My Wife Was Camping While Her Brother Died

"Ryan!"

Ryan's fiancée had already collapsed in grief. She fainted from crying and was helped away by the nurses.

Dr. Parker and several nurses came in to comfort me, offering their condolences.

I sat alone in the ward, helpless and broken, completely submerged in sorrow.

Just yesterday, Ryan had been telling me how nervous he was about the engagement party. We had even made plans to take the whole family on a trip this weekend.

I couldn't bring myself to accept that he was gone.

It was only after a long while, when a nurse called my name, that I forced myself to pull together what little strength I had left.

I had meant to call Rebecca to discuss Ryan's funeral arrangements. But instead, I saw a post Chase had made on social media half an hour earlier.

In the photo, the two of them were leaning close together, admiring the scenery. They looked intimate and carefree.

At that moment, my heart turned completely cold toward Rebecca.

I stood there numbly, watching as the nurses wheeled Ryan's body away, silently wishing him a long life in his next life.

Then I sent Rebecca a single message: [We're getting a divorce.]

…

There was no reply.

Not until the next morning did her message finally arrive.

[Agreed.]

The indifference was exactly what I expected, yet it was still bitterly ironic.

Ryan's body was still in the morgue, and Rebecca was his only legal next of kin.

I was about to message her to ask how to handle the arrangements when her call came through first.

"Is Ryan with you?" she asked. "Today is his engagement party. Don't be late."

Her tone was firm and unquestioning, as if nothing had happened yesterday. She probably couldn't get through to Ryan this morning and only then remembered to call me.

Even after I sent her the notice of death, she refused to believe a word I said.

Thinking of that, I suddenly felt exhausted to the core.

Just as I was about to hang up, Rebecca added, "I won't be down the mountain so soon. You go to the party first and help receive the guests."

The engagement party had originally been scheduled for three in the afternoon.

She had taken the day off work, yet she still wanted to stay out camping longer—so much so that she was willing to be late even for her own brother's engagement party.

I said nothing and listened in silence.

"Are you even listening?" she snapped impatiently. "Remember to remind Ryan. He hasn't been answering my calls—don't tell me he overslept."

I hadn't eaten in over a day and night. My throat was so hoarse I could barely speak. My body and mind were completely drained.

With what little strength I had left, I replied, "Come to the hospital and tell him yourself."

Then I sent her the location and turned off my phone.

After resting briefly, I began sorting through Ryan's belongings in the ward.

Inside his backpack were the engagement rings and the speech he had prepared for the party.

A day that should have been filled with joy had turned into a tragedy.

Ryan was three years younger than Rebecca. The two of them had relied on each other since childhood.

When their parents died in a car accident, it was Ryan who shielded Rebecca with his body and took the fatal blow meant for her.

That year was the darkest time of Rebecca's life—both parents gone, her younger brother gravely injured and unconscious.

Later, Ryan barely survived.

From then on, she decided to study medicine so she could give him the best treatment possible.

And yet now, for the sake of camping with Chase, she refused to believe that anything had happened to her own brother—and personally destroyed his last chance to live.

The thought made me break down in tears once more.

I mourned the unfairness of Ryan's short life, and I felt chilled to the bone by Rebecca's cruelty.

My gaze fell on the phone Ryan had left on the table.

Remembering what he had said before he died, I picked it up and unlocked it.