I'm diagnosed with late-stage cancer after undergoing a pre-employment medical checkup. My husband says the medication for my condition is expensive. He also says it can only relieve my pain, not treat the cause.

I only have a year to live.

Upon my husband's pleading, I agree to do an IVF.

I endure the pain and put myself through torture to leave him with a child. However, I overhear him saying the child growing inside me isn't mine—it's his and his lover's.

He's the one who wants me dead!

Just because Hector Doyle's true love refused to conceive a child, he used my body to bear their child.

"It should be an honor for her to bear our child," he said. "At least she's of some use. So what if she dies? My client happened to give me a spot at a cemetery. We can just pick the best spot for her, right?"

It turned out that cancer was never going to take my life—but that bastard was.

…

Tension hung thick in the operating room after what Hector said to the doctor.

Wiping the sweat off me, the midwife sighed while shaking her head. The obstetric surgeon, who had been encouraging me, suddenly fell into a trance, as if reminded of something ghastly.

Everyone looked grim, though I remained unfazed.

As someone with end-stage cancer, I saw no point in saving my life.

I forced a smile and wheezed. "Let's carry on. I can still do it…"

Enraged, the surgical assistant next to me suddenly hurled the roll of bandage to the floor.

"That man is a bastard down to his bones. To think that he's actually a renowned nutritionist! I've never seen a man choosing to save the baby instead of the mother in surgery!"

Silence enveloped the operating room again.

A few seconds later, someone sighed.

"That's their own business. They've been married for ten years, after all, so perhaps they're going through some trouble right now."

The surgical assistant, Katie Hobbs, teared up in a fit of rage.

"And what trouble could possibly be worth more than a life?" she cried out. "Look at him. He doesn't even care about his wife!"

She was about to continue when her words suddenly lodged in her throat, her gaze darting toward the door.

The door to the operating room swung open.

I heard footsteps approaching, followed by a voice that sent shivers down my spine.

"Hurry up. The patient is exhausted to the point of collapse."

Everyone immediately lowered their gazes, not daring to meet Ian Jennings' eyes.

He purposely stood in my line of view and said, "Don't worry, I'm with you. Just do your best, and I'll protect both you and the baby."

Tears streamed down my cheeks at this moment.

Everyone was cheering me on, while he let me grab his hand as support.

After a cry finally sounded in the air, I relaxed, and my consciousness began to fade. My eyes were closed, but I could still vaguely hear the sounds around me.

Ian seemed to be checking something.

"She clearly said she has cancer, but the test results don't show anything. Could it have been a misdiagnosis?" he said, sounding doubtful. "If she doesn't have cancer, how could her body have deteriorated like this?"

The people around me raised more questions.

"Come on," someone said. "Her husband is Dr. Doyle, the most popular nutritionist online."

"I'd believe anyone else would be innutrient, but not her," another person chimed in.

"I heard that Dr. Doyle buys loads of top-notch supplements."

As I drifted into unconsciousness, I groggily realized that my body had weakened beyond the point of healing.

I did take quite a lot of supplements during my pregnancy. But the more I took, the more weight I lost, and the more tired I felt. I even had to rest after walking just a few steps.

At first, I thought it was the cancer that had worn my body down. But now, it seemed like taking too many supplements wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Hector probably knew that I was nothing but an empty shell. So when he had to decide whether to save the baby or me, he chose to abandon me.

My consciousness soon faded into darkness.

When I woke up again, I was startled by the people arguing at the door. It was Hector and Ian.

"Ian, do you have no shame? You've had ulterior motives toward her since school," Hector bellowed. "How could you go in while she was giving birth? Do you even have common sense?"

"I'm a doctor, and she's my patient," Ian replied calmly. "In critical moments, my job is to save lives. You're also somewhat of a doctor. Don't you understand the principle of benevolence in medicine?"

His voice was tinged with rage as he continued, "I'm not like you, who only cares about the baby. How unfortunate it is for Leah to be with you!"

Ian's words lingered in my mind.

My husband, who had been married to me for ten years, caused a scene at the entrance of my ward—all because my attending doctor, Ian, refused to let him hold the baby.

"What's wrong with taking a look at my child?" Hector yelled. "Yara's waiting to hold the baby. I heard babies resemble the first person who holds them."

I didn't hear Ian's response.

Just then, Hector barged into my room and demanded, "Get up now and take the baby back home. Do you think we're that well off? Do you really think you can afford a VIP room?"

