The Husband She Loved Too Late

Samantha Cole sent me a divorce agreement. My grip loosened, and the document slipped from my hand, falling to the floor.

Just as I was about to pick it up, I saw that my hands were covered in blood. Hence, I stopped. Instead, I reached for the rubbing alcohol on the bedside table.

I wanted to clean myself up before signing the agreement. At the very least, I did not want my condition to disgust Samantha when she saw it.

Unexpectedly, I overextended my arm and aggravated the injury in my chest. In an instant, the sharp pain pulled me back to bed.

I took a few deep breaths. As I lay on my back, I was too weak to lift a finger.

The light from the overhead crystal chandelier stung my eyes.

Still, no matter how painful it was, it could not compare to the absurdities and agonies of my simple life.

…

For the past five years of our marriage, I had been advising Samantha from behind the scenes and helping her secure her position as CEO of Cole Group. After being kicked out, I willingly became her henchman and privately helped her resolve one internal conflict after another within the company.

Even today, I was injured due to dealing with Peter Cole, Samantha's half-brother. He had always engaged in petty sabotage against her at the company. This time, he had even secretly colluded with a shady supply chain in an attempt to seize power.

I had risked my life for Samantha. And what I received in return was a divorce agreement.

I glanced down at the bullet holes in my body.

No doubt, I was badly injured this time. On top of that, after being diagnosed with cancer a month ago, I had never gone to the hospital for proper treatment.

Harboring a desire for revenge, I lay alone in our room and waited to die.

Even though my body grew colder and colder, the memories from the past became clearer and clearer.

The Cole family adopted me when I was 12. I was two years older than Samantha, and we were childhood sweethearts.

Our first time being apart was when I went to university alone in the north.

It was a snowy Christmas season, on the night of my birthday.

Samantha, who was still in high school, skipped class and secretly took a long-distance bus to visit me.

The snow was falling heavily. While carrying a cake, Samantha ran excitedly toward me. But halfway there, a dry branch suddenly fell from a tree and struck her on the head.

Her smile vanished instantly. Scrunching up her face, she threw herself into my arms and cried pitifully.

"Joshua, it's all your fault."

"Yes, yes. It's all my fault."

"Forget it. It's not entirely your fault. Let's try the cake I made first!"

White clouds of breath blurred her smiling eyes as she called my name again and again.

"Sammy?" I called out unconsciously.

A cold voice rang out, asking, "What's your deal?"

My mind cleared up briefly. Only then did I realize I had actually called Samantha at my weakest moment of consciousness.

Seeing that she had not hung up yet, I parted my lips and added, "Darling."

For a moment, I was stunned. After all, Samantha didn't allow me to call her "darling." When I was in a burst of excitement and called her that impulsively right after our wedding ceremony, she was so angry that she tore up our marriage certificate and stayed out all night.

But since I was about to die anyway, I figured I might as well give up caring. So in a hoarse voice, I finally voiced the longing I had buried for too long.

"I'm so cold. Can you come home and hug me?"

Samantha, however, was busy. She panted softly on the other end of the phone for a while and even seemed to lightly pat the man's arm before finally freeing herself and scolding irritably, "Joshua Davidson, will it kill you to stop being so dramatic?

"Forget it. I was just about to ask how things went. I'll head over right n—"

I could not hear the rest. I no longer had the strength to hold the phone. It slipped from my hand and fell to the floor.

Before my heart stopped beating completely, I used all my strength to raise my hand and wipe away the tears from the corner of my eyes.

As I wiped my tears, I thought to myself, 'Stop crying. You're a grown man.'

When I regained consciousness, I had become a wisp of a soul and could only stay by Samantha's side.

"Hello? Hello?" Samantha yelled into the phone. "Joshua, don't give me the silent treatment! Speak up! I'll give you three seconds, or else—"

The call was suddenly cut off with a beep.

I was surprised. For a moment, I could not guess who had hung up for me.

"Joshua, you think you're pretty tough now, huh?"

Since I had never embarrassed her like this before, Samantha could no longer contain her anger. She suddenly raised her hand and smashed the phone. One of the broken pieces grazed Oliver White's brow, leaving a cut behind.

Her temper was still just as bad. Just like when we were kids, she would swing a stick and teach everyone who bullied me a lesson.

Both versions of her looked fierce. But back then, Samantha had been much cuter.

Oliver casually wiped away the bloodstains, not a trace of anger in his expression. Instead, he smiled, stepped behind her, and pulled her into his arms.

"Samantha, don't be angry."

As expected of the man Samantha had kept by her side for three years, Oliver knew exactly how to handle her temper.

Intending to please Samantha, Oliver slowly moved his hand up her waist and whispered, "Samantha, I have helped you send a divorce agreement to Joshua, so he won't be in your way anymore. Shall we continue?"

However, instead of showering him with the warmth and affection as he anticipated, Samantha suddenly pushed Oliver away forcefully and slapped him so hard his head snapped to the side.

I exclaimed in surprise, for it was the first time I had seen Samantha slap him.

Then I gave a soft laugh. As I laughed, I suddenly remembered the last time someone's face had been turned aside like that.

Back then, it had been mine.