Chapter 1 Advanced Brain Cancer

Madelyn Owen stepped out of the hospital as the wind whipped against her cheeks, leaving them raw.

She pressed a palm to her face, and then crushed the stack of lab results into a tight ball before tossing them into the nearest bin. Her features stayed unreadable, though inside her head, the doctor's grim voice wouldn't stop replaying. "Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you're in the advanced stage of brain cancer. Surgery is urgent. There are serious risks and possible side effects, but... it's your only chance. Without it, you might have only a year."

Her hands shook while she fished her phone out, dialing a number she knew by heart. Each time it rang and went unanswered, frustration built, but she kept trying, calling again and again, hope shrinking with every failed attempt.

Standing on the curb as the cold air cut right through her, she suddenly saw herself from a distance-just a desperate woman clinging to something already lost.

Her husband, Noah Mitchell, the only man she'd ever truly cared for, would not pick up.

"I'm running out of time... Is it too much to ask for a little kindness? Why does it have to be this way?" Madelyn whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

She could not help but wonder-if she hadn't thrown caution aside and rushed into marriage with Noah, would any of this have played out differently?

...

Later that night, darkness swallowed every corner of a luxurious villa. The chandelier's icy light painted strange shadows across the wide bed.

Noah's movements grew harsh and impatient. Madelyn's skull smacked against the headboard, pain radiating behind her eyes.

A searing ache pulsed in her skull, vision swimming in and out. Her instinct was to pull back and protect herself, but his grip held her fast, leaving her powerless to escape.

Pain had always frightened Madelyn.

Her childhood in the Owen family had been one of luxury and gentle hands. Her father and brother guarded her from every scrape and bruise, never letting hardship touch her.

But the moment she heard that Noah had been in a car crash and might lose his sight, she never hesitated-she gave up part of her corneas for him.

Her vision had been impaired to some extent. And that act of selflessness-paired with poor recovery afterward-had sparked an infection that slowly unraveled into brain cancer.

Never once did she breathe a word to Noah about the donation. She knew his pride would never let him accept such a gift.

Now, as agony tore through her, every drop of color vanished from her face. She pressed her teeth into her lip to keep from crying out.

Deep down, she understood the truth-her suffering would never matter to Noah. Even if the pain finished her off, he would not so much as flinch.

After what felt like ages, Noah's low growl marked the end of her ordeal.

Without a word, he rose from the bed, pulling on his clothes with detached efficiency before disappearing into the bathroom.

Blinded by pain, Madelyn forced her eyes open. All she could see was a shifting blur.

She guessed the impact with the headboard had jarred her optic nerve.

Was the blindness setting in already?

Dread settled heavy in her chest. She tried to pull herself upright, but her foot snagged in the blankets, sending her tumbling to the hard floor.

Cold seeped through her skin as she curled up on the floor. Water ran in the bathroom, but her vision offered nothing but formless gray.

A chill settled over her, sharp and relentless-just like the snow that had buried her during that avalanche.