Masuk
JADE
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Ederson. There’s nothing more we can do. You should contact your family and say your goodbyes,” Doctor Declan says. My chest feels hollow. Not because of his words, but because the people who are supposed to care for me have vanished months ago. My husband hasn’t come since he dropped me off at the hospital. Not even once. No calls. No texts. No messages in the dead of the night. My mother-in-law? Nothing. And my own family? They all disappeared. It’s as if I have faded out of existence. I try convincing myself they are busy. Probably work. Life. Responsibilities. But how busy can someone be to forget their own sick daughter… their own dying wife? My fingers tremble as I borrow Doctor Declan’s phone again. My love, it’s Jade. Please… come. I need to see you. Something urgent came up. And I miss you. The message delivers. Daniel receives it. He reads it. And he doesn’t reply. He has stopped picking up my calls or replying to my texts for a while now. I stare at my reflection on the black screen. A young bald woman. Cheeks sunken. Skin pale as paper left in the rain. I’m almost twenty-five, yet I look decades older. One year of marriage has hollowed me out. “Ovarian cancer,” Doctor Declan told me six months ago. Stage three. Last month, they removed my womb. Children were the only thing I had ever dreamed of. A house filled with laughter. Tiny socks scattered across the floor. A little hand gripping mine. I wanted to be a good mother. To give them what I never had. Now… that dream is gone. Only one person shows up to visit me. Barbara Kent, my best friend since childhood. She is my anchor in this endless storm. As I lie upright in bed, staring at the sun through the open window, Barbara walks in, wearing all white. A diamond ring sparkles on her finger. That wasn't there before. She smiles the moment she catches my eye. I can’t help but smile back. “My dearest Jade,” she whispers, hugging me gently, careful of the IV lines. “How have you been?” “You’re engaged?” My voice cracks, thin from treatments. Barbara smiles softly. “I didn’t want to tell you while you were sick.” “Right. Because engagements are medically dangerous to cancer patients. My being sick doesn't stop us from sharing each other’s joy. I’m happy for you. And I mean it. Who’s the lucky man?” She laughs. “No one you know.” “You’re smiling too much. Are you sure I don’t know him? Is it Eddy?” Barbara shakes her head shyly. “Maybe you know him. But that doesn’t matter.” She looks around. “I see Daniel still hasn’t visited. I’ll talk to him. And your family. They should come see you too.” “Today's our first anniversary. But I'm spending it all alone, I guess.” Barbara grabs my hand firmly. “You’re not alone. I’m here.” I blink my tears away, forcing a wry smile. What could I have done without her? When my mother-in-law heard about my sickness, she told me a woman without a womb is no woman at all. And my own mother told me to my face that I’m useless to my husband. Barbara slides some papers across the bed. Insurance documents from work. Zenovar Industries wants me out. They’re replacing me. I don't bother to read them. My hands tremble but I sign the documents anyway. Barbara leaves shortly after. I’m alone again. There is nothing much to do in a hospital. I know every patient, every visitor, every doctor, and nurse. Even the cleaners. I know them all by name. Daniel. My mind circles him. I lie back, watching time crawl. We used to be so happy before we got married. Where did it all go wrong? Was it something I did? Pain stacks my body. I groan, holding my side. The cancer has spread. My organs are failing. Doctor Declan said I have just a week or less. But all I can see is the life I never got to live with the man I love more than anything. Even if he hasn’t come to visit, I know it must be for a good reason. Daniel hates hospitals. Maybe he’s too scared to see me the way I am. And my family? Maybe they avoid the hospital because it hurts too much. Maybe they’re grieving in their own way. I don't have much time left. I should go home and see everyone instead. I have a gift in store for them. Once they hear about it, they’ll be twice as happy. The nurses won’t let me leave if I tell them. So I change my overalls and put on my clothes that have been lying in the closet like a decoration. Night has fallen by the time I slip out of the hospital. The wig I’m wearing makes it almost effortless. Barbara got it for me the day they shaved my head, but tonight is the first time I’ve ever worn it. Ha ha! It’s ironic. I finally look alive just in time to die. I take a taxi home. But the house is loud before I even step inside. There is music, laughter, glasses clinking. I walk through the open gates unnoticed. Could it be a surprise for me, I wonder. I’m