Chapter 4

Later, I went to the hospital and got a prescription for some painkillers.

The doctor studied my charts, then let out a heavy sigh. "There's no good treatment available here right now, but I've heard of a hospital overseas. They have an experimental drug. It could give you another three to five years."

I smiled and looked at him.

"So I'll still die in the end, right?"

He nodded. And for a moment, he looked even more heartbroken than I did.

"Then I'll pass," I said. "A few more years wouldn't be a gift, not for me."

My friend, Haley Lloyd, was waiting in the car outside.

As soon as I got in, I coughed up blood.

She panicked, grabbing tissues and pressing them to my lips. Her hands shook, and tears fell one after another onto the center console.

"Lily, why are you doing this? What's the point?"

I leaned back, eyes tilted toward the hospital building just beyond the windshield. People came and went, living their lives.

"Caleb is the kind of person who can't handle even the smallest failure. That's why I left without a word back then. And now... I can't explain it anymore."

I balled up the bloodied tissue in my hand and tossed it into the little trash bag in the car.

"I know exactly what he wants, but I'm not the person I was when I was twenty, Haley. And he's not the same boy he used to be either. We've missed out on so many years, and we've both changed since then. There's nothing left between us now except hate."

Haley looked at me, forcing her tears back with sheer will.

"Then why get married in the first place? And why not just get a divorce?"

I sighed. "I'm going to die anyway, so I just want to help him fulfill a wish he had back then. When I left him, I did feel guilty."

I went on handling my affairs, tying up loose ends.

I destroyed or sold off most of the things that once belonged to me, just so Caleb wouldn't be annoyed by the sight of them after I was gone.

Maybe if Kayla tried hard enough, she really could replace me completely.

-

Haley found a buyer interested in taking over my studio.

They made a generous offer, but their condition was to have my mother's last masterpiece. I was curious and wanted to meet this buyer in person, but the request was denied.

I sat in the darkroom, staring at my mother's painting. Nothing in the studio had changed since she died.

I racked my brain trying to guess who that mysterious buyer could be.

A sharp pain spread up from my stomach into my chest. I took a painkiller and was about to close up when Kayla pushed the door open.

"What would it take for you to leave Caleb?"

She impatiently slid off her glasses and sat down on the couch, her anger completely exposed. There was no trace of the sweet act from that night.

I poured her a cup of tea and set it in front of her.

"You saw everything for yourself. It's not that I don't want a divorce."

Kayla sneered.

"Drop the act. I know Caleb hates you. He hates that you betrayed him back then, and that's why he's been tormenting you like this, making you a joke in front of everyone. But Lily, you and I both know the truth. If you really wanted to leave, he couldn't stop you."

Something sank deep inside me.

I never imagined Caleb would share our private business with Kayla. Maybe Kayla really was different from the other women.

None of those women he used to get under my skin ever lasted more than three days by his side, and he never told any of them about us.

Maybe, in some moments when he wasn't paying attention, Caleb started to hesitate. Kayla wasn't just a tool to humiliate or provoke me anymore. She was someone he actually cared about.

I sighed and smiled.

"Since he told you so much, then you should already know that I've got a bad temper, right?"

As soon as the words left my mouth, I grabbed the teacup on the table and flung it at Kayla. The tea wasn't boiling, but it was hot enough to make her scream in shock.

Her face instantly flushed bright red, and a few tea leaves clung to her hair, trembling like they might fall any second.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?!" she yelled.