Will He Love Me When Time Runs Out?

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 insisted on marrying 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.

Madelyn's unwavering feelings for Noah could be traced back to a single, pivotal moment in her childhood.

At just eight years old, she and her mother had been swallowed by an avalanche. With her last ounce of strength, her mother pushed Madelyn out from beneath the crushing snow.

Lost and frozen with fear, Madelyn had nearly given in to hopelessness.

What stood out most was a hand-strong and steady-breaking through the blizzard to drag her out of certain death.

Through the chaos, a steady voice rang out. "You're going to be alright. I've got you."

From that day on, Madelyn never stopped searching for her mysterious savior, the memory of those kind eyes haunting her dreams.

Years later, when Noah's father handed her a photograph, she knew at once-Noah had been the boy who saved her.

Determined to repay that debt, Madelyn sacrificed everything: the Owen family's wealth, part of her sight, and years of silent devotion.

She once believed Noah's arrival in her life was a blessing, never realizing he would become the architect of her heartbreak.

As the sound of running water faded, footsteps echoed closer.

Madelyn instinctively turned toward the door. Her vision blurred, but even in the shadows, she could sense the icy distance in Noah's gaze.

What else could she possibly give? She had already poured every ounce of herself into loving him, yet he met her with nothing but resentment. Was surrendering her very life supposed to earn his affection?

The closet door swung open, hangers clattering as Noah changed into fresh clothes-he never spent the night here.

With a strained smile, Madelyn asked, "It's the 9th today. Why did you decide to come back before the usual time?"

Their marriage was nothing but a transaction-Noah's father had twisted his arm by using the woman Noah truly loved as a pawn. Afterward, his father demanded that Noah return home on the tenth of each month to keep up appearances with Madelyn.

"Sadie has returned. I have to see her," said Noah, his tone sharp and unfeeling. That alone made everything clear.

The truth struck like a blow. Sadie Barnett was the woman he had fought to shield in the past, yet she had chosen five million over him.

Oblivious to the truth, Noah always believed Madelyn had orchestrated the betrayal, and that belief kept his hatred alive.

Bitterness welled up inside Madelyn. Before she could form words, Noah's warning cut through the silence. "Stay away from her. If you interfere with her again, I swear you'll pay for it."

He was already dressed to leave, but not before throwing one last glance at her pale features.

"Look at yourself. Doesn't the sight in the mirror make you sick?" His voice dripped with contempt.

Her whole body shook. His cruelty left her gutted. She knew she looked frail and pitiful, and to him, there could be no pity in that weakness-only disgust.

...

Once Noah walked out, sleep came in restless fragments.

By midnight, the throbbing in her skull grew unbearable. She stumbled toward the medicine cabinet, desperate for relief, but the moment she swallowed the tablets, her body rejected them.

Wave after wave of nausea tore through her until bile burned her throat. Clutching the bathroom sink for support, she caught sight of her ghostly reflection, and hot tears spilled unchecked.

Determined not to collapse, Madelyn forced more pills down. At last, near dawn, the searing pain dulled beneath the medication's grip, though her spirit felt hollowed out.

Closing her eyes, she surrendered to sorrow.

A few hours later, her alarm dragged her from a fragile slumber. Dizzy and unsteady, Madelyn pushed herself upright and began to tidy her appearance, piece by piece, as though patching together a mask for the world.

For years, Madelyn's world had been split between her house and the office, pouring herself into the relentless effort of merging the Owen family's shares into the Mitchell name by sheer determination.

The business circle mocked her as naive, and even Noah dismissed it as nothing more than her chasing a fantasy.

Still, she would gladly put everything on the line for him.

Lately, relentless migraines kept her chained to home, leaving office work to pile up. When she did sit down to clear the backlog, the hours slipped away unnoticed. It was only when she glanced at the window and found night outside that she realized how late it had gotten.

Only the faint light filled the office. After signing off the last file, she stacked the papers neatly, shut down the computer, and prepared to leave.

Her house greeted her with silence, heavy as a tomb. Drained, Madelyn dropped onto the couch.

In her mind, Noah must have been spending the evening in comfort with Sadie.

She let a handful of pills tumble into her palm. Lacking the strength to even warm some water, she washed them down with a mouthful of cold. Her fingers pressed hard against her aching head as she curled up tight on the couch.

Sometimes, she wished Noah had never been the one to rescue her.

Closing her eyes, she let the sadness settle like a stone inside her chest.

...

Past midnight, pain forced Madelyn awake again. Sweat clung to her brow.

She stumbled up, fumbling for the medicine. Just then, the rumble of a car drifted in from the yard.

Madelyn paid it no mind and dry-swallowed another dose.

Suddenly, the sharp beat of hurried steps thundered in the hallway, and the door flew open with a violent kick.

Noah barged in, every line on his face set in stone. His eyes burned cold. He crossed the room in a flash, grabbed Madelyn's wrist, and hauled her toward the exit.

Pulled off balance, her voice cracked as she shouted, "What are you trying to do?"

No answer came from Noah. His hand clamped around her wrist with such force she thought the bones might snap.

Her sight swam, her skull throbbed like it was splitting apart. She fought to wrench his hand away, clawing and twisting, yet the effort left her trapped. Driven by panic, she leaned down and sank her teeth into his skin.

Her first instinct was to bite as hard as she could. But the second her mouth met his skin, she pulled back on the pressure.

Hurting him was something she could never truly do.

Watching her try to bite him only made Noah's scowl deepen. He gave a quiet grunt, jerked his hand away from hers, and flung her off as if contact left a stain.

Thrown off balance, Madelyn caught herself just as the bottle slipped from her grasp. The sound of glass breaking echoed, and a flurry of pills scattered over the floor.

One hand pressed to the wall, she finally managed to steady herself. When she forced her gaze up, her vision was nothing but shapes and shadows.

Fingers massaging her wrist, she fought past the pain throbbing behind her eyes and managed to say, "Tell me what you want."

"I need you at the hospital. Sadie's been hurt and she needs your blood," said Noah, his words sharp and cold.

Madelyn retorted, "Give me one good reason."

She owed Sadie nothing but a shared blood type. Why should she become the one called in to donate when Sadie needed blood?

"You ordered her abduction. She got hurt because of you. The least you can do is make this right," Noah responded, his tone full of self-righteous anger.

Abduction? The word left a bitter sting in her chest. At her feet lay the very pills she had swallowed in desperation, yet he hadn't even noticed them.