The next day, Florence came with a photo album.

"Cyrus said that you've been bored here, so I brought something to keep you company." She pulled a chair next to my bed and opened the photo album.

The photos glided past my eyes, one by one.

Cyrus bought coffee for her daily. Her peaceful sleeping face. Two of them together in all sorts of poses.

My nails dug deeply into my palm. It hurt, but it was nothing compared to the stabbing pain in my heart.

"Cyrus sure knows how to take a good photo, right?" Florence chuckled innocently. "He said that I pose much better than you. I'm more natural at it."

I snatched the photo album and threw it against the wall. It hit against the wall with a thud. The photo album broke, and the photos fell scattered on the floor.

"Get out," I said through gritted teeth.

Florence seemed to be frightened. Her eyes instantly reddened as she trembled.

"Gayle Lynch, how long are you planning to keep throwing a tantrum like this?" This was the first time Cyrus yelled at me with my full name. Veins popped up on his forehead.

"What did Florence do wrong? She was just trying to cheer you up. Can't you be more understanding?"

"Cheer me up?" I chuckled as tears suddenly fell. "Cyrus, can't you see? Can't you see how upset I am? Can't you see all the needles and holes on my hand? Can't you see that I have lost so much weight? Right now, all you see is her, right?"

I pointed at Florence with a trembling finger. "She's young, she's mischievous, she's kind. Then, what about me? Cyrus, I'm your wife. We have been married for five years. I'm the sick one here."

The muscles on Cyrus' face twitched a little. He avoided my burning gaze and said stiffly, "Don't overthink this. Everything that I am doing now is to save you. What would happen to you without Florence's bone marrow? Can't ýou try to understand the pressure I am under?"

He bent down and picked up a few photos, carefully dusting them off.

"Gayle." He said, "I'm begging you. Please stop making a fuss. Be more understanding. For the surgery. For your life. Be better to Florence."

"For my life," I repeated quietly. "Alright. I understand."

He sighed in relief. Looking at the back of my hand, he looked apologetic. "I'm sorry. I have been neglecting you. Keep holding on. The surgery will come soon."

I looked at him and said calmly, "I'm tired. I want to rest."

"Alright. Call the nurse for anything. Or you can call me."

They left and closed the door behind them. The room was finally silent.

I pressed the bell, and a nurse soon entered.

"Could you please get me a pen and paper?"

Halfway through writing, the door opened once more. Cyrus entered. He saw me hide the pen and paper. He asked with a frown, "What were you writing?"

"Nothing. I was bored, so I was just doodling."

He didn't suspect anything. He walked over ot the bed and tucked the blanket around. After a moment of silence, he said, "Gayle, there's a favor I would like to ask you."

My heart skipped a bit. I turned to look at him.

"Florence had been staying in the hotel all this time. She has been sleeping badly." He chose his words carefully, avoiding my eyes. "The apartment on West Wing Road happens to be empty. I thought of letting her stay there for now."

"Cyrus." My voice was hoarse. I said with disbelief, "The apartment was where we lived and got married."

"I know." He sounded a little impatient. "But this is a special circumstance. Florence is running around for you. We can't just care for her. Besides, it's only temporary."

After our wedding, we moved into a mansion. Once, I jokingly said that we could rent out the apartment.

Back then, he had gotten furious, saying that the place where we spent so many weekends, which was filled with our memories, must never be touched by anyone else.

"What if I said no?" I tightened my grip on the blanket.

He furrowed his brows and looked at me reprimandingly. "Gayle, how did you become so unreasonable? This matter is decided. Just rest. Don't think too much about it."

He got up and left.

The husband who had found me a lifeline in my dying hour, his heart had uncontrollably tilted toward the young girl holding that lifeline.

For a moment, I couldn't tell. Was she my lifeline or the final straw that would crush me?

On the day of the surgery, Cyrus held my hand tightly, sweat beading on his forehead.

"Don't worry. I'll be waiting for you right outside the operating room."

