Miles was once the golden child of the Conservatory.

For my sake, he beat up a powerful and influential teacher and was expelled. He became a dropout, despised by everyone.

While I graduated smoothly and became a music producer, the stark contrast gradually broke him down.

I endured his endless torment without complaint or regret. The moment I received my cancer diagnosis, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

...

I heard a rustling sound from the bedroom. Quickly, I stuffed the report into my bag.

Miles came towards me, drying his damp hair. I bowed my head, pretending to be focused on choosing the vegetables.

He let out a light chuckle and came up behind me, pressing his body against mine, nuzzling my cheek intimately.

"Where did you go this morning?"

"I woke up and couldn't find you."

I swallowed hard and pushed the report further into the depths of my bag. I didn't want him to find it, yet part of me hoped he would notice something was wrong.

Taking a deep breath, I said the words I'd been rehearsing for so long.

"I felt dizzy and went to the hospital for a check-up."

He ignored the tremor in my voice and chuckled lightly, his tone full of malice.

"You have a tough constitution. That old man tortured you for an entire afternoon back then and you were fine."

"Don't waste money."

My hand paused, and the rims of my eyes turned red instantly. He grabbed my hand and tossed the vegetables aside.

Before I could react, he had already pulled me to the bedroom door. I weakly resisted his stormy kisses.

"The meal isn't ready yet," I whispered as his fangs grazed my neck, his breath heavy.

"I want something else first."

I closed my eyes and stopped resisting. He, as always, disregarded my feelings and vented his frustrations without restraint. The pain squeezed tears from the corners of my eyes.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned down to kiss the tears away.

"You look prettier when you cry."

"Your tears always inspire me."

I hazily recalled the most painful night, his eyes filled with a beastly light, his actions rough and forceful. After that night, his mind was flooded with inspiration.

He excitedly shared his discoveries with me, yet I couldn't find a trace of tenderness in his words.

As his heavy breathing subsided, my memories abruptly ended.

He sat up in bed and reached for a cigarette.

"When you've rested enough, go make dinner."

Dragging my broken body, I got up and went to the bathroom. The steam from the hot water engulfed me as tears flowed.

After washing up, I walked out to find him leaning against the door, smirking at me. I wiped the corners of my eyes.

"I'm going to make dinner."

He stopped me and pulled out a necklace from his pocket.

"Picked it up on a whim."

I stared at the sparkling stone, momentarily dazed. Over the years, with Miles's temper growing increasingly volatile, any warm moments between us had become rare, and gifts were unheard of.

He walked behind me and thoughtfully put the necklace on. The chain wrapped tightly around my neck, just like the past and guilt that has bound my soul for years.

Maybe after I die, I'll finally be free?

Miles dragged me to the mirror and asked, "Does it look good?"

I didn't want him to be upset, so I forced a smile.

"Looks good."

He stood straight and patted my shoulder.

"I need to write music."

"Go on out."

Last night, he had been too rough; every step I took caused intense pain to tear through me.

As the door locked, I heard him snicker softly, "What are you pretending for? It's not like it's the first time."

"No need to put on that act and hint for me to be tender."

I forced a smile and swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat, rubbing the sore spots to ease the pain as much as possible.

I wanted to say it was fine, no need to be tender with me. After all, I would die soon.

Miles, the days I have left with you are numbered. The debt I owe you will soon be paid off.

I arranged to meet my best friend, Tessa Hartman, in the early evening when I went out to buy groceries. The once mischievous girl had become a well-known journalist.

I handed her the USB drive and the report. She frowned as she flipped through the documents, struggling to contain her anger.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let him get away with this,” she assured me.

I glanced at the man’s face on the report and couldn’t help but gag. Tessa was startled and quickly came to my side, wiping the corner of my mouth.

Clutching her hands, I pleaded, “Please make sure his crimes are exposed.”

Tears welled up in Tessa’s eyes as she nodded. “I will. But you have to take care of yourself before then, okay?”

I shook my head weakly. “It’s too late... I just want to do something for him one last time.”

She clenched her fists in anger and pounded a nearby table. “You’ve done more than enough for him over the years!”

Through tears, I looked up at her. “Because of me, Miles’s life has been ruined.”

She was about to argue further, but my phone rang, interrupting her. I answered, trying to steady myself.

“Miles, what’s up?”

Miles’s tone was light yet laced with a hint of menace. “Does it really take that long to buy groceries? You’ve been out a lot lately.”

