Chapter 3

If I put myself in Rosalie's shoes, perhaps our marriage was a mistake from the very beginning.

The Jackson family was in a precarious position five years ago. To build a stable relationship with a powerful company like Lowen Group, Isaac insisted we get married. From a businessman's perspective, nothing was more stable than a marriage between their children, creating an entity of shared interests.

Rosalie didn't agree with the arrangement, but she couldn't speak up in front of her parents. That was why she begged me, hoping that I would step forward and reject the arrangement instead.

She had cried her heart out that day, telling me that she already had someone she loved. She said that she didn't want to become a sacrificial lamb in her parents' pursuit of glory, explaining that they wouldn't listen to her.

However, I was different. I was the Lowen family's only son. Her parents couldn't do anything to me if I said I didn't want to marry her. She looked so lost and helpless when she gripped my arm tightly. She also nearly dropped to her knees a few times to beg me for help.

I ended up agreeing to her request. Although I loved Rosalie, I couldn't bear to hurt her when I looked at her tear-streaked face and realized how broken she was. I met with our parents and made it clear that I was against the idea of our marriage.

However, two weeks later, I coincidentally overheard that Lowen Group was pulling funding from Jackson Group. I immediately looked for Dad to ask what was going on.

"It's just business. It's none of your concern," he said.

Rosalie looked for me again that night. Her eyes were red and swollen, making it obvious that she had been crying for a long time. An angry red handprint also marked her swollen right cheek.

"I never would have guessed that you were such a petty person," she gritted out. "You're so two-faced. Fine. I'll marry you as you wish, but I won't rest until you're dead!"

I could still clearly remember the disgust and hatred on her face. I looked for Isaac, hoping I could convince them to give Rosalie a chance to be with her loved one. I was completely caught off guard when her parents, both over 50, suddenly sank to their knees before me.

"I'm begging you, Nathan," Isaac said. "Please help the Jackson family. Our company doesn't have a core research and technology department. We'll collapse sooner or later if we leave Lowen Group."

Rosalie's mother, Talia Oville, said, "I've been watching you for many years. I know that you're in love with Rosie. My heart will be at ease if I leave her in your hands. As for that boyfriend of hers, he promised to leave Rosie as long as we give him three million dollars."

I was rendered speechless and felt rather sorry for Rosalie. Perhaps I was driven by my own selfishness since I loved her, but I ultimately agreed to the marriage of convenience.

Two years ago, Lowen Group started going downhill when the company's funding was cut off. After struggling for a year, in the end, they had no choice but to file for bankruptcy last year.

Meanwhile, Jackson Group's business was improving every day since they had become the pioneer of smart technology. From Rosalie's perspective, my existence and the Lowen family's existence were no longer necessary in her life.

Our families had only arranged this marriage of convenience because it would benefit both parties at the time. It made sense that she would want to free herself from it at this point in time.

…

Mom and Dad cried their hearts out after they saw my medical report.

I never intended to hide my diagnosis from them. I thought that it was better to give them time to slowly accept the fact that I was going to die, instead of hurting them suddenly and deeply by only delivering the bad news to them when my condition took a turn for the worse.

"What about Rosie?" Mom asked through her tears. "What is she going to do?"

"We've already filed for divorce," I said, using a tissue to wipe her tears.

Mom was momentarily stunned before she started sobbing even harder. Meanwhile, Dad, who had stopped smoking for over a decade, pulled out a cigarette from somewhere and smoked it with a gloomy expression.

My heart twisted painfully as I took in the wisps of white hair growing from Mom's and Dad's temples. But there was nothing that I could do. I was only 29. I still wanted to live, but pancreatic cancer was usually only detected during its late stages. The probability of being cured of it was close to zero.

I agreed when Mom and Dad told me that I should check myself into the hospital. Truth be told, it didn't matter whether I received treatment. In fact, the treatment might even expedite my death. However, to set their minds at ease, I chose to obediently listen to them.

I felt like I was detached from reality as I lay on the hospital bed. I had thought that my future had been endless and full of possibilities just two days ago. I remembered chatting with my friends, telling them how I wanted to start a business again in the future.

However, at that moment, I could count the days I had left on my fingers.

Truth be told, I thought about many things as I sat in the hospital lobby after I received my diagnosis. I wondered what was going to happen to Mom, Dad, and Rosalie. But in the end, I couldn't find any answers to my questions.

Dad's hair seemed to turn white overnight. He sat next to my bed and comforted me. "Your mother and I have a lot of free time now after the company went bankrupt, Nate. It turned out to be a good thing since the two of us practically already have one foot in the grave.

"We still have some money, so we'll make the proper arrangements to live out the rest of our lives. You don't have to worry about anything. You just have to focus on getting better.

"As for Rosalie, it's good that the two of you are divorced now. Without a child to tie her down, she can live the life that she wants in the future."

Dad's lips trembled as he spoke. It was impossible for me to miss the underlying meaning behind his words. He just wanted me to be at peace when I eventually passed on. I was smiling when I listened to him, but I was crying in my heart.

My illness was more serious than expected. I had already fallen into a light coma and a deep coma once even though I had only been hospitalized for three weeks.

Mom was barely coherent when she called Rosalie and blubbered through her tears. "Nate's sick, Rosie. Can you drop by the hospital to visit him? I don't think that he can hold on for much longer…"

Rosalie's voice was as cold as ice on the other end of the line. "I'm not a doctor, Mrs. Lowen. I can't cure Nathan of his illness."

Mom's crying expression stiffened. "Did you just call me 'Mrs. Lowen', Rosie?"

"Nathan and I have already filed for divorce. We're not a married couple anymore, so it makes sense for me to call you 'Mrs. Lowen' instead. Is there a problem? Is there anything else, Mrs. Lowen?"

Mom closed her eyes and swallowed her anger. Her voice was shaking when she said, "Nate's in really bad shape. I thought that since the two of you were married once, you could come over to see him off. You should talk to him now when he's still lucid enough to recognize you—"

"I already said that Nathan and I are divorced!" Rosalie snapped, interrupting Mom. "Whether he lives or dies has nothing to do with me."

Her tone was colored with impatience when she continued, "I'm done dealing with your family. Why do you insist on clinging to me and causing trouble? You did the same thing five years ago, and now you're doing it again.

"The Lowens are a prestigious and successful family. Don't tell me that Nathan plans to remain single after leaving me? Tell him to abandon those foolish thoughts. We are definitely getting a divorce!"

She hung up as soon as she finished speaking.

Mom was furious. She stumbled back a few steps and collapsed into a chair. When she turned to look at me and saw how I had countless tubes inserted into my body, she buried her face in her hands and started crying.

I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her that she didn't have to worry—that I was fine. However, the doctors had cut open my trachea for medical reasons.

I couldn't move or speak. I was constantly in excruciating pain because of the incision in my trachea. Death would be a form of relief for me at that moment.

However, whenever I thought about Mom and Dad and the hopelessness in their eyes, I wouldn't be able to help myself and would want to hold on a little longer, even if it was just for a few seconds. I couldn't bear the thought of them being there during my last moments, when I was younger than them.

Two days later, I received proof that objective facts wouldn't be swayed by human will. I died at midnight when it was silent all around us. Dad had turned on his side as he dreamed, and Mom had been snoring lightly.

Everything had been so normal. Only I knew that they had just fallen asleep after exerting themselves nonstop for the past few nights.