so happy I refused to believe Daniel could have forgotten our anniversary. Maybe he planned to come for me at the hospital. My heart soars as I reach the porch—only to see the front door wide open, champagne bursting into the air inside. Gold balloons. Then a banner that says, “Congratulations on your engagement Daniel & Barbara.” I stop breathing. I pause at the corner where no one can see me, frozen in place. Barbara and Daniel stand before my entire family. Barbara in the same white dress, Daniel holding her waist possessively. My mother, father, and brother clapping. My mother-in-law screams for joy, shouting, “Finally!” The music stops. My legs tremble as I take another peek. Then I step back behind the hallway wall, gasping for breath. The next voice I hear is my husband's. “To seven years of patience,” he toasts. Barbara laughs. “I didn't expect her to last this long with the dosage.” My heart slams painfully. Dosage? What are they talking about? My mother chimes in, “The fake cancer diagnosis was genius. Removing her womb solved everything. Who would’ve known she’d finally accept defeat?” My father scoffs. “Fifty million dollars waiting in that trust. And now that she’s signed the next-of-kin documents, once she dies, it’s automatically yours, Daniel. I mean, ours.” Daniel smirks. “All because she trusted me. I kind of feel bad for her.” Barbara leans into him. “You never loved her anyway. You just needed access.” Daniel’s voice turns colder. “She was always just an investment. So kind, quiet, loyal, and obedient. Children would have been a complication. That’s why I had her womb removed. I didn’t even want kids with a woman like her.” I feel the world tilt. It can’t be. The constant headaches, the stomach pain, and dizziness, were all poison? Fake cancer. My womb. My children… gone. Everything was planned. I don’t want to believe it. My eyes well with unshed tears. I hold them back. The trust fund; Fifty million dollars. They knew about it. But how? Seven years ago… that’s when I met Daniel in college. Then it hits me: It was Daniel’s plan. He had known about the trust fund from the beginning. But how did he find out? My hands tremble violently as the realization crashes on me like a tidal wave. I stumble backward, overcome by fear. A vase crashes. Silence falls in the living room. “Did you hear that?” Barbara asks. I try to run but it’s too late. My brother Mason appears from behind and grabs my arm. He pushes me inside like a lamb to a slaughterhouse. “Look what I found,” he says proudly. They all gasp, “Jade?”He lifts me properly and helps me stand on my own two feet, which threaten to wobble if he lets go. His hands retreat slowly, making sure I’m steady.“I’m good,” I assure him. “And I accept your condition. I’m not leaving until our contract is over and until I get my revenge.”He stares at me intently, as if searching for even a trace of doubt on my face, but I hold his gaze, unshaken.As if satisfied with what he sees, he smiles. “Good girl,” he says, patting my head like I’m a creature he’s finally tamed. The heat of it lingers on my skin long after he turns toward the kitchen. We eat in silence. I watch him feast on the salmon, his movements graceful, and I realize he isn’t just eating to prove he isn’t mad. He’s eating because I asked him to. It’s a terrifying realization of the kind of power I’m not sure I’m allowed to have.“Did you always have magic hands?”I blink, suddenly shy, wondering if he caught me staring. “What?”“You cook incredible dishes,” he says. “You’re just ama
I push myself up. “I already apologized.”He looks at me, disappointment written all over his face. He steps closer but doesn't touch me.“You don’t get to leave,” he says quietly. “Not when the people who ruined your life are still breathing down your neck.”The truth lands heavily. I freeze, my mind suddenly going quiet. Zayn’s with me because of the things I must have said that night at the hotel. Not because he loves me—because he wants to see me safe. “Zayn—”But he’s already walking out. He doesn't slam the door or care to close it. He just walks out silently as if he couldn't stand me anymore. I collapse onto the bed, weeping softly, my palms covering my face.Hours later, the house is still quiet. Zayn isn't speaking to me. It feels wrong not to exchange words with him, not to try to win the challenge I’d set up against him in my head. I like to prove that I’m right. But this time, I don't because I’m not right.My mom used to say the way to a man’s heart is through his stoma