I feigned a casual tone. “Are you that clingy? I’ll be home soon.”

His voice turned icy and commanding. “Come back immediately. The house still needs cleaning!”

After hanging up, Tessa was even more furious than I was, ready to fight Miles if he were in front of her. I calmed her down and hurried home.

The floor was littered with trash; everything in the house was shattered and destroyed. I knew this was his way of throwing a tantrum.

Miles played his game as he ordered me to clean up and cook. After washing the dishes in the kitchen, I started sweeping the floor.

An empty paper roll accidentally rolled into the study. I stood at the doorway, hesitating. The study symbolized the tension between Miles and me. He kept his true self in that closed room, allowing no intrusion.

Reluctantly, I bent down, trying to retrieve the paper roll. Suddenly, Miles’s cold voice echoed above me.

“I’ve told you many times not to come into the study. Are you testing my limits?”

I quickly stood up, stammering, “No, it was just the paper roll…”

Like a madman, he grabbed the back of my neck, unlocking the door with a key while shouting, “You want to see? Then see all you want!”

Terrified, I closed my eyes. He forcefully gripped my chin, making me face the chaos within the study. I trembled, tears streaming down uncontrollably. His ragged breathing slowly calmed.

In a shaky voice, I said, “I really didn’t…”

He paused, then pulled me into a tight embrace. My scalding tears felt like they might burn a hole in his shirt. He held me tightly, struggling to speak.

“I’m sorry... but please, don’t come into the study again.”

The next day, with puffy red eyes, I received the concerned attention of my colleagues. They all knew about my illness, so any good news was immediately shared with me.

I stared at the invitation on my desk, and my long-dormant heart began pounding again. This was the invitation from a foreign music company that I had worked hard to secure for Miles. My colleagues were genuinely happy for me.

I warmly embraced them and dashed towards home without a second thought. As I reached the front door, I paused, trying to calm my racing heart. Just as I was about to pull out my key, a woman emerged from inside. The overwhelming scent of her perfume nearly suffocated me.

I stood there, stunned, like a lost child. The woman touched my face and teased, "He's doing well." The perfume slowly dissipated, but my thoughts were consumed. Doing well? Was Miles satisfied with her? It seemed that without me, anyone else in his life would do just fine.

Lifting legs that felt like they were weighed down with lead, I made my way to the living room. Miles was there, shirtless, wrapped in a bathrobe. I thought I would confront him, but after hesitating for a long while, I couldn't utter a single word.

Miles, unfazed, continued playing his game. "Go make dinner, and don't always make those bland dishes. It's good to change things up once in a while." The words, seemingly innocuous, struck me deeply, as if he were comparing me to another woman. I should have realized it sooner. As he had said, eating the same dish every day can get tiresome. In his heart, I was never irreplaceable.

Knowing I was going to die, what was meant to be a celebration with the invitation had now become our dignified farewell. I pulled out the invitation and handed it to him. Miles glared at me, annoyed I had blocked his view of the game, but his expression changed as he read the invitation from the foreign music company.

With a trembling hand, he took the invitation, asking in surprise, "What's this?" I responded with a long-lost smile, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. "They've taken an interest in your song. They've invited you to discuss it further."

In disbelief, Miles rubbed his eyes and read the invitation over and over again. Watching his tear-filled eyes, I saw the proud and carefree boy from my memories. He ran to me, stumbling over his words, "Did you submit this for me?"

I nodded with a smile, handing him his plane ticket. "Go, this is a great opportunity." Miles took the ticket and asked, "Aren't you coming with me?" I shoved my own ticket to the bottom of my bag. "This is your chance for discussions, it wouldn't be appropriate for me to go."

He didn't question it, just looked joyfully at the ticket. "Great." He then suddenly pulled me into a tight embrace, as if trying to merge me into his flesh and blood. Listening to his rapid heartbeat, I closed my eyes. His voice, choked with emotion, said, "Naomi, I will bring back good news. We won't have to live this hard life anymore."

I turned the "future" over and over in my mind. Future? I'm dying, how can we have a future? I nestled closer to his chest, hiding my falling tears. "When you come back, I'll give you a present."

Miles broke into a teary smile, nodding vigorously. "Alright, you wait for me." He bent down and kissed my hair. I tilted my head to catch his light kiss, treating it as our final farewell, immersing myself in the fleeting love.

Let me be selfish this last time. After all, he will no longer be mine.