The force pushed Jethro's head to the side.

Nancy Sweeney couldn't hold back. She yelled, "Why did you hit him?"

She lunged at me, but Jethro held her back. "Calm down."

Turning back to me, he pleaded, "Let me explain. This is Nancy. We grew up together in an orphanage. She is like a sister to me. She's getting a divorce because of domestic abuse, and I hope you'll give me time to help her and her son. I understand you're upset, but I can't just ignore her."

He defended himself desperately, as though I were a barrier between them. He never once considered that today was our wedding day.

I still remembered how thrilled he'd been when I told him my dad had finally approved our marriage. He'd swept me into his arms, saying, "Valerie, I can finally marry you. I've waited seven years for this."

I had rested my head on his chest and cried.

What he didn't know was why my dad had agreed. I'd revealed two secrets: I was pregnant, and I had terminal stomach cancer.

When I came back to reality, he was still rambling, "What happened today was my fault. I promise, I'll make it up to you and throw you the best wedding."

"Okay," I said with a hollow laugh, cutting him off.

He paused, then held me tightly in his arms. "I knew you'd understand. You've never made things hard for me."

...

A month earlier, I'd collapsed at work and was rushed to the hospital.

The doctor's words hit me like a thunderbolt. "Ms. Roy, you're one month pregnant. But you also have terminal stomach cancer. I recommend terminating the pregnancy and starting treatment immediately."

I couldn't believe it. But when I saw the two diagnosis reports, reality hit me.

I hadn't misheard. I was dying.

I sat in the hospital corridor for hours, grappling with the news. I made two decisions.

The first one was to take a chance and keep the baby. That was Jethro's greatest wish. He longed for a family and didn't want to be alone anymore.

The second one was to come clean with my dad and tell him I wanted to marry Jethro. It had always been my dream.

Dane Roy, nearly sixty, cried like a child at the news. "No. How can I lose you?"

Tears streamed down my face, but I didn't know how to comfort him. No one could accept the idea of burying their child.

But then, I realized that even though I was dying, the first person I thought of was Jethro.

...

Jethro worked as a lawyer at a law firm, earning a modest salary.

Out of a sense of duty from their shared past in the orphanage, he spent two-thirds of his income to renting a comfortable apartment for Nancy and her son.

"Glen is so attached to me. He grabs my arm and refuses to let me go," he told me excitedly after helping them move into their new home.

He wiped sweat from his brow and came over to hug me. "I can't wait for us to have a child, too."

I smiled, pushing him away playfully. "You've already got one on the way. In here."

He froze, his eyes lighting up. "Really? Are you serious?"

Jethro's joy was genuine. He wanted this child as much as I did.

If this had been before, I would've told him the truth about the pregnancy and hidden my illness until after the birth. But now, I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Just kidding," I said.

His smile faded, but he masked his disappointment, wrapping his arms around me. His head rested on my shoulder as he said, "That's okay. We will have one someday."

I smiled without saying anything.

That night, a high fever and searing pain gripped me. Jethro slept soundly beside me, oblivious. Once, he'd wake at the slightest change in my breathing, asking if I was okay. Now, he didn't even stir.

When the pain became unbearable, I threw off the blankets, rushed to the bathroom, and locked the door.

Jethro's phone rang outside. I heard him answer, his voice urgent. "I'm coming. Don't cry."

He got out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door. "Honey, are you okay? Take some medicine if your stomach hurts. Glen has got a fever, so I'm heading to check on him. Don't wait up."

He left in a hurry.

I collapsed on the floor, sweat-soaked and pale, pain crashing over me in waves. My hair clung to my pale face.

I curled up and clenched my teeth as my tears pooled on the tile. "Jethro, it hurts so much. Why did you leave me?"

...

Years ago, in the sophomore year, Dane found out I was dating Jethro.

He was furious, yelling at me for the first time in his life. "Wake up! You two aren't even in the same league. You're not allowed to contact him again."

I argued with him and got grounded.

