Chapter 3 Maybe When You're Dead

The shock was too much for Nicole's grandmother. Her condition got worse quickly, and the doctors hurried to help her. However, I was the only one who could perform surgery on her.

By the time I finally broke down my bedroom door and escaped, my feet were cut and bleeding. I raced to the hospital, desperate to arrive in time.

Still, I was too late.

The doctors had done all they could, but without surgery, nothing more was possible. Nicole's grandmother died in agony, and I was blamed for it.

Nicole stood at the end of the hallway, glaring at me with hatred. "I was stupid enough to fall in love with you. That's my mistake. But what did my grandmother ever do to deserve this?"

Her voice shook with anger as she continued, "Alex Calder, you're the youngest oncology specialist in the state. Is this how you treat your patients? My grandmother is dead. Are you happy now?"

I shook my head frantically, trying to explain what had really happened.

However, Nicole wouldn't listen. She wouldn't even look at me before turning and walking away.

…

After that, I had a huge fight with my mother.

I signed the papers to cut all ties with her and moved out, determined never to have anything to do with her again.

My mother was furious that I went against her. She used her contacts to keep me out of hospitals, so I had to work in a factory.

Three years passed, and I started having bad stomach pains. Soon after, I began coughing up blood as well.

After years as a doctor, I knew those symptoms were serious. Even before the diagnosis, I had a bad feeling about what was going on.

My own body was beginning to fail.

The sound of running water brought me back. I had been so caught up in my memories I didn't notice Nicole turning the faucet back on.

The anesthesiologist stood beside her, looking embarrassed.

"Sorry," he said, scratching his head. "You two were so close back then, so I just assumed..."

A flicker of mockery crossed Nicole's face.

He wasn't wrong about how close we'd been. But by the end of my life, Nicole and I had become strangers.

While I was fighting cancer every day, her career was growing fast. She rose to fame after handling an important surgery and was rapidly becoming one of the country's top doctors.

Ironically, she was also the only person who could help treat my cancer.

But I couldn't bring myself to ask her for help.

I never forgave myself for her grandmother's death. Even after all these years, guilt stayed with me. Night after night, I'd wake from bad dreams crying, my body hurting as I said sorry to someone who would never hear me.

I hated my mother for what she did, but deep inside, I hated myself just as much.

Then, one day, I collapsed in my rented apartment.

My landlord found me unconscious and called an ambulance. When I woke up in the hospital, the doctor told me how serious my condition was and urged me to keep getting treatment.

I refused.

He looked at me in disbelief. "Why would you quit when you still have a chance?"

I gave him a bitter smile. "I can't afford it."

The doctor fell silent.

Eventually, I got out of bed and slowly walked to the exit, holding onto the wall for support. I could barely walk, and each step was harder than the one before.

That was when I ran into Nicole.

She stood in the hallway wearing her white coat, talking about a cancer patient's surgery plan with another doctor. She looked confident and successful, very different from the young woman who once waited outside the hospital to take me home after work.

However, the moment she noticed me, her smile vanished.

"What are you doing here?"

I froze.

There was so much I wanted to tell her. I wanted to explain what really happened that night, how sorry I was about her grandmother, and how much I regretted losing her.

Yet, when I finally found my voice, I could only ask one thing. "Nicole, do you think you could ever forgive me for what happened three years ago?"

She looked at me coldly, with no trace of sympathy. "Maybe when you're dead."

With that, she turned and walked away.

I stood watching her disappear down the hallway, unable to move. After a while, a bitter smile spread across my face.

'Nicole, I won't be around much longer. Maybe once I'm gone, you'll finally be able to forgive me.'

The memory faded, and I looked at Nicole again.

She finished drying her hands and walked out of the operating area, her expression as unreadable as ever.

Later, as she walked down the hospital hallway, Nicole ran into my mother again. She had returned to finish her retirement paperwork.

The sight of my mother seemed to remind Nicole of what the anesthesiologist said earlier. Her lips curled into a cold, mocking smile. "There was never anything real between me and someone like Alex."

My mother stopped walking.

She looked at Nicole, her face filled with guilt and sorrow.

For a long moment, she seemed unsure of what to say. Finally, she let out a heavy sigh. "Don't blame Alex for what happened back then. He did nothing wrong. It was all my fault."