Chapter 2

I thought he was moved to tears back then, too overwhelmed to speak. It turned out he was just struggling to keep from laughing out loud.

Everything my mom and I had sacrificed to give him was nothing more than a pocket-change joke in his world of luxury.

Nicole tilted her head, smiling sweetly. "Hey, stop teasing Charles! It was my idea not to get pregnant, so I told Charles to let her keep the baby instead."

"If it’s a boy, we’ll throw two hundred grand at her to buy him off. I heard she’s super stingy and money-hungry, anyway. And if it’s a girl? We’ll just have somebody raise her. How much could that even cost?"

Every single word stabbed right into my chest like a blade.

Part of me desperately wished Charles would say something to deny it. Instead, his silence offered nothing but total betrayal.

Suddenly, one of the guys burst into a mocking laugh. "Nicole, the target you picked for this prank is so lame. Her dad literally begged me to buy his plot of land for a measly ten grand. How can someone be so hopelessly poor? My ribs hurt from holding in my laughter!"

Nicole giggled, melting right into Charles’ arms.

Charles looked annoyed, as if my very existence was an embarrassment to him. Yet, all I could see was the memory of my dad, his back hunched, hiking twenty miles just to hand me his life's savings for the cornea surgery.

He had been covered in dirt, but his eyes were so bright with hope.

"My baby girl is so beautiful... I have to make sure my son-in-law gets to see you at least once."

I watched the scene inside the room with total composure, even as my world was crashing down before me.

My phone buzzed.

It was a text from the hospital, attached to a non-disclosure agreement. [Ma'am, are you sure you don't want to think this over? This experimental drug is excruciatingly painful. Even grown men can't tolerate it.]

Without hesitation, I signed my name, because nothing could ever hurt more than this.

It was as if I had planned to die in the winter, only to be dragged back to the living world by sheer, agonizing pain.

…

Back at our rented apartment, I pushed through the pain to pack up all of Charles' things and dump them straight into the trash.

I even took a pair of scissors and shredded our bucket-list photo album.

The photo of him holding me while I shivered at a bungee jumping platform, making a peace sign; him frantically giving me CPR after I fainted while scuba diving. There was a picture of him laughing as he pushed me out of the plane cabin when my legs went weak during skydiving.

All those first times when I had literally gambled with my life, I had thought they were precious memories for him, too. Only now did I realize they were just cheap thrills to kill his time.

At 8.30 p.m., Charles came home, intentionally tapping his blind cane loudly against the floor.

He grumbled under his breath, "Why didn't you come pick me up?"

Usually, I would have rushed over, apologizing and coaxing him, but not today.

"Saving two bucks on gas again... so damn stingy."

Even though his mutterings were faint, every word reached my ears loud and clear.

I could barely believe what I was hearing. I was only stingy with myself, even cutting back on my own painkillers. I had hand-sewn every single piece of baby clothing just to save a bit more.

However, with Charles? Knowing he was an orphan, I had never withheld a single dime, even if his past turned out to be just another lie.

After a suffocating silence, Charles seemed slightly taken aback by my lack of response. Suddenly, a small medicine bottle slipped from my hand, clattering and rolling right to his feet.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

If he took off those dark glasses and read the label, "Cancer Treatment", maybe he’d feel a shred of remorse.

Every night, I stayed up until my eyes bled, translating ten documents a night just to save up money he never even needed. And all this time, he had played blind to it all.

Just as he bent down slightly, his phone rang.

A smirk instantly curled Charles' lips, and he carelessly tossed a box into my lap. "Your birthday gift. I need to take a client call."

I stared at the velvet box, feeling nothing but a cold, hollow apathy for the first time. As I walked into the bedroom to get my medication, I overheard Charles' chuckle coming through the phone line.

"Don't worry, whatever she has isn't contagious. She’s probably recovered by now and is just being dramatic. Besides, I secretly swapped her pills out a while ago, and she’s totally fine."