Honey, I Don't Love You Anymore！

Everyone thinks I'm just a stand-in for my elder sister Kaila, but I believe he truly loves me.

Until the wedding day, when Kaila came back.

When I was pregnant, he ignored me for days. Our next meeting was in the hospital. I was lying on a bed, so pale and thin I was almost unrecognizable.

He threw my medical records down and snapped, "Samantha Rivera, don't think you can manipulate me with the baby!"

He must have been in such a rush to get back to Kaila that he didn't even read the second page of the medical record.

Otherwise, why would he say that to a terminal cancer patient?

On my wedding night, I was alone in the hospital, reading a cold message from my husband Caden Jones.

[Kaila is feeling down, so I'll stay with her.]

I stayed awake all night, enduring the agony of the cancer cells eating away at me.

When the doctor came to check on me in the morning, I stared at the bright ceiling and asked, "Doctor, how long do I have?"

"If you terminate the pregnancy and start chemotherapy right away, there's still hope," he said.

I've heard "hope" too many times to believe in it anymore.

"Will I live to see my baby born?" I asked.

"It's hard to say."

Even the doctor was cautious with his optimism.

The hospital's smell made me nauseous, and I insisted on being discharged against the doctor's advice.

As I reached the entrance, I saw Caden. For a brief moment, I still held onto a shred of hope.

Maybe he had come for me.

"You need to move out these days."

He said, his voice filled with irritation. "Kaila is moving in, and she's not in a good place."

Hope always seemed to hurt the most.

I walked up to him, forcing a smile he once loved, and said, "I thought you came to check on the baby."

His expression softened briefly as he glanced at my still-flat stomach. "Your mother said the baby is fine. Is there something wrong?"

My mother treated Kaila like her own and saw me as a burden.

I smiled weakly and shook my head. "I'm going to stay at Echo's for a few days... How many days will be enough?"

"I'll notify you later."

We were married, but he used the word "notify."

The day after our wedding, I was told I couldn't go back to our wedding suite.

Turning around, I caught a glimpse of my pale face in the hospital’s mirrored wall, blurred and ghostly.

My face, which resembled Kaila’s by 80%, had been my greatest asset in persuading Caden to say he loved me repeatedly over the past five years.

Kaila and I were identical twins; the only difference was that she had an extra teardrop mole under her eye, making us indistinguishable to strangers.

For five years, I have been content being Kaila’s stand-in.

I would draw a teardrop mole at the corner of my right eye, just like hers.

I’ve grown accustomed to wearing gauzy dresses that I dislike.

I’ve accepted Caden calling out her name by mistake, even in bed.

I believed that if I could get used to all this, Caden would get used to me and eventually love me.

A metallic taste filled my mouth, and moments later, I was coughing up blood, the pain searing through me.

Half an hour later, facing the doctor, I declared emotionlessly that I wanted the baby removed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"You haven’t eaten yet, so it’s a good time for another checkup. You’re very weak right now, and the risk of abortion is high. You need to ask your husband to come with you."

I hadn’t had a single drop of water since the wedding the previous day.

On my way to get my blood drawn, a child bumped into me. The parents apologized quickly and hurried off with their child.

I stared blankly after the mother and daughter as they left. The baby inside me seemed to sense my turmoil and kicked hard.

I deserted the battlefield.

Out of my selfish love, I wanted to give my child hope.