My stepbrother hated me.

He hated me and my mom for coming into his life, for ruining what he believed was his perfect family.

Whenever he saw me, his face would turn cold, and he would tell me how disgusting I was, asking cruelly when I was going to die.

In the end, I gave him what he wanted.

But then he regretted it.

He cried, begging me to come back, saying he never should have broken up with me and never should have treated me so cruelly.

But I was already dead.

Who was he putting on this show of affection for now?

When I found out I did not have much time left, it had been six years since Zac Xander and I broke up and six years since we became family.

I rushed home in a panic and went straight to his study.

I asked him if he was really going to marry Evelyn Gibson.

He sneered at me, saying I was delusional and could not stand to see him happy.

I stood there frozen, unable to muster a single word in response.

Looking into his cold eyes, I slowly realized that Zac had probably hated me all along.

Forcing a smile, I said, "But Evelyn isn’t the right match for you."

I had my own selfish reasons, but I also knew there would never be a good outcome for the two of us.

So, his future wife should not be someone like her, a socialite with a terrible reputation.

"And what about you, the daughter of a mistress? Are you supposed to be my perfect match?"

He glanced at me sideways, his eyes filled with disdain, as if he could see right through my thoughts.

Zac stood up, the light casting half his face in shadow. His hair fell loosely across his forehead, obscuring his expression.

"Emma, nothing in the Xander family has anything to do with you, an outsider."

"But I never..."

I tried weakly to explain that I did not care about the Xander family’s wealth.

But Zac did not listen. He got up and walked away without a second thought for my words.

"Brother..."

Zac, dressed sharply in a suit, suddenly turned around, his wolf-like eyes glaring at me.

"What did you just call me?"

When I first saw Zac at my mom’s new husband’s place, I knew why he had broken up with me.

But I thought we could get along peacefully, never imagining he had hated me all this time.

He allowed people at school to bully me without a second glance, standing by as rumors about me spread.

Yet I stubbornly refused to call him "brother," as if doing so would mean there was no future left for us.

"Brother, can we stop fighting, please?"

I pleaded, the pain in my chest becoming unbearable.

"Don’t call me brother! Emma, aren’t you disgusted with yourself?"

Hearing his harsh words, I started to feel dizzy.

I staggered and collapsed to the floor.

"Emma, what kind of act are you putting on this time? If you’re going to die, go do it somewhere else!"

He ignored me and walked out of the study without looking back.

I struggled to get up. I touched my nose, and looked at the blood on my hand, my gaze dimming.

But...

Zac, I was sick.

I was dying.

Couldn't you just care for me?

Could you just hold me, even for a moment?

……

I knelt on the floor, frantically trying to wipe away the bloodstains.

But as soon as I cleaned it up, bright red droplets fell again.

It felt like it would never stop, like no matter how much I wiped, it would never be clean.

I completely broke down.

Sitting on the floor, curled up into a ball, I cried silently.

I could not understand why fate was treating me like this.

When I thought I had found true love, I discovered that my ex-boyfriend was about to become my stepbrother.

When I wanted to stop loving Zac, I was diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer.

Dazed, I walked toward the door, only to find my mom waiting there, worry etched on her face.

She did not ask if I had argued with Zac. Instead, she looked at my face with concern and asked, "Where did the blood come from?"

I saw that familiar look of fear and panic in her eyes.

It was the same expression she had before she remarried, a reminder of the scars left by my biological father’s abuse.

Not wanting to worry her, I forced a smile and said I was just stressed out.

Only then did Mom breathe a sigh of relief and urge me to get some rest.

I pushed through the pain as I made my way back to my bedroom and lay down, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.

I swallowed a few painkillers dry and closed my eyes, hoping sleep would take over.

If I could just fall asleep, the pain would go away.

In my dreams, there was no cold-hearted Zac, and no mother always in tears.

In my half-conscious state, it felt like I had gone back to the sweetest times with Zac.

Back then, I still lived in the slums of the South District, and we were in the purest kind of love.

We walked aimlessly through the streets, fingers intertwined.

I did not mention how poor my family was, and he did not talk about his wealth.

We were just two kids from broken homes, huddling together for warmth.

He told me he would start from scratch and make his father look at him differently.

I said I wanted my mom to get divorced and leave my abusive dad behind.

When I said that, he, a boy not good with words, looked at me with such heartache.

He reached up and wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes, awkwardly pulled me into his arms, and gently patted my shoulder, promising.

"Emma, as long as I’m here, you’ll never have to be afraid again."

I did not know how to describe what I felt at that moment, only that my heart ached so much it felt like it might burst.

That day, Zac’s shirt was soaked through.

I thought we would be like that forever, but then, out of the blue, he broke up with me.

I refused to break up, my eyes red as I asked him why.

