Love is separated by mountains and seas, and long separation does not bring sorrow

Only when the room fell completely silent did she finally slip into a deep, exhausted sleep.

The next morning, a rough shake from William jolted Maria awake.

The moment her eyes opened, his voice cut through the haze. “Nothing to ask? It was your niece last night.”

Maria shook her head. “Pay me what you owe. Double it as compensation for distress.”

William scoffed, eyes glinting with provocation. “Can’t handle it already? This is just the beginning. If you don’t want to keep suffering, just come clean about what happened back then.”

His fingers rubbed together unconsciously—a telltale sign, Maria knew, of anxious anticipation.

A wave of bitterness rose in her throat.

She knew exactly what he was hoping for.

But she couldn’t say it.

Looking away, she shrugged with feigned indifference. “You’re overthinking. The walls here are paper-thin. I couldn’t sleep with all the noise. If you hired me just to make me listen, you might as well pay up and let me find another man.”

As she spoke, her hand rose to trace his jawline, her tone dripping with mock regret. “A woman in her thirties has needs, you know. It’s heartbreaking to be teased and left unsatisfied.”

Instantly, William’s ears flushed red—whether from anger or embarrassment, she couldn’t tell.

He slapped her hand away, furious. “Fine! You want money? Then clean up the mess next door!”

Yanking her to the doorway, he shoved her hard.

Maria stumbled forward into the room.

The sight that greeted her stole her breath—a punch of shock and aching sorrow.

The layout was identical. Every detail matched the dream home he’d promised her five years ago.

But now, this room meant for their future lay littered with the evidence of his nights with her niece.

The bed, the sofa, the balcony—every surface bore their traces.

Behind her, William watched her rigid back, a surge of vengeful satisfaction washing over him.

But before he could savor it, the ever-present bitterness drowned it out again.

Eyes red-rimmed, he flung a thick wad of cash onto the floor. “Clean this up!”

With a final, resounding slam, he shut the door.

Maria sniffed, fighting back tears, and bent to pick up the scattered bills.

One tear escaped, hitting the wooden floor with a silent splash.

“Auntie, why do you do this to yourself?” Diane’s voice cut in, sharp and sudden.

Maria stiffened, quickly schooling her expression back to neutrality as she looked up.

Diane stood wrapped in a towel, her skin marked with the blooming traces of recent passion.

The sight stung like a physical blow. Maria turned her head away. “Just earning a living. Aren’t you here for the money, too?”

Diane let out a cold laugh, striding forward. She pulled out another stack of bills and slapped it hard across Maria’s face.

“You think all women are as shameless as you? I’m here because I love him! If you abandoned him back then, why come back now?

“You took the last of the money and caused his father’s death! After that, William was destroyed. He hit rock bottom, tried to end it all—he even jumped off the North Bridge five times!

“And you? You vanished. Not a word. But now, just when he’s starting to get back on his feet, you show up? I’m begging you, just let him go. Leave him to me!”

Diane’s words drained the color from Maria’s freshly slapped cheek, leaving it pale.

Maria’s nails dug into her palms, the sharp pain grounding her as she wiped the blood from her lip.

“No.”

“Why not? You left!”

Maria spoke slowly, each word deliberate. “Because I was with him for thirteen years. I took care of him since he was ten.”

She could endure William’s cruelty toward her. But this stand-in, this replacement—what right did she have to posture and preen?

A stubborn, bone-deep pride refused to let her yield.

“But you killed his father! There’s a life between you now!” Diane pressed. “Unless… there’s something about that night you’re not telling?”

Maria spread her hands. “So what if I did? He still loves me, doesn’t he? Look at the pathetic way he fawns over me. What am I supposed to do?”

Suddenly, she noticed the woman who had just been hysterical was now smiling.

A sliver of unease wormed its way into Maria’s heart. Then, from behind her, William’s voice sounded.

“Maria. You really are heartless.”

Maria whirled around.

The man she’d once shielded with her whole being now stood there, looking utterly broken and desolate.

His eyes were bloodshot, his voice cracking. “In your eyes, am I just a dog you can whistle for and send away?”

Panic seized her completely. She took a step forward, desperate to explain, but William kicked her legs out from under her.

Her head cracked against the sharp corner of a table. Blood welled in her mouth, flowing freely.

Raw, overwhelming terror swallowed her whole. She was terrified—terrified he’d discover she was sick.

But William didn’t even glance at her. He took Diane’s hand and walked away.

“William, Auntie seems to be—”

“Leave her! A pathetic dog like me isn’t fit to care for his master!”

The self-loathing and hatred in his words were daggers, twisting in Maria’s chest with a sharp, aching pain.

She wanted to explain. But what could she possibly say?

All she could do was find a grim, twisted comfort in the thought:

At least he didn’t find out she was dying…

Maybe that was for the best.

Yes. For the best.