My Son Hated My Hugs, Then Cried Over My Cold Body

In the end, I didn't type a single word. I sent no reply.

There was nothing left to explain. And I no longer wanted to listen.

Just then, the system's chime sounded once more in my mind:【Task nearing completion. Host, prepare to pass on.】

Hearing it, something inside me finally loosened, as if a weight had lifted.

I didn't answer any of Nathan's messages. I simply reached up and pressed the power button, sealing myself off from every last intrusion of the outside world.

The nurses wheeled my bed, easing me slowly toward the operating room.

The lead surgeon was my mentor, and the whole way there he kept trying to comfort me:

"Belinda, don't be afraid. Our entire team is going to give it everything we have. We will bring you back from that table."

I managed a weak smile and gave a small shake of my head.

"Don't put so much pressure on yourselves. Just let it run its course."

Life and death had been settled long ago. There was no use fighting it.

Lying on the table, the lights glaring overhead, I felt the anesthetic slide slowly into my veins, my awareness blurring at the edges.

Before my eyes, the past flickered past like a spinning lantern.

I remembered the first time I met Nathan. I had planned it for so long, confessed first, and even when he was cold and distant, I refused to give up.

I remembered ignoring his mysophobia, throwing my arms around him again and again,

watching that look of helpless disgust on his face, and quietly, secretly, treasuring it.

I remembered after our son was born, how the boy was taught to scorn me, to refuse my touch,

and how I bore that loneliness alone, forcing myself to act like none of it mattered.

I remembered the countless deep nights I spent guarding that empty mansion,

waiting for him to come home, only to get word that he was with Felicity instead.

I remembered the crash site, how without a moment's hesitation he gave the only chance of survival to someone else,

watching me sink into hopelessness without a single flicker of pity.

Scene after scene, one after another, all that accumulated disappointment finally came to its end in this moment.

In the last second before my mind sank under for good, every sensation slipped away from me, and my heartbeat eased into stillness.

Outside the operating room, the surgeon's eyes were rimmed red. Facing the empty corridor, he shook his head slowly and choked out under his breath:

"I'm sorry. We did everything we could……"

The lights in the operating room went dark, announcing my death.

Meanwhile, downstairs, the proposal was still going on.

Nathan was about to slide the diamond ring onto Felicity's finger when a panic surged through his chest out of nowhere,

as if something of immense importance had vanished completely, leaving a dull, aching pressure behind.

His brow knotted tight. He hadn't the slightest will to stay, and ignoring Felicity's startled attempt to stop him,"What are you doing?!"

he shoved through the crowd and broke into a run toward the hospital wing.

The dread inside him grew stronger and stronger, his steps turning frantic.

He tore all the way to my room and threw the door open.

"Belinda, you've been ignoring my messages this whole time. What exactly are you trying to——"

The words cut off, lodging in his throat, refusing to come.

He stared at the empty bed, at the grave, grieving faces of the staff beside it,

and froze on the spot, every drop of blood in him seeming to ice over in that instant, his pupils shrinking, his face full of disbelief.

In that moment, he was seized by a terror beyond anything he could name, a panic he had never known sweeping through his entire body.