Chapter 3

By evening, I felt feverish, my whole body burning up, yet I shivered with cold and my head throbbed painfully. I huddled under the quilt, shivering uncontrollably... so cold, so painful. In my haze, his image suddenly appeared in my mind. But when I looked closely, it vanished.

I tried to clear my mind, to stay calm, and reached for the phone under my pillow, silently calling out his name, hoping to ease the pain seeping from my bones.

"Ring..."

Please answer. I just needed to hear your voice, to hear you say my name.

The ringing stopped abruptly as the call connected, and the voice on the other end made my breath catch.

"Be gentle, it hurts..."

I quickly hung up, the pain spreading throughout my body, from my head to my heart, from my heart to my throat.

I coughed violently, and there was blood on the sheets.

The next morning, I awoke to see a man's silhouette, thinking he had returned.

I strained to open my eyes, still at home, with Josh sitting by the bed. His eyes were bloodshot, suggesting he hadn't slept all night.

"If I didn't know where you lived, who knows if you'd be alive or dead right now."

"Thank you," I whispered, feeling a bit dizzy.

"Did you know you coughed up blood last night? Jack wasn't home and didn't come back all night. Where did he go? It's outrageous."

Josh recalled bringing a locksmith to the house last night and the scene he witnessed still haunted him.

"We're divorced," I muttered.

Josh looked at me in surprise, wanting to say something but then closing his mouth.

"Call me if you need anything. You need someone to take care of you in your condition."

Suddenly, I felt a wave of nausea and rushed to the bathroom.

"Ugh, ugh..." My empty stomach churned, and a sour liquid surged up.

"The medicine I gave you shouldn't cause vomiting."

"I don't know, it's been happening a lot lately. Maybe I ate something bad." I grabbed a tissue to wipe my mouth.

"When was your last period?"

I snapped back to reality and calculated.

"Two months ago..."

I hurried to the bedroom to get a pregnancy test and followed the instructions and used it. The test result showed two bright lines.

"Let's schedule the procedure for tomorrow," Josh said, his eyes heavy with concern.

My heart dropped. I knew this wasn't the right time for a child, but I wanted to keep it. It was our creation. If I kept the baby, maybe he wouldn't divorce me. I was lost in thought.

But Josh interrupted me and said, "You can't keep this child. The cancer cells could be hereditary. Do you want the child to suffer like you? And you took fever medicine last night. Do you think the baby could be healthy with that?"

Josh's words pierced me deeply, leaving me speechless.

"Let's arrange the procedure for tomorrow," I said, lowering my eyes, my lips trembling uncontrollably.

After the procedure, Josh and another doctor discussed my condition. It had worsened, and they suggested starting chemotherapy to prolong my life.

I left the operating room, my body weak and unsteady, feeling an overwhelming sense of despair. I just wanted to let the last moments of my life pass quietly.

He appeared at the door of the operating room, likely informed by someone who saw me enter the obstetrics department.

He approached and snatched the procedure form from my hand, seeing the abortion paperwork.

"You're pregnant? Whose child is it?"

"It's not yours, anyway," I forced myself to say.

"If it's not mine, why did you abort it?" he asked angrily.

I didn't know how to respond. At that moment, Josh arrived and silently took me away. He stood there, too angry to speak.

For the next half month, Josh applied for medical leave for me and stayed by my side, personally preparing nutritional supplements to nourish me.

Josh's kindness grew, transforming from a mere colleague to a friend, and I didn't know how to repay him.

Seeing how well he treated me, I accepted the treatment plan he devised for me.

The first step was chemotherapy, but it caused my hair to fall out rapidly. After just a few sessions, half my hair was gone, and I had to wear a hat to work every day. Josh was concerned about my concerns, so he bought me all kinds of wigs. With them, I felt much more at ease.

After work, my colleagues liked to joke around, and one accidentally pulled off my wig. I covered my head in shock, my thinning hair exposed to everyone.