Chapter 3
Far behind Eric, deep in the dim shadows beneath the trees, I noticed a girl standing there, looking kind of nervous and out of place.
Eric glanced down at me.
His gaze was so intense—it felt like a gentle night breeze, stirring ripples in my heart.
I couldn't help but think, 'If he really ends up marrying me, he'd be the unlucky one.'
I agreed to his condition, but only if he wired me 150 thousand for my grandma's medical bills.
The next day at an upscale restaurant, I happened to see Eric trying to get some big shot to sign a contract.
He was practically begging, his tone so earnest and desperate.
He was scraping together every cent he could, just desperate not to marry me.
Three days later, the full 150 thousand landed in my account—not a single yuan short.
I told my dad I wasn't going to marry into the Vaughn family, and I made sure the Vaughn elders knew too.
After that, Eric left the country.
I paid the medical bills, and my grandma started her chemotherapy treatment in the hospital.
She was stuck in a sterile isolation room, getting chemo doses so strong they could kill her, her immune system completely wiped out.
She was like a living corpse, just waiting for a new bone marrow transplant.
Just when the transplant was finally about to happen, the donor's side suddenly backed out.
The donor's family came out of nowhere, demanding 150,000 in cash.
They claimed it was to make sure the donor could get by for the rest of their life, even if their health got wrecked by the transplant.
Grandma was still trapped in that sterile isolation room—she didn't have much time left.
I was out of options, desperate and helpless. In the end, I tried reaching out to Eric again.
But he'd already vanished abroad, leaving me with a disconnected number. There was no way for me to reach him.
On the very last day, I went to my dad and told him I'd go ahead with the arranged marriage after all.
Grandma finally got her bone marrow transplant.
Just a few days later, the Vaughn family sent out hundreds of wedding invitations.
Eric, still overseas, ended up being the last to receive his own wedding invitation.
I can barely remember what he said when he finally returned to Crestville and came looking for me.
All I could recall was the raw, torn-up look on his face.
Rage, hatred, and despair—all tangled together.
He was truly devastated.
And behind him, Sophia was crying helplessly.
In the end, it was me who owed him.
I'd passed out in the snow and was unconscious for a long time.
I dreamed Eric found me and rushed me to the hospital.
He said, "We were married once—I can't just let you kick the bucket, can I?"
Everything in the dream was perfect.
Too bad I woke up still sprawled in the snow, frozen solid.
Dusk was creeping in, the whole world dead quiet except for the crunch under my boots.
Just me, looking like some kinda freak abandoned out there.
The pain in my head was unbearable, and it felt like every part of my body was being torn apart inside.
People always said late-stage brain cancer is hell on earth—guess I finally got it.
I lay there wrestling with myself, half-hoping someone would come looking.
Yeah, fat chance.
So I dragged myself up and made my way to the hospital.
I asked my doctor, Dominic Hale, "Hey, can you hook me up with a few extra bottles of painkillers?
"One bottle's gone in, like, two days, and trekking here all the time is a total drag."
Dominic shot me a look, his voice tight and not happy at all. "You really should cut back on the painkillers—you're supposed to be admitted by now."
I pulled a half-smile. "Hospital's not gonna fix this anyway. Plus, I've still gotta earn some cash somehow."
Dominic stared, eyebrows pulled tight. "You've come this far, and you're still worried about making money?"
I grinned. "Just saving up for a spot in the ground, you know? My own little patch for when it's time."
Ever since Grandma passed away, I just didn't feel like I had a home anymore.
Guess it's not such a crime to just want a spot to call my own when I'm gone, right?
Dominic had looked seriously annoyed, but now he just went silent.
He just watched me for a while, something weird in his eyes—almost like pity.
I'd seen that look way too many times, so I turned my head, avoiding his gaze.
After a lot of pleading, I finally managed to get a few more bottles of painkillers.
Just as I was leaving the hospital, my boss called, yelling, "Late again, huh? If you don't care about this job, then quit and get the hell out!"
I froze for a second, then glanced at the time on my phone.
That was when it hit me—I'd been out cold in the snow all night, and now it was almost nine in the morning.
I couldn't just quit yet.
Even in Crestville, real estate was so expensive that even the cheapest burial plot would bleed me dry—almost 30 grand, just to get a place in the ground.
I couldn't stand the thought of being buried far away in some place that wasn't home.
I kept apologizing, letting my boss yell himself out. When he finally calmed down, I rushed over to the office.
I hadn't even made it through the front doors before my boss was already there, blocking my way.
He barked, "Check your phone for the address. Take the contract and head over to the restaurant.
"Just stick with Mr. Grant through his barbecue breakfast, then don't come back until you've got that contract signed."
Jack Grant was from the South—his tolerance for spicy food was borderline insane. It was nothing for him to be having barbecue first thing in the morning.
My scalp tingled, nerves kicking in. "Sir, I've never negotiated a contract before—I'm afraid I'll screw it up."