The sound of sirens cut through the chaos. It sounds very close. The boy with the knife snaps. He lunges—either to prove a point or because fear made him stupid. Zayn catches his wrist mid-air and slams it into the wall. The knife clatters to the ground. “You shouldn't have done that,” Zayn snarls. Another twist. Another sickening snap. The boy crumples, clutching his arm, screaming. Kendall stumbles free, scrambling toward me. I grab and embrace her tightly. The third guy runs. He barely makes it two steps before Zayn grabs him by the collar and hurls him straight into a metal dumpster. The impact echoes through the alley. Red and blue lights flash across the walls. “Police! Don’t move!” Officers rush in, weapons drawn. They take in the scene instantly—three men down, one pinned, two barely conscious, one woman bruised, another shaking, and one man standing tall, totally unharmed and unfazed. Zayn steps back. Not because he has to. But because he’s done. “I called it in,” he pr
My hand goes still. I don’t process what he just said. Suddenly I do. Nice ring. Give it to us. And we let her go. The world narrows instantly. My fingers instinctively curl over my hand before I even look at it properly, like I’m shielding it from them. The ring is the only thing holding me in place, a reminder of the man I just realized I can't live without. The leader smirks when he sees my hesitation. “Come on,” he says softly. “It’s just a ring.” Just a ring? My throat tightens. Kendall shifts in their grip, a small sound of pain escaping her when the knife presses a little deeper. “Don’t—” she chokes out, eyes locking on mine. “Don’t listen to them.” “Shut up,” the other guy holding her snaps, then covers her mouth with his free hand. “Hand over the ring,” the leader coerces. “No,” I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through my veins. “I’ll transfer the money. I’ll write a check. But you’re not touching this ring.” He laughs, darker this time. “A chec
I turn slowly, taking it all in. It’s not exactly a “fair,” but it might as well be. String lights hang lazily overhead even though it’s still daytime. Booths line the street—food, games, random pop-up vendors selling things no one actually needs but everyone somehow wants. There’s a small crowd gathered around a performer doing something impressive with fire. Who could have known there are so many couples? They’re basically everywhere I turn. A guy feeds his girlfriend a bite of something dripping in sauce. She laughs and they kiss. Another pair walks past me, fingers intertwined like they’ll die if they let go. I scoff and keep moving. My traitorous brain starts pulling me back to the kitchen. The stupid high-five. The way Zayn had looked at me like I’d just handed him my heart. I shake my head like I can physically throw the thought away. I stop walking for a second, pressing my lips together. I left. That’s the point. To start over elsewhere. So why does it feel like I’m ca
~JADE~ I have the perfect plan. Really. Step one: take my suitcase and leave—but it’s going to slow me down, so no. Leave without the suitcase. Step two: Leave the phone so the GPS doesn't turn me into a tracked animal. Step three: Walk until the smell of sea salt and Zayn Hemsworth is out of my lungs. I spend all night wondering why I’m going insane over him—why a man I barely know is making me question my morals. I can’t rest. I wake before the sun, only to realize that my midnight plans no longer make any sense. Run away? That’s just ridiculous. Instead, I do something that surprises even me—I cook. I make breakfast, humming under my breath like fucking Snow White. I’m not doing this because I’m domestic. I'm doing it because I need something to do with my hands before I do something stupid… like knocking on his door and asking him why he looks at me like that. Then I start wondering if he’ll even like what I’m making. I don’t know what Zayn’s favorite food is. Maybe
“You forgot your dress,” Zayn says. “Are you okay?” I can see the steam rising from the fabric of his shirt. I know it’s blistering him yet he only cares to know if I’m okay. Nobody has ever defended me like this. Not even Daniel when he pretended to love me. But Zayn did it without hesitation.
Barbara pulls me into the pantry and shuts the door. She crosses her arms, eyes blazing. “What is wrong with you? You seem different. VERY different.” She sounds concerned. In my past life, I’d have believed every word that came out of her lying mouth. I would've cried about work and how diffic
I’m naked inside the robe. Zayn had undressed me last night while I was… Nope! I don't wanna imagine that. My brain wants to explode. I grab my phone and sprint for the door before he wakes. I don't know if I can face him. I don’t want to see him again. Not today. Not ever. Especially not with tha
Zayn’s vicious smirk fades into something more clinical, more restrained. His voice drops into an octave, “You’re drunk, Jade. And I don’t take what isn’t offered by a sober mind.” My fingers tangle deeper into his hair. “This is an offer. I’m tired of being the woman who waits for permission.”