The nurse handed him a consent form to sign.

Florence walked over to me and said with a smile, "Don't worry. I will properly rescue you."

She bent down and said into my ear, "After all, Cyrus had promised me that once you recover, he will take me to Ice Islands to see the aurora. He said that this is something that he owed me."

She added, "Oh, by the way. The day I shaved your head, Cyrus had been standing outside the door the entire time. I got him to wait. I told him that it was a surprise for you. He agreed to it."

Her breath brushed against my ear, sending a chill through my entire body.

Cyrus walked over. "What are you two talking about?"

Florence stood up straight. "Nothing. It's our secret."

He didn't press further. Instead, he looked at me seriously. "Gayle, I'll be waiting for you to come out."

The doors of the operating room opened before me… then slowly closed.

In the final second before my consciousness sank into darkness, the last thing that flashed through my mind was Cyrus over the past five years.

I had once casually mentioned how I like a cake from a certain bakery. He had queued up for three hours just to get them for me.

Whenever he returned from business trips, his suitcase was always stuffed with little gifts for me, sometimes local snacks, sometimes a delicate bookmark.

When I tried learning to cook, he finished that plate of charred, blackened food without changing expression, giving me a thumbs-up.

"What creative cooking! Keep it up next time!" Then, he would secretly gulp water down.

The day I was diagnosed with my illness, he held me, trembling harder than I was, his voice shaking, "Don't be afraid, Gayle. I'm here with you. We'll certainly get you treated. We will have many more five years together."

…

When I opened my eyes once more, I was back in the room.

The nurse saw me looking around, so she said, "You must be looking for Mr. Shields. He is with Ms. Grant at the moment."

I shut my eyes as tears fell onto my pillow. Luckily, I survived. To live was the most important thing.

As for the others, they didn't mean anything anymore.

My lawyer sent me the document according to my request.

When Cyrus came to visit me, it was late.

"Gayle, look. Your favorite sunflowers." He placed the bouquet by the nightstand. "There will be more sunshine in your life in the future."

I quietly looked at him. "Where were you just now?"

"Florence wasn't feeling too well." He cleared his throat and continued, "After all, she had just donated her bone marrow. It takes a toll on her. So, I stayed with her a little bit longer. Gayle, I'm sure you understand, right? She's your savior."

Savior.

How insulting.

"Hmm." I said gently, "You should be with her."

Cyrus sighed in relief. He walked over and tried to hold my hand, but I subtly hid my hand underneath the blanket.

He paused, assuming I was simply uncomfortable, and didn't think much of it.

"I knew you'd be understanding, Gayle." He sighed in relief, as if a great burden had just been lifted. "Once you recover, we must properly thank Florence. She has done so much for us."

"Yes." I quietly chimed in, "She has done a lot, so you should give her whatever she wants."

Cyrus looked at me. He wanted to say something, but he hesitated.

"Oh, by the way." I handed him the document folder and said calmly, "The nurse just gave me this. Some after-surgery documents that you need to sign. Please sign them."

Cyrus didn't suspect a thing, swiftly signing his name on the document.

"Gayle, there's an urgent project at work that needs me in Ice Islands. I didn't want to leave you but…"

"Just go," I interrupted him. "Work is important. The nurse can take care of me. I'll be fine."

I accepted the document folder and clutched it tightly in my hands.

He looked at me with a complicated gaze. "Are you sure you'll be alright alone?"

"Yes, I'm sure." I nodded and smiled at him. "Go. Come back soon."

"Take care. I'll be back as soon as I can." He kissed me on the forehead before saying, "I can stay a bit longer tonight with you. My flight is at nine tomorrow morning."

So was mine.

Cyrus woke up early the next day.

Before dawn, he deliberately took a detour to Florence's favorite breakfast cafe. She was a picky eater. Besides, she had just donated her bone marrow. She was weak, so she needed to be fed properly.

