Chapter 5

Edward smirked, waving the medical report in front of my mom. "I'm telling the court that—"

A bomb went off in my head, leaving my mind completely blank.

Without thinking, I shrieked, "Shut up!"

My entire body began to shake uncontrollably.

Edward stared at me, his smug grin faltering.

A flash of surprise crossed his eyes.

He seemed completely thrown by my reaction, his hand holding the report freezing midair.

Every cell in my body screamed at me to snatch the paper and rip it into a million pieces, but I forced myself to pull it together.

With my mom standing right there, reacting too wildly would only give away the truth.

I resisted the urge to grab the paper and glared at Edward with pure fury instead.

"You're actually stooping low enough to fake a terminal illness? All because you're terrified I'll take half of your precious money?" I scoffed. "Let me tell you something, Edward. I don't want a single thing you own."

Feigning outrage, I grabbed my mom's arm, pulling her toward the car.

But she didn't budge. Instead, she reached out and snatched the paper straight from Edward's hand, her eyes locking onto the text.

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over us.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I struggled to keep my voice steady. "Mom, don't listen to his garbage.

"He admitted he faked the whole thing so I wouldn't divorce him and split the assets."

My mom didn't say a word.

It was as if she couldn't hear me at all. Her eyes traced the words on that single page, over and over.

My heart ached as if pierced by a thousand needles, and a sharp sting hit the back of my eyes.

I watched her shoulders slump, her posture bowing as though crushed under an invisible, unbearable weight.

Right then, searing pain sliced through my chest. It stung far worse than the day I'd learned of my illness.

I took the paper from her hands. "Mom, it's fake. I'm perfectly healthy, you know that.

"I'll go to the clinic and get a fresh checkup to prove it to you."

My mom seemed to wake from a trance, her gaze slowly shifting to meet mine.

She took my hand, her thumb softly tracing the back of my knuckles.

A sob threatened to tear from my throat, but I swallowed it down, forcing out the same desperate lie. "Mom, I'm perfectly fine. Don't listen to his absolute nonsense."

Her lips parted, but it took a long moment before she could make a sound.

"Lauren," she whispered.

My breath hitched, the pain in my chest sharp and suffocating.

My mom squeezed my hand, her grip tightening with desperate force.

She stared at me, unable to utter another word.

Then, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the pavement, losing consciousness.

Her face was paper-white.

A sob tore from my throat as I gasped for air, completely losing control.

The butler and driver rushed out of the estate, helping my mom into the back seat before speeding off toward the hospital.

I tried to scramble in after her, but Edward grabbed my wrist, pulling me back.

"We need to settle the divorce first, Lauren," he demanded.

Held back by his iron grip, I could only watch the car peel away, leaving me behind.

Edward looked at me, completely indifferent to my tears and desperation.

"You're the one who faked the report and hid it from your mother," he said. "Who else are you going to blame for this?"

Trembling violently, I spun around to face him, my eyes burning with pure rage.

I raised my hand and slapped him across the face with everything I had.

That fake, sickening smile finally disappeared from his face.

He froze, utterly stunned.

In all our years of toxic screaming matches, we had never crossed the line into physical violence.

I looked at him, the anger suddenly draining out of me. He wasn't worth the energy.

I forced my breathing to slow, my voice dropping to a flat, dead tone. "Let's get divorced."

A red handprint was blooming on his cheek.

He was never one to swallow his pride around me, yet he didn't lash out.

Instead, he looked at me with a strange confusion, as if staring at a complete stranger.

I knew what was holding him back. He was terrified of a messy asset division.

Before he could open his mouth, I spoke up, my voice hollow with exhaustion, "We'll do it your way. I'll sign the papers and walk away with nothing. I don't want a single dime of Bennett money."

What was the point of fighting over a fortune when I was already on death row?

I had been fighting purely to protect my dignity.

Now, none of it mattered.

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Edward's hand seemed to tremble at his side.

Edward stared at me, then jerked his gaze away, looking off into the distance. "Don't regret this, Lauren."

I let out a soft laugh.

Regret? I was way past that.

I pulled out my phone to hail a ride to the hospital.

The exhaustion of the day's screaming match was finally catching up to me, and my body was beginning to fail.

Now that the chaos had died down, the silence only amplified my symptoms.

The sharp, stabbing pain in my skull and the deep aches in my limbs rushed back.

Waves of hot and cold flashed through me, and when the early winter wind swept past, a violent shudder ran down my spine.

My knees felt like water, and the world began to blur around the edges.

I knew something was wrong, but my mind was too foggy to pinpoint what it was.

Edward looked back at me.

His face suddenly changed, and he grabbed my arm. "What's wrong with you?"

I couldn't see my face, but my immediate reaction was to wrench myself away from his touch.

I said coldly, "Let go."

But Edward ignored me, his face grim as he pressed a handkerchief firmly against my upper lip.

That was when I realized what was happening.

I was bleeding from my nose.

A warm, thick sensation poured from my nostrils, and dark crimson was already soaking into my collar.

Right before he pressed the cloth to my face, a heavy droplet fell, splattering onto the back of my hand.

The bright red spot was jarring, and I stared at it, completely numb.

I had known about the diagnosis for a while, but it was at this very second that the reality of my impending death actually hit home.

The constant headaches and nausea, the sudden blind spots, the vomiting, the loss of balance, they were all signs of my life slowly ticking away.

Edward, who spent every single day wishing I would drop dead, looked more terrified than anyone I'd ever seen.

I had no idea he was such a good actor.

His hands shook as he tried to stop the flow of blood, frantically shouting for the maids to bring paper towels so he could clean my hand.

"Lauren," he stammered, his voice trembling with shock. "W-What's happening to you?"