Chapter 3

My mind snapped back to reality. I got home and lay down on the bed.

It was the home that used to belong to Andrew and me. By now, I had lost count of how many nights I had spent here all by myself.

I couldn't catch even a trace of Andrew's scent in the air anymore. It felt like being trapped in a vacuum, where suffocating pressure made every breath harder to draw.

Echoing in my ears were the words the system had left me with all those years ago. "Since you're so sure he'll love you forever, then rely on his love to survive for the rest of your life."

I didn't turn on the lights. Trying my best to tune out the physical agony, I stared into the endless darkness around me.

After a long while, I couldn't help but whisper to myself, "Lucas, do you regret it now?"

Regret came too late anyway. I truly brought this on myself.

Drenched in cold sweat, I gasped for air. As my head went fuzzy from the heavy pressure in my chest, something suddenly crossed my mind.

I fumbled my way up and stepped into the study in the dark.

It hit me that Andrew had dropped by around noon. He had stayed in the study for a bit and left behind an overcoat he had taken off.

Pushing the door open, I caught a faint, familiar scent almost immediately. Like a fish dying on dry land finally reaching water, a sudden surge of strength returned to me. I stumbled over to the couch and wrapped my arms around the overcoat.

I lay down on the couch and soon drifted off into a deep sleep.

My dreams were fragmented and tangled. The clearest scene was from nine years ago.

Andrew was 26, his face streaked with blood, clinging tightly to 21-year-old Lucas. His voice was panicked yet gentle. "Luca, don't leave."

I stayed, but he left.

My face felt cold. It seemed the window had been left open, letting the cold air blow across my skin.

It felt as though I had slept for an eternity until late into the night, when I vaguely picked up the sound of the front door opening.

Too exhausted to open my eyes, I still knew exactly who it was from the heavy footsteps.

The footsteps drew near along with his familiar scent, and a warm palm pressed against my forehead.

Andrew's voice sounded close to my ear, laced with confusion. "Why did you sleep here?"

When he tried to pull the overcoat from my arms, I held on a bit tighter in my half-asleep haze.

Andrew seemed to lift me up and carry me outside. He let out a light laugh near my ear. "Clinging to a coat like this, yet you were saying you wanted to break up earlier?"

Everything felt fuzzy. For a second, I couldn't tell where the dream ended and reality began.

Andrew seemed to lay me down on the bed and slide in right beside me. Wrapping his arms around me, his voice drifted into my ear, slightly muffled. "Stop throwing a fit.

"Give it a few years. Once I have a kid with her, I'll leave her and be with you."

But I didn't even have a next year left.

The bracelet that tracked my lifespan had turned almost completely dark, like a withered, dead flower. At most, I only had a month or two left to live.

Andrew's voice kept droning on by my ear. "Once the baby is born, I'll break things off with Olivia. I know this hurts you, so when that time comes, whatever you say goes."

A couple of offhand promises.

It was as if the future child—a living, breathing human being—didn't matter at all to him, not even worth a second thought. Just like sleeping with another woman was nothing to him either.

My mind gradually cleared. Taking a deep breath, I recovered a bit of my strength. I reached out and pushed him away.

I got out of bed and said flatly, "I'm moving out first thing in the morning."

Andrew sat up in bed, his face dark with anger. His patience was running paper-thin these days, and one word from me was all it took to blow his fuse. "Have you had enough of this fit yet?

"What on earth do you want from me?"

I paid no attention to him, heading straight into the walk-in closet to grab a suitcase and pack my clothes.

I had initially planned to stay the night, since finding a place late at night was tough, but now I couldn't stand staying here a second longer.

Andrew got out of bed and caught up to me in a few quick strides. He snatched the suitcase right out of my hands and slammed it straight to the floor.

The sudden, loud bang made me instinctively take a step back.

He glared at me, beside himself with rage. "Ethan is in poor health, so keeping the Sterling bloodline alive falls entirely on me. Why can't you wrap your head around a simple thing like this?

"If you weren't an orphan with no parents to answer to, wouldn't you have to worry about these things too?

"Tell me, what more do you want?"

It felt like a knife twisting in my heart, yet I kept my composure, staring at him calmly.

Only after he had vented all his rage and smashed everything he wanted to smash did I finally ask him, "Is it really that Ethan can't carry on the Sterling line, or that you don't want to?"