Indeed, we barely scraped by. But I didn't have the strength to get up.

Despite noticing my pallor, Hector continued, "Yara wants to see the baby. Let the doctor know, will you?"

I widened my eyes. It hadn't even been a day since the baby was born, and she was being tended by the nurses now. Why should I let Hector's intern handle my baby? Was Yara someone important?

Before I could ask, Hector saw the nurse enter with a few bottles of medicine—meant to maintain my health—and promptly stopped her at the door.

"Who gave her the medicine? Give me the prescription," he snarled. "With that worn-down body of hers, she doesn't need such expensive medicine. Cancel this and that."

The nurse was unyielding. "The patient needs these medications. She must receive them as soon as possible!"

Shoving her out of my ward, Hector snapped, "I'm a nutritionist. You should listen to me!"

He slammed the door shut in her face.

His phone suddenly rang at this time. Glancing at it, he immediately skulked out of my room to answer the call.

After what felt like ages—and as I was about to fall asleep—he came back.

He sighed and threw my jacket on my face. "My colleagues are going to come by later. Look at how disgusting you are. You're going to do nothing but humiliate me!"

Apparently, my appearance was barely presentable enough for others to see.

I tried to sit up and get dressed, but I hardly had the strength to.

Seeing this, Hector buried my head under the sheets. He knew I was awake; he just wanted to humiliate me.

"With your looks, it's better for you to just stay hidden," he spat. "Marrying you was a mistake."

I lay under the sheets, unmoving. Entering this marriage was a grave mistake for both of us.

The colleagues he'd mentioned were actually his students. After one of them left, the air shifted.

Through the gap between the sheets, I saw Yara Quigley wrap her arms around Hector's neck. She didn't seem to realize that I was awake.

"Babe, are they going to let me see our baby or not?" she asked. "I want to see whether she resembles me or you."

My heart skipped a beat. So, the baby that had been in my womb was their child.

My blood ran cold. As I watched the two describe their future together, I couldn't stop trembling.

Gazing at Yara, Hector crooned, "Darling, I'll take the baby with us after she's discharged. The three of us will stay in our new house—far away from this ugly pig."

He talked about me as though I was already dead, showing not even a hint of respect for me.

Yara giggled. "Oh, you know me so well! I'm still so young, after all. If my parents found out that I got pregnant before marriage, I'd be doomed."

She chanced a glance at me and continued, "Besides, childbirth does a lot of damage to the body. Look at her—she literally aged ten years after giving birth. I wouldn't want that!

"By the way, I told my parents that I'm getting engaged soon. So, you and her…"

Hector glanced back at me and replied, "Don't worry. Although it's a shame that she's still alive, I won't be with her anymore. You're the only one for me."

Entwined in each other's arms, they ambled out of my ward.

Why were they so cruel to me? I did nothing wrong!

Angry and aggrieved, I struggled up from the bed, craving an explanation. However, my head suddenly swam, and I collapsed back on the bed again. Having lost too much strength and blood, I hardly had the energy to deal with those two morons.

Hector never came back again.

Recalling their conversation earlier, I whisked out my phone and checked my bank account. The moment I saw my balance, I froze.

My savings over the years—the money Hector had claimed to save for my cancer treatment—were all gone.

As I went through the transactions, I discovered that he not only bought his mistress a house but also a car and loads of designer goods.

That was when I knew giving him my heart had been a mistake.

Being married to Hector for ten years meant enduring ten years of suffering. After graduating, we struggled to make a living, earning every penny through earnest, hard work.

It took him a long time to get through probation, and during those two years, I never bought any new clothes.

At that time, we were living in a shabby rental but were determined to buy a house together. When we finally saved enough to afford a two-bedroom apartment in the city, he transferred all the money to his mistress.

My lips trembled, and I felt my chest tightening.

Just as I curled up on the bed clutching my chest, Ian walked in.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Why was she only given glucose?"

A young nurse came in and replied meekly, "Dr. Doyle cancelled the prescription."

Infuriated, Ian stormed out of the room. I knew he wouldn't allow Hector to hurt me, but I summoned all my strength to grab his wrist.

"Don't go, Ian." I wheezed. "I don't have any money…"

I truly had no money left to pay for any more treatment, and Hector would never spend another cent on me.

As soon as I finished speaking, my vision turned black. I lost consciousness again.