Luke choked up slightly. He coldly scrutinized me from head to toe before letting out a chuckle. "Wendy, have you gotten addicted to faking your illness? Was he the one helping you forge your records?

"Quit messing around. I don't have time for your performances. You're not convincing at all. Who would check into the hospital with dyed hair and a pink cat-ear hat?"

He seemed convinced that I was just putting on an act to make Cassidy jealous. His smug smile was full of certainty as he warned, saying, "Don't use something as low as a divorce to get my attention. You're in no position to negotiate with me."

Matt's face flushed. He was about to speak up when I quickly intervened, saying, "Exactly. I'm faking it!"

Luke nodded in satisfaction. Then, he walked off with his arm wrapped around Cassidy. "Enough with the drama and go home. I'll get you a gift for our anniversary."

Baffled, Matt looked at me. "That was Luke? I'm not seeing things, right? Why did he treat you like that?"

Back in university, our relationship had been loud and proud. Naturally, everyone in our faculty knew of our story.

I shook my head and simply said, "Matt, I'm tired. I want to nap."

Before leaving, Matt gently ruffled my hair. "Alright."

…

When I got into the bed, I pulled the blanket over my head and cried my heart out.

I had to admit that Cassidy's words had genuinely hurt my heart.

She said I looked like a witch—she wasn't wrong. After all, people with late-stage liver cancer did get dull, yellowish skin.

I was totally shattered. I just wanted to grab her hair and give her a huge slap.

After I cried myself to sleep, I soon woke up again to go to the toilet. When I got out of bed, my legs were still quite weak. I touched my forehead—the temperature had gone up again.

Dazed and groggy, I wandered out toward the bathroom. As I turned a corner, I bumped into someone and collapsed onto the floor.

I had lost ten pounds after just a week of being hospitalized, and the fall had knocked the wind out of me. Even my wig shifted out of place.

As I adjusted it, I heard a trembling voice in front of me, saying, "Wendy…"

I looked up, and my eyes instantly reddened. "Sasha."

Sasha coldly stared at me. She wanted to ignore me, but she couldn't bring herself to walk away either. In the end, she said, "I didn't expect our reunion to be like this—with you looking like a mess."

I gave her a gentle smile. I didn't blame her—after all, I had said some pretty harsh words before I'd left the country.

"How have you been, Sasha?" I asked.

"Pretty good," she replied. Then, she jeered, "I thought you would live the life after ditching us poor peasants. Turns out… Hah!"

As I observed Sasha's expression, my tears instantly welled up. Aggrieved, I pouted and said, "Sasha, I haven't been doing well at all over these years. I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" I couldn't stop sobbing as I mumbled my apologies.

Startled, Sasha rushed to my side and helped me up. As she wiped away my tears, her own eyes turned red too. "Don't cry, Wendy. Slowly tell me everything."

Sasha sat beside me and tightly gripped my hand. Her eyes were completely reddened after hearing everything. She choked up and said, "Why didn't you tell me anything? You've suffered so much, Wendy. Does Luke know about all this?"

I shook my head.

"Didn't you two get married a long time ago? Has he been mistreating you?" she cautiously asked.

I forced a smile. "He hates me."

"Of course he would if you never explained anything. What you said that day was brutal—I was devastated, and he'd almost jumped off a building. You should have a good talk with him…"

I shook my head again. My eyes were already filled with tears, and my throat was so hoarse I could barely speak. "He's fallen in love with someone else. He doesn't love me anymore."

Sasha froze. Then, she hurried to wipe my tears. "What a playboy. We don't need a scumbag like him. Please don't cry, Wendy."

When I had just returned to the country, Luke had come to me and said he wanted to marry me. I genuinely thought that he loved me to the bone, so much that he could ignore all the cruel words I had once said.

I was about to explain the reason behind my actions. In fact, once my condition stabilized, I'd planned to spend the rest of my life loving him.

Yet, he'd kissed another woman right in front of me, and it hit me like a slap to the face.

Back then, my mouth was agape as tears uncontrollably streamed down my cheeks.

I wanted to tell him that I'd left because I was sick. I feared I'd die in front of him if I didn't get treatment. Hence, I had no other choice but to go abroad.

I had said some awful things before leaving—I shamed him for being poor, useless, and unworthy. I told him that he was incapable of giving me the life I wanted.

I'd purposely done that on purpose to make him hate me. After all, I was scared I would never make it back. I couldn't bear the thought of dying while he still loved me—I was afraid he would break down.

I figured that it was better to let him hate me. That way, if I died, he would only say, "Serves her right."

However, if I managed to make it back alive, I would cling to him, repeatedly begging for his forgiveness and constantly telling him that I loved him.

Luke had always had a soft heart, so I'd thought that he would certainly forgive me. After all, I was the one he loved most.

There was so much I wanted to say—I wanted to tell him that I still loved him and that I missed him terribly. I wanted to tell him that those days of treatment abroad were miserable, and I regretted not letting him come with me.

I had all these thoughts bottled up inside me. Yet, when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. I had become a joke, a laughing stock among the elites of Junoire.

They said I was a gold-digger who'd abandoned Luke when he had nothing. They said I had no dignity or shame when I clung to him once he got rich.

Everyone looked down on me, and even those trying to flatter him would also take a jab at me. It was as if the harder they insulted me, the more favor they would earn from him.

I was nothing but a pathetic loser leeching off of him. Perhaps the emotions had finally pushed me past the edge—I started eagerly pleasing him, driving away anyone who came near him.

It wasn't until my illness worsened and the doctor told me I only had a few more months to live that I finally woke up.

I realized that I was no match for those other women, and I didn't want Luke anymore.