When the Last Rejection Turned Into a Plea

It was the last time I ever set foot in the Falcone family's law firm. I could feel the cold marble grinding under my feet, and every step sent a shooting pain through my body.

My leukemia was so far gone that I could barely walk, and even breathing was a struggle. "I would like to file for a divorce from Don Falcone."

The lawyer in his fancy suit looked me over with pity in his eyes. "Did you come alone? That isn't how things are usually done—"

It was probably how sickly and thin I appeared that made him speak so gently.

After all those years of marriage, Rocco Falcone never even gave me a proper wedding to make it official. He rarely brought me along to important family events.

That was why most people in the Falcone family had no clue I was married to the Don.

I calmly cut him off. "It doesn't matter. I'm already dying. I don't need them."

The words were barely out of my mouth when the door slammed open. Rocco yelled, "What the hell are you doing, Claire?"

I turned and found his eyes blazing with anger. Sofia Moretti—my younger sister—came in right after him, her signature phony grin perfectly in place.

He stormed up to me. "You just had to make a scene today, didn't you? Sofia just landed a key financial role, and the entire family was celebrating with her. Why did you have to stir things up now?"

He hit me without warning. I stumbled back from the impact, my cheek instantly swelling and burning.

A few seconds passed before I realized that tonight was actually Sofia's celebration dinner. Rocco had even postponed his Cartham trip for territory issues to be there for her.

Meanwhile, I was here with terminal leukemia, using our emergency code to call for help. But even though I was his wife, he treated it like I was abusing the protocol.

My vision blurred with tears, but I fought to hold them back.

I started to say something when a wave of violent coughing seized me. Blood splattered the floor, leaving dark red stains on the shiny beige marble.

After regaining my balance, I tried to explain in a shaky voice, still clinging to some last bit of hope. "I honestly didn't, Rocco."

Rocco might have spotted the blood at the corner of my mouth, and he furrowed his brows.

Sofia's delicate voice piped up at just the right time. "Rocco came here straight from the celebration to deal with your problem, Claire."

Lily Marone, my mom, complained at the doorway, "I told you we should ignore her. Nothing good ever comes when she is around. She has done all sorts of things for attention since she was young. Did she really think we would fall for such an obvious trick now?"

Rocco's face hardened. "Did you go as far as to harm yourself to get me here and sabotage Sofia's big night, Claire?"

He closed in on me and grabbed my collar.

Sofia quickly pulled him back. Her eyes welled up as she looked at me pitifully, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Claire. I never should have accepted this promotion. This is all my fault. Please stop hurting yourself.

"Rocco has been through so much because of you. If you can truly change for the better, I swear I'll never accept any more recognition from the family again."

Her words hit where it hurt most, shoving me further into the abyss and painting me as a villain behind everything.

Lily's tone immediately softened at those words. "Don't blame yourself, sweetheart. Someone as exceptional as you deserves every honor."

This wasn't the first time I had watched their loving scene, but it still cut deep every single time.

It had been ages since I had felt the kind of love a mother should have for me. These days, every ounce of it went to Sofia, but it hardly mattered. Facing death made me care less about many things.

I felt nothing inside. Before I knew it, bitter tang spread across my tongue as blood trickled from my lips.

Rocco took the doctor's report from me, glanced at it, and sneered. "Leukemia? You're terrible at faking being sick."

With a sharp rip, he tore the report to shreds, leaving paper scraps around my feet. His gaze lingered on my pale face for a second.

When our eyes met, I thought about how his eyes used to gleam at my 18th birthday. However, they were just dull and empty. The love had died, taking with it the spark.

I raised my trembling hand to wipe away the blood, fighting to keep my failing body upright as I turned to the lawyer again. "I'm cutting ties with my family and filing for divorce. Get it done so I'm free to go in three days."

Rocco flinched and grabbed my wrist. "You dragged the family lawyer into this just to ruin Sofia's celebration."

He spat through clenched teeth, "This is ridiculous. You need to go home and think about what you've done, Claire. Stop embarrassing yourself here."

Then, he put his arm around Sofia's waist and walked out without looking back.

Staring at my bruised wrist, I laughed bitterly and shook my head. I should have known better.

He never trusted me.

Fighting through the pain, I went ahead and signed the divorce papers. On the day I died, he would receive those signed papers and my will.

With just three days left to live, I ended our marriage with my own hands. Meanwhile, my husband was celebrating another woman's glory with his arm around her.