Carrying the breakfast back to the car, he suddenly remembered that Gayle used to love Mr. Beach's Sandwiches.

Even after she was ill, her appetite worsened, but the only thing she would miss and crave was those sandwiches.

He had promised her a few times that he was going to get it for her, but each time, he was always interrupted, either by Florence or being called away by the doctor, or simply forgetting.

At that moment, that thought just appeared in his mind suddenly.

Feeling a little annoyed, he furrowed his brows and took his phone out.

[Gayle, are you up? I suddenly remembered you want Mr. Beach's Sandwiches. Once I'm done here, I'll buy you some.]

He waited a moment, but no reply came. Perhaps she was not awake yet or hadn't had the chance to see her phone.

He threw his phone to the side passenger seat and started the car.

Florence had been waiting on the ground floor of her building for a long time. He took her luggage and handed her the warm food.

They arrived at the airport together. Suddenly, Cyrus stopped in his footsteps.

Not far ahead, by the floor-to-ceiling windows near the check-in counters, a familiar figure struck his mind like a bolt of lightning.

Gayle?

No. Impossible.

He quickly dismissed the thought. Gayle still had to be at the hospital. She was so weak she needed help to sit up.

He must have been hallucinating.

He shut his eyes tightly and opened them once more.

That figure had finished the check-in procedure and was heading toward security.

His heart strangely skipped a beat.

"What are you looking at?" Florence interrupted him.

He shook his head and replied, "Nothing. I must have imagined it."

On the flight to the Ice Islands, Florence fell asleep on his shoulders.

Looking out at the clouds, he couldn't help but think about the figure he saw at the airport, but he soon dismissed the thought.

He was sure that Gayle was still at the hospital waiting for him to bring her favorite sandwiches.

The sky over the Ice Islands hung low, the landscape barren yet magnificent. When the aurora appeared, Florence threw her arms around him in excitement.

He suddenly remembered that when he had just gotten married, he had planned to visit the Ice Islands with Gayle to make a wish under the auroras.

Later, he got busy with work. Their schedule could never fit. Then, later, Gayle fell sick. The promise was pushed back indefinitely.

Cyrus looked up at the sky, but his heart felt empty. He thought to himself that this was him gathering an experience. Once Gayle fully recovered, he was going to bring her here.

He took a photo and snapped a shot of the aurora.

He then went to our chat. The last message was still the one he sent that morning about how he was going to get her sandwiches.

Gayle didn't reply.

He tapped on his phone and sent the photo of the aurora.

[Gayle, I just finished work, so I came to see the aurora. Get well soon. I'll bring you here next time.]

The photo loaded for a while before sending.

But then, nothing else happened.

There was no immediate reply like before. No string of excited messages like [Wow!] or [Amazing! It's so dreamy! I would like to visit too!]

No other messages asking him to send more photos. No messages asking him if he was eating well or sleeping well. No messages asking him to stay safe and warm.

Nothing.

The chat was as silent as a grave.

He furrowed his brows. He then selected a few more photos and sent it over.

Still, silence.

Had her phone run out of battery? Or was she angry at him? Or did she find out that he was there with Florence?

Perhaps she was angry.

But Florence had saved her life. He had only hidden it from Gayle because he didn't want her to worry. After all, Gayle had become much more sensitive emotionally after she fell ill.

He was going to explain it all to her once he returned. He reckoned that as long as he spent more time with her and cheered her up, all would be fine.

Cyrus consoled himself, suppressing the sense of unease and annoyance in his heart.

But his mind kept returning to the figure at the airport. Was that really a coincidence?

He could no longer press that thought down.

Even by the end of the trip, when he was boarding the plane, Gayle still had not replied to any of his messages.

The thoughts he had suppressed grew stronger.

Once he landed, he didn't even bother sending Florence home. He headed straight to Mr. Beach's Sandwiches to get some sandwiches before rushing to the hospital.

The moment he pushed the door open, a female patient looked up at him and said, "Who are you?"