Wandering The Desert For Eternity
On the day I found out I was dying, Evan Buck, my husband, came home with a “dating contract” he had signed with his assistant, Cherry Mello.
“She threatened to kill herself if I didn’t agree to date her for three months.” He continued with a sincere gaze. “But don’t worry. It’s just indulging a young girl’s wish. You’re the one I love. I promise you, after three months, she’ll resign, and we’ll never hear from her again.”
I knew that when Evan made up his mind, there was no talking him out of it.
Just like how I had long seen the unmistakable longing in Cherry’s eyes when she looked at him.
However, he said I was overthinking and refused to dismiss her.
Looking at the man I had loved for ten years before me, I quietly slipped the terminal diagnosis behind my back.
Three months.
What a coincidence.
That was exactly how much time I had left.