Three Months to Live, One Husband to Lose

4: 4

4

In an instant, every eye turned toward me.

"They look so much alike, obviously sisters!"

"The older one's dressed head to toe in designer, that bag alone costs a fortune. What's the harm in helping her own sister?"

They pointed and murmured, as if I were some monster beyond redemption.

My head hurt too much to find a single word of defense.

In the end, it was Barnaby who couldn't stand it, calling security to break up the crowd.

He spoke with heavy sincerity.

"Clara, I'm asking you. Be kind to Mia."

Clara.

Mia.

Only now did I finally hear the difference between the two.

I looked at him, expecting tears, but my eyes had gone dry.

Seeing me stay still, Barnaby added, "Mia and I, there's really nothing between us."

I shook my head and pressed a finger to his chest.

"No. Your heart has moved."

His chest jerked sharply.

"Clara, you're beyond hope!"

Shame flared into anger, and Barnaby took Clara's hand and led her toward the inpatient wing.

The two of them walked close together, closer than I had ever clung to Barnaby.

Suddenly I laughed. "You're right. I really am beyond hope..."

When the doctor learned my condition, he frowned and warned me.

"You can keep taking the painkillers, but the most important thing is you must not fall. Otherwise..."

He didn't finish, but we both understood.

Walking out of the hospital, I found Barnaby waiting outside the front doors.

It was raining, and Barnaby tilted the umbrella toward my head.

"Mia was worried. She insisted on waiting for you."

But the moment Mia stepped out of the car, Barnaby rushed to help her.

The umbrella over my head was gone.

The rain soaked through, like needles stitching back and forth across my scalp.

Barnaby turned and pressed me. "Come on!"

Mia tugged guiltily at Barnaby's sleeve.

"Barnaby, I'm sorry, I booked the couple's seats again out of habit. You go with my sister. I'll just grab something at the noodle shop."

Out of habit.

Couple's seats.

Two words that should have cut me landed on frosted glass instead.

No sound when they struck, no shadow I could see.

Barnaby thought for exactly one second, then said to me, "Take a cab home yourself."

Home?

Where was my home?

"Wait, I don't remember where I live..."

Fear surged up, and on instinct I grabbed hold of both Barnaby and Mia.

Then Mia let out a scream. "Sister, why are you choking me?"

Barnaby shoved me away.

Caught off guard, I slipped and fell, my head striking the edge of the planter.

Blood streaked half my face red.

Cold sweat and rain pressed down on me in wave after wave, and the pain kept me from getting up.

And yet, like when I was a child, I brainwashed myself—

It doesn't hurt.

It doesn't hurt...

Don't cry.

Crying only makes people hate you more...

Barnaby looked down at me coldly.

"The same trick you pulled as a kid, still using it now? You love hurting yourself for attention this much, are you sick in the head?"

Mia said softly, "Barnaby, I'm a little hungry."

Barnaby had been about to leave, but he glanced back at me uneasily, then shoved the umbrella into Mia's hands.

"Let me get her bandaged up first."

Those hands reached toward me, and I shrank back in terror.

"Who are you?"

When he saw the real revulsion in my eyes, Barnaby's disgust froze, and his shout burst out like a sudden clap of thunder.

"Clara, how long are you going to keep this act up?"

Just then my attending physician passed by on his way off shift, saw my head covered in blood, and was so alarmed he dropped his glass teacup and shattered it.

"I told you, you can't fall! Family, go to the ER and get someone, now!"