Chapter 3

Huddled in the back seat, I watched the two of them, wrapped up in each other.

The car pulled up a short distance from the company.

Mark glanced at the chat window and reminded: [Nora, she's coming to see me this afternoon. Unless you have something urgent, it's best if you keep your distance.]

I straightened up a bit, trying to shake off the heaviness in my chest.

I couldn't help but think back to how eager I was when I sent those texts this morning.

If the bus accident hadn't happened, I would still be clueless right now, dreaming about that delayed honeymoon with Mark.

A week ago, back when my health hadn't fallen apart, I went to my doctor for a prescription, hoping for something that would work.

It cost a fortune, pretty much drained all the savings I had.

My doctor looked me in the eye and said, "Nora, you need to think about it. These injections will give you a temporary boost, but honestly, it's just your body burning through its last reserves.

"If you go down this path, there's no way you'll make it out alive."

I remember that day, the sunlight was warm and gentle.

I forced a faint smile, rolled up my sleeve, and tried to act casual.

I said, "Honestly, I am terrified of dying.

"But if I keep at this much longer, there's no way I'll be able to keep it from my husband."

I booked two tickets, planning to take that honeymoon, the one we missed out on ten years ago.

I even wanted to choose a quiet coastline for myself, a place for my last goodbye, where I could slip away unnoticed.

But I never thought my story would end on the road before I could even see him one last time.

The car door slammed shut.

Mark deftly pulled out his wrinkled shirt and clipped on his employee badge.

He settled into his cubicle, as carefully and timidly as always.

It was the same as I'd seen for the past decade.

But as soon as his coworkers spotted him, they all scrambled to their feet.

"Mr. Winters, back at it again today?" one of them said jokingly.

Mark waved it off, and everyone immediately put on their serious faces.

"Got it, Mark," someone replied quickly.

The moment Mark walked in, fingers began drumming on keyboards all across the cubicles.

If he stepped out for a bathroom break, the person at the next desk would literally keep a timer on that.

Mark got right into character and often frowned.

It was clear that he'd been dumped with another nightmare assignment.

I'd come to Mark's office so many times before, and every single time I saw him like that, my heart would ache for him.

Whenever I spoke to him, I'd always lower my voice, hoping he'd listen.

"Why don't you quit, Mark?" I suggested quietly, wishing he'd take my advice.

"It's not like this is the only company dying to have you," I reminded, trying to lighten the mood.

Every time I'd ask, Mark would reply, "Yes, but I can't wait any longer. I want to make up for the wedding we missed, and I want us to have a bigger home."

For ten straight years, Mark turned in every cent he earned. It was just one thousand bucks.

Mark used to vent to me about his slave-driving boss and his hopeless teammates.

But right now, looking at this office, all spotless and arranged as if staged for a photo, I couldn't help but scoff at myself.

I let out a bitter chuckle, mocking myself.

Guess I was just an idiot.

Each second crawled by, dragging the silence out.

I had died, and for the first time, Mark stared at his phone, waiting in vain for my reply.

The woman who'd been trailing him all morning had changed into a sharp business suit, her name tag reading Claire Bennett.

She reached out and tapped Mark on the shoulder, making him jump.

Mark lowered his voice and said coldly, "Remember, we're at work."

Claire smiled softly and tapped his palm with her fingers.

"I know, but aren't you curious where your wife disappeared to?" she said in a low voice.

Given Mark's expertise, finding out what I was doing would've been child's play for him.

But he still chose to trust Claire and followed her lead.

"Looks like she booked two tickets," Claire murmured, keeping her voice down. "From Avery City, straight to the Isles. Checking the schedule, she's probably heading out this very moment."

As soon as Claire finished talking, a dead silence swept through the office.

Mark ripped his badge from his neck, laughing coldly.

I was helplessly swept along with Mark, unable to break free.

I watched as he stormed into his office, his face stormy with anger, smashing everything in sight and turning the place into a complete mess.

Among all the chaos, the wedding photo of us remained untouched on his desk.

Mark stared at the photo on his desk of me smiling softly, his jaw set and teeth grinding, a twisted mix of anger and shock etched across his face.

I did not doubt that if I showed up here right now, he'd strangle me on the spot.

The only sound in the empty office was his furious shouting.

Mark sneered, "I knew it. She pretended she could stick it out with me through all the hard times. Look at her now. How long did it even last? I should've known a bitch like her would never change."

Mark tilted his head back, glaring at the ceiling.

With all the strength I could muster, I threw myself at our wedding photo, desperate to make it crack.

Before Mark's stunned eyes, the frame hit the ground and smashed to bits, disbelief and panic flashing across his face.

Mark crouched down in bewilderment, desperately trying to piece together the shattered frame.

But all he got for his trouble was shards of glass digging into his fingers, making him wince and topple backward onto the bright blue carpet.

Watching him look so ragged and pathetic, I couldn't help but chuckle to myself.

All my life, I loved him with everything I had.

And all my life, I kept my illness a secret from him.

But soon enough, Mark would know the truth.

The woman he couldn't stand was dead and gone.

The man Mark was always paranoid about and the one he thought I was secretly seeing turned out to be him.

Just hours ago, he was playing the lovesick fool with his own secretary.