Chapter 4

Lying in the examination room, the doctor examined me. "Conservative treatment can still sustain your life, but surgery carries risks and could be life‑threatening. Are you sure you want surgery? Do you want to discuss it with your family?"

I looked out the window. The long‑awaited rain finally began to fall, blurring my vision.

I picked up my phone, my finger hovering over Sienna's name.

Placing her profile picture next to Ethan's, I suddenly realized how much they looked like matching profile pictures.

I checked her Facebook. The woman who always shared financial news and could not be bothered to commemorate our anniversary had surprisingly posted a photo.

It was a picture of her and Ethan from behind.

The caption read: [He said he wanted to take this photo.]

I put down my phone, tears welling in my eyes. I took a deep breath and whispered, "I have made up my mind. It is time to end it."

The cold instruments churned inside me, but I only felt relief.

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, the doctor handed me a packet of supplements and gently patted my back. "Since you got sick, you have been coming to the hospital alone. I want to tell you to remember to be kind to yourself before being kind to others."

I nodded, feeling touched.

Back home, I opened the door and was met with Sienna and Ethan, naked and pressed together.

The woman who behaved like a machine in front of me seemed to be releasing all her pent‑up anxiety and desire. "Ethan, I love you so much."

"How much?"

"I want to pluck the stars from the sky for you. I want to see you every time I open my eyes." The woman greedily stroked the man's back, passionately expressing her love.

It sounded natural, as if she had practiced it countless times.

Even though I had mentally prepared myself, seeing it with my own eyes still felt like a thousand ants gnawing at my heart. It was a tiny, persistent pain.

This time, I did not argue, make a scene, or ask why. I turned and left.

Sienna finally reacted. She pulled up her pants and ran toward me. "Clint, I can explain."

I stopped and looked at her amusedly. "Fine, explain."

Sienna licked her lips, touched her nose, and avoided my gaze. She was not good at lying, and she always did this when she was nervous. "Ethan and I are both from single‑parent families. I just want to take care of him. Are you hungry? How about I cook you some pasta?"

She was changing the subject again.

Whenever she encountered a question she did not want to answer, she subconsciously avoided the topic, pretending nothing had happened.

With a thud, Ethan knelt in front of me, crying, "Clint, blame me. Do not blame Sienna. I was the one who initiated it. You always told me Sienna had no sense of romance, and I was just curious if she really did not know how to love."

I leaned down and quietly looked at this friend I had known for 20 years.

Once, I thought our friendship was stronger than any romantic love.

"Did you also plagiarize my work and take my job position out of curiosity?"

"Clint, do not put it so harshly." Sienna, who was always expressionless toward me, was now glaring at me fiercely, chiding me for another man.

Unbothered to watch their display of affection any longer, I picked up my luggage and turned to leave.

Sienna wanted to chase after me, but was stopped by the sobbing Ethan in her arms.

After comforting Ethan, Sienna searched all the shopping malls, cafes, and parks I frequented, but could not find me.

Seeing her distraught state, Ethan comforted her. "Do not worry. You have been together for seven years. Clint will not leave you. Besides, he is a uremia patient. Where could he possibly go? Do not worry about it."

A knock rang at the door. Sienna breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to open it. "Clint, where have you been..."

It was a deliveryman holding a plastic bag at the door. "Miss, this is from the city hospital. They said Mr. Button prescribed some medicine, but forgot to take it."

Sienna opened it and saw the words "Post‑Kidney Transplant Instructions" written in large font.

Late at night at the airport, I boarded a flight to go overseas.

A moment before takeoff, I received a text message from Sienna.

Sienna: [Clint, do not be impulsive. Whatever it is, could you come back and talk about it?]

I replied just like her: [2: No]

After sending that text, I removed the SIM card and turned off my phone.