Chapter 2

I'd just wrapped up the call when I heard Renee's muffled sobs from the living room. She shared the signed divorce agreement in our family group chat, along with an essay claiming that she'd only wanted to help a cancer patient fulfill his dying wish, while I was using our ten-year marriage to force her to stand by and watch him die.

Less than five minutes after her message was sent, the group chat blew up.

My aunt, Susan Foster, was the first to berate me. "How can you be so narrow-minded, Terrence?"

My uncle, Benedict Foster, immediately chimed in. "They're not getting legally married. It's just a wedding ceremony. Do you really need to get divorced?"

Someone even tagged me. "Jordan's about to die, yet you're still competing with a dying man over your wife? Have you no shame?"

I didn't reply to any of them. The harder they came at me now, the more humiliating it would be for them tomorrow.

…

Mom swiftly called off the tenth-anniversary celebration I'd planned and contacted the hotel to change it into a wedding reception. She even went home, unlocked the safe, and took out Dad's watch. It was the watch Dad had given me before he died.

All these years, Mom had insisted that she'd hand it to Oliver once he came of age. Yet, now, she personally fastened it around Jordan's wrist. "Jordan, you may not be my biological son, but in my heart, you're no different from Terrence and Philip."

Tears welled up in Jordan's eyes. "This is far too precious, Ma."

He politely refused, yet he raised his hand firmly, as if he was afraid the watch might fall off.

I stared at that watch. "Mom, are you sure you want to give it to him?"

Her expression hardened. "Jordan has only a month left. What's wrong with letting him wear your father's watch? You already have everything. Do you really have to hold a grudge against a dying man?"

…

That night, Jordan suddenly clutched his chest, claiming that he could have an episode at any moment. He leaned against Renee's shoulder, and his voice was barely above a whisper. "Why don't you stay with me, Ren? I'm afraid I'll fall asleep and never wake up again."

Renee immediately helped him into the master bedroom. It was the room where she and I had shared for a decade.

Oliver even took the initiative to bring him a blanket. "Mom, stay with Uncle Jordan. He can't be left alone right now, and Dad refuses to take care of him. What if his condition flares up in the middle of the night?"

I didn't stop them. If anything, I pulled out my phone. "I need to register the groom's medical information for the wedding. Send me a copy of your diagnosis."

Jordan visibly stiffened for a split second. Renee, however, didn't suspect a thing; she immediately took a photo of the report and sent it to me.

I forwarded the photo to the forensic investigator.

Less than half an hour later, I received a reply. "There's something wrong with the hospital stamp on this report. The serial number format is also incorrect. It looks like someone took an old report and changed the name on it."

I stared at the screen and let out a derisive chuckle. It was just as I'd expected.

In my previous life, I hadn't uncovered the truth until the day I died. This time around, the show had barely begun, and a crack had already appeared in Jordan's mask.

Right before the door to the master bedroom was about to close, Renee turned around to look at me. She didn't look the least bit guilty about what she'd done to her husband. If anything, she shot me a warning look. "Terrence, keep this up, and you can forget about attending the wedding tomorrow."

The door clicked shut. I stared at that door and murmured, "Don't worry. I wouldn't miss your wedding for the world."