On My Funeral Day, My Husband Married His First Love

Dylan and I met when we were young. We promised each other forever during our naive years.

After graduation, I passionately joined him in starting a business.

I lived with him in a basement. I went with him to the vegetable wholesale market at 3 AM. I pushed a cart with him, selling burgers in cold winter.

Step by step, year after year.

I was with him as he went from a penniless boy to a nationwide restaurant tycoon with thousands of chain stores.

I stayed with him for ten years.

In the tenth year, he knelt before me with a dazzling diamond ring.

He shouted excitedly as if he wanted everyone to hear.

"Olivia, marry me!" he said.

He always said he would wait until he could give me a comfortable life before marrying me. He kept his word.

Even though I waited from my early twenties to my early thirties, I was still happy.

Even though the doctor said I was older, my health wasn't great. I was uncertain if I could conceive, but I wasn't too worried.

Dylan said he would take care of me like a daughter. It didn't matter if we had children or not.

I believed him.

But now?

The man who said he didn't care about children got another woman pregnant.

My heart felt like it was being stabbed, a pain a thousand times worse than the cancer inside me.