I had a diary. If I wrote down a wish on my birthday, it would come true within a week. But every wish came with a price.

On my 18th birthday, I wrote with a heart full of hope: [I wish to be Dominik's girlfriend.]

A decade later, on my 28th birthday, as my body weakened and my soul hollowed, I opened that same diary one final time. My hand shook, but not with anticipation. With the last of my strength, I wrote: [I wish for Dominik to be with me in hell.]

***

Three months before my 28th birthday, I was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer.

That very same day, I found out that the man I had loved for eight years was at the hospital, gently supporting his mistress during a pregnancy checkup.

I stood in the sterile corridor, my back pressed against the cold, white wall outside the doctor's office. My hands trembled as I dialed Dominik's number. The faint smell of antiseptic stung my nose as my heartbeat thundered in my ears.

Through the small glass window, I saw him standing next to Bella, his hand resting protectively on her lower back. When he glanced at his phone and saw my name, he declined the call without hesitation.

The sharp rejection cut deeper than I expected. Tears blurred my vision, spilling onto my cheeks despite my efforts to hold them back. With stubborn determination, I pressed the call button again and again, each unanswered ring tightening the knot in my chest.

On the sixth attempt, he finally picked up. His voice was calm, almost too casual. "Honey, I'm in a meeting. I'll hang up first, okay?"

"Dominik..." My voice cracked, weak and unsteady.

Perhaps he heard something in my tone, because his voice softened, tinged with concern. "Hey, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

Through the window, I watched Bella frown, her lips forming a pout as she leaned closer to him. Dominik gently tucked her hair behind her ear, whispering something that made her smile. My stomach churned, my chest tightening with each passing second. Eight years of marriage replayed in my mind like a cruel joke.

"Honey, I still have things to do. I'll hang up now," he said, his tone brisk.

The line went dead. My legs felt unsteady as I stumbled away, the hospital walls closing in around me. My phone buzzed in my hand—messages lighting up the screen one after another.

It was Bella.

The first was an attachment: a prenatal exam report with her name on it.

The second made my blood run cold: [Nadia, are you still clinging to Dominik? You're pathetic!]

And the third shattered what was left of my composure: [Don't you feel ashamed, for being his wife but can't give him kids?! Know your place!]

My hands shook uncontrollably. The screen blurred as fresh tears flooded my eyes. My knees buckled and I grabbed onto the wall for support, but it wasn't enough. I crumpled to the floor, my sobs echoing faintly in the empty corridor.

When I finally dragged myself home, my body felt like a shell. I forced down a few bites of noodles, though each mouthful tasted like ash.

***

At 1 a.m., Dominik slipped into bed as quietly as he could. The faint rustle of sheets roused me from my fitful sleep—or at least, I pretended it did.

"Why are you back so late?" I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

He pressed a kiss to my earlobe, his tone laced with apology. "Did I wake you? Sorry, work's been busy."

I turned to face him, reaching out to touch his face in the darkness. My fingers grazed his cheek and for a fleeting moment, I wished I could believe the words he said. "Dominik, let's have kids."

His hand found mine, squeezing gently. The same answer he had given me for the past five years fell from his lips. "I don't want to put you through the hardship of labor. Besides, isn't it nice with just the two of us? I don't want to fight with some kids for my wife's attention."

Once, those words had warmed my heart. Now, they felt like a dagger twisted deeper with every syllable. My chest ached, the pain sharp and unrelenting. In the darkness, I turned away and quietly wiped my tears on the pillowcase.

"Honey, have you lost weight?" he asked suddenly, his hand wrapping around my wrist.

For a moment, I hesitated. Should I feel relief that he had finally noticed? Or should I mourn that it had taken 20 pounds and a diagnosis for him to realize?

I took a shaky breath, turning my hand to clasp his. "Dominik, I'm sick. It's—"

Before I could finish, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. Bella's name glowed on the screen.

I froze, watching as he sat up abruptly, his attention fixed entirely on the phone.

"Something important came up at work," he said, already getting out of bed. "I need to go."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room in suffocating silence. I curled into myself, clutching my knees as the pain radiated through my body.

***

The next day, I spent an hour layering makeup to mask my pale complexion. By the time Bella arrived at the café, I had already drained two cups of coffee.

She sauntered in, her hand resting on her belly like it was a crown. Her smile was smug, a glimmer of triumph in her eyes. "I'm pretty far along now," she said, sliding into the chair across from me. "Going out isn't as easy as it used to, so I hope you don't mind if I'm a little late."

I met her gaze, my voice steady, though my nails dug into my palms beneath the table. "If it's that hard for you to go out, you should just rest at home. Why did you ask to see me?"

Bella's smug smile faltered slightly when I didn't react, but her confidence returned quickly, as if fueled by a thought she couldn't wait to share. She leaned forward, her fingers resting lightly on her swollen belly, her voice dripping with faux innocