than half of the assets, so you'll be able to live comfortably for the rest of your life."

When the man offered the divorce agreements to me, I didn't even bother looking at the contents and just flipped to the last page. I then penned my signature on the dotted line.

"I agree to all the terms in the agreement no matter what they are," I said as I threw the documents at Rosalie.

Rosalie was briefly stunned. It was obvious that she hadn't expected me to agree to getting a divorce so easily. She shot a cautious look at me before flipping both divorce agreements to the last page. She discreetly sighed in relief when she confirmed that I had indeed signed both documents.

A bitter smile stretched across my lips as I took in her relieved expression. "We were in a marriage of convenience for five years. You must have felt extremely troubled when you were forced to remain by my side.

"Fortunately, it's not too late. You're still young. You can still live the life that you want. But a man like Brandon Milton doesn't deserve your devotion. I suggest that—"

"You don't deserve to talk about him," Rosalie said coldly, cutting me off before I could finish my sentence. "You used underhanded tactics to chase him away all those years ago. You have no right to talk about him when you made him suffer so much hardship when he was all alone in another country.

"Besides, you're just an outsider. You have no right to meddle in my relationship with him."

"You're right. Perhaps you'll only be able to let go when I'm dead," I said.

My eyes were hollow as I sighed quietly.

Rosalie's voice was as cold as ice when she said, "That's right. I can only let go of the past when you're dead. You make me sick whenever I look at you."

She picked up her bag from the couch and put one of the divorce agreements inside. "I'll see you at the courthouse at 11:00 am tomorrow. Don't act like a fool when the time comes."

I suddenly found it difficult to breathe, but I still nodded and said, "Got it."

Rosalie and I were in a marriage of convenience. But the truth was that I had been in love with her for many years before we got married. I had already secretly started loving her even before I truly understood my feelings.

Seven years ago, the Jackson family was facing a financial crisis and urgently needed a large amount of funds. Rosalie's father, Isaac Jackson, sought out Dad, hoping that Lowen Group would extend a helping hand to the Jacksons.

Dad agreed.

After Jackson Group survived the crisis, they no longer stubbornly tried to expand the company by themselves. Instead, they approached Lowen Group and suggested that they work together to strengthen their companies.