He simply said, "I don’t like you anymore, and that’s that."

I could not accept such a dismissive answer, so I kept trying to win him back.

I peeled chestnuts by hand for hours, my fingers bleeding, but I would not stop.

I stood in line for hours under the blazing sun for bubble tea from popular shops, and I did not mind one bit.

Soon, everyone at Huntington University knew about the shameless Emma, and they all placed bets on when we would get back together.

But, when Zac found out that my mom was going to marry his father, I knew we were never getting back together.

……

That sleep would have been perfect if the pain had not woken me up.

I clutched the right side of my abdomen in pain, pressing so hard that my hand was practically digging into my skin.

This usually eased the pain a little, but this time, it did not work.

With my face pale, I desperately wanted a glass of hot water.

But what I did not expect was to see Zac still sitting on the couch, even though he should have left the Xander house by now.

The living room lights were off, and I could barely make him out under the faint glow of the streetlamp outside.

He sat there quietly, leaning against the couch, a cigarette between his fingers, glowing red at the tip.

Hearing my movement, he shot me an irritated look.

"Emma, are you trying to scare me to death, sneaking around like a ghost in the middle of the night?"

"Sorry, I just wanted some water."

I bit my lip and turned my face away, not wanting him to see how pathetic I looked.

But it seemed like he had no intention of letting me off easily.

Zac stood up and walked in my direction. "The Xander family isn’t stingy. If you’re trying to play the pity card for sympathy, the only one who’d fall for it is my dad."

He frowned, looking at my frail body with disdain. "If you lose any more weight, you’ll barely weigh five pounds, including the urn."

I froze for a moment, then forced a weak smile.

His words had become a prophecy.

I really was dying.

"Yeah, I’m done trying to lose weight."

I stayed silent for a long time, and in the end, decided not to tell him the truth.

After all, he wished for my death so much.

I might as well give him one last surprise.

"Who cares if you lose weight or not? I’d be thrilled if you starved to death!"

Zac let out a cold snort and brushed past me. He then poured a glass of warm water, placing it on the table.

"Seeing you ruins my mood. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have come back!"

He seemed disgusted to be in the same room as me, leaving without even touching the water he had just poured.

I watched him grab his suit jacket and hurriedly walk out of the villa.

He treated me like an enemy, and avoided me as if I were a plague.

That was how it had been for six long years.

How had I managed to survive it?

As I stared at the rippling surface of the glass of water, I could not resist taking a small sip.

The warmth was familiar.

At that moment, my vision blurred.

Honestly, I did not even know myself anymore.

I could not figure out why, after our breakup, I kept chasing Zac like I always had.

Was it because he was a hand reaching into the swamp I was sinking in? Or someone I could confide in during difficult times?

Zac gave me one year of sweetness, and that got me through six years of bitterness.

I even wondered, if it weren’t for this sudden liver cancer, would I have eventually chosen to stop loving him?

But now that I was dying, I still wanted to keep loving him.

It was like a sweet illusion I had woven for myself.

On the road to the afterlife, at least I could proudly say that I once had the most genuine love.

……

The next time I saw Zac was at the gynecology department of the hospital.

I was accompanying my best friend, Anna York, for her prenatal checkup.

He was there with his fiancée, Evelyn.

I felt like a sewer rat, desperate to find a dark corner to hide in.

But my awkward posture made me look so pathetic that people were staring at me like I was crazy.

Some even went out of their way, taking a wide detour just to avoid me.

I did not care about the strange looks. My mind was filled with the image of Zac smiling tenderly at Evelyn.

That smile, filled with happiness, was something I had not seen on Zac’s face in a long time.

He was always cold, his voice distant.

I thought that was just how people became after starting work.

But I was wrong.

Zac was only like that with me.

I glanced up to see if he had left, and my eyes met Zac’s probing gaze.

His brows furrowed, and he quickly moved to another window.

He saw me, but he did not come over.

I had always been an awkward person.

I did not like asking for things directly, but when I had nothing, I would sulk on my own.

Even my own mom never noticed this about me, but during that one year of dating Zac, he spoiled me like a princess.

He indulged my stubbornness, giving me everything I did not have the courage to ask for.

At first, it was the dolls I had never had as a child, and later, it was dazzling dresses.

How could I ever forget the boy who once cared so much about me?

The pain started creeping in again.

When Anna finished her checkup, she saw me sitting on the bench and immediately started crying again, her heart breaking for me.

"Emma, you’ve got to hang in there. The baby still wants to call you Godmom."

I glanced enviously at her growing belly, then down at my own flat stomach with a heavy heart.

Once, there had been a life growing here too.

But it never had the chance to take root.

"Anna, don’t cry. Pregnant women shouldn’t cry."

I gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "I’ll stick around long enough to hear your baby call me Godmom."