Jethro pleaded outside our house for a day and a night until he collapsed. We carried him inside and laid him flat.

When he came to, he said weakly, "Mr. Roy, I really like Valerie. I'll treat her right, even if it costs me everything."

Dane sighed without saying anything, but after that day, he didn't try to stop me and Jethro from being together anymore.

After graduation, Jethro got a job at a law firm.

I still remembered the first month he got paid. He made $8,000 but bought me a necklace that cost $7,500.

"You're such a fool! Return it!" I scolded him, upset that he had spent so much.

That was poor financial management.

He laughed it off, fastening the necklace around my neck. "We've been together for four years, and I haven't bought you a proper gift. You deserve the best. Now that I'm earning, I'll give you even more."

His eyes brimmed with tears. "I'll work hard to give you the life you deserve. I'll never let you down."

True to his words, he bought a house with a mortgage and paid off a car in full in just two years. All of this was thanks to his tireless work and his goal to build a home.

...

Jethro didn't come home that night.

Early the next morning, I got a message from Jethro.

[Glen got sick and was hospitalized, so I stayed. Went straight to the law firm today. Will make you some delicacies when I get back from work.]

I read the message but didn't reply.

Ever since Nancy and Glen showed up, I had been wondering if I was overreacting.

Nancy and he came from the same orphanage. Before, Nancy had worked day and night for him, to the point where she broke down from exhaustion, but Jethro insisted that they were like family, nothing more.

"Valerie, you are my one and only," he had said. "Don't you know my heart after all these years?"

It was true. Seven years of love wasn't something to dismiss lightly.

Dane once asked why I only insisted on a wedding with Jethro, instead of a marriage certificate. I held back my tears and confessed, "I'm dying. A marriage certificate won't change that. I don't want him to grieve forever. I want him to move on and be happy."

That was a lie.

I was terrified of death and even more afraid that Jethro would forget me.

...

As my mind wandered, I drifted off to sleep on the couch.

The smell of food woke me up. When I opened my eyes, everything was dark except for the kitchen.

I looked down at the thin blanket covering me and realized Jethro must have put it on me.

Just then, he came out with the freshly made ribs, smiling. "You're up. Wash your hands, and let's eat."

"Why keep the lights off?" I stood up, heading to the table.

Jethro, still in his apron, set down the food. "You were sleeping soundly. I didn't want to wake you up."

I suddenly remembered a winter night when he had worked late.

I woke up in the middle of the night and saw no one next to me, so I called him.

He didn't pick up, and I panicked, rushing to look for him without putting on a coat. But when I opened the door, I saw him leaning against the wall, asleep.

He stirred at the noise, slowly standing up and rubbing his stiff back. "Forgot my keys and didn't want to wake you up. So, I waited and somehow fell asleep out here."

Later, I learned that he had seen me struggling to sleep at night because of work. He didn't want to disturb my sleep.

Now, as I stared at the food, my appetite vanished.

According to the doctor, stomach cancer often left patients too weak to eat, leading to severe malnutrition.

"Dig in before it gets cold," Jethro urged, packing some ribs into a container.

I blinked. "Are you going somewhere?"

"Nancy is still at the hospital taking care of Glen," he explained without stopping his movements. "They haven't eaten, so I'm taking them some food."

I gripped my fork and knife. Pain flooded my heart.

Unable to hold back, I looked at his weary face and asked, "Is there really nothing but sibling love between you and Nancy?"

He hadn't rested for a full day and night.

He paused, frowning. "How many times do I have to say it before you believe me? You're being unreasonable."

He grabbed the container and started heading for the door.

I trembled, tears instantly flooding my eyes. "Jethro!"

He stopped but didn't turn around.

I asked, "Do you have to go?"

Nancy wasn't a child. She could order takeout for Glen and herself or eat at the restaurants outside the hospital.

Maybe Jethro didn't even realize it, but ever since Nancy with her son showed up, his attention had completely shifted to them.