On the day of the fake divorce, I was diagnosed with a "terminal illness"

I comforted him with a few words and didn’t stay long.

Before leaving,

I quietly placed the diagnosis report on the bedside table.

I hoped that by the time I came back,

he would at least be mentally prepared.

After walking out of the medical care center,

I wandered aimlessly.

This world had never belonged to me.

I had stayed here for seven years.

Everything I gave

was Barry.

In the end,

I couldn’t even find a single friend

who had nothing to do with him.

Before leaving,

there seemed to be no one left

worth saying goodbye to.

I walked along the road,

all the way into the city.

As the painkillers wore off,

it felt as if an invisible hand inside my stomach

was tearing and kneading it over and over again.

The next second,

a mouthful of blood surged up my throat without warning.

I didn’t even have time to dodge.

I bent over,

and the blood splattered straight onto the ground.

My fingers trembling,

I rummaged through my bag for medicine.

Instinctively,

I stepped into a hotel by the roadside,

wanting to find some water to swallow the pills.

But the moment I looked up,

I froze.

This was the hotel

where Barry and I had gotten married.

The lobby was crowded.

Staff members hurried back and forth,

arms full of props, flowers, and documents,

constantly moving toward the outdoor wedding lawn.

I stood at the edge of the crowd.

Through the gaps,

I saw Barry standing at the very center.

And Keira.

The scene was so familiar

that my heart tightened painfully.

Almost the exact same setup.

Even the placement of the flowers and string lights

was no different from that year.

Only the bride

had changed.

Compliments from the staff never stopped.

Barry had his arm around Keira’s waist.

He lowered his head slightly,

his gaze gentle.

Keira looked up at him,

shyness impossible to hide on her face.

The next second,

he bent down and kissed her deeply, without restraint.

I stood outside the crowd,

as if I had been pressed into a belated old dream.

How long had it been?

How long since he last looked at me like that?

How long since we had linked arms intimately in public?

Back when we were first together,

he loved to tiptoe in a crowd

and steal a kiss from me.

Like a child who had gotten away with something.

Later…

When did everything start to change?

The person in his eyes

was no longer me.

A staff member carrying a folder passed by me,

then suddenly stopped.

“Aren’t you… Miss Chloe?”

His voice wasn’t loud,

but it was clear enough.

The next second,

he instinctively turned his head toward Barry,

his expression complicated.

Barry followed the sound.

The moment he saw me,

his brows knitted together.

Keira rushed over first

and shoved me hard.

I was too weak.

My body staggered,

and I nearly fell.

“Stop pretending to be weak. It’s useless!”

“My brother just doesn’t like you anymore!”

“You’re already divorced.

Why won’t you let us go?”

“We’re truly in love,

and you’re stalking us!”

“You act generous and affectionate on the surface,

but inside you’re filthy and twisted!”

Her voice was sharp and piercing.

More and more staff members gathered around.

At that moment,

the pain in my stomach exploded violently.

My vision began to blur.

Everything around me turned hazy.

Relying purely on instinct,

I hurriedly pulled out a painkiller

and shoved it straight into my mouth.

“Chloe.”

Barry finally spoke.

But his tone grew increasingly impatient.

“I’ve already told you.

I’m only doing this to cure her.”

“I promised you.

Once Keira gets better, we’ll remarry.”

“Now you see her sick,

so you pretend to be ill too,

running in front of me to take medicine.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit too deliberate?”

“You weren’t like this before.”

“You really disappoint me.”

The surrounding gazes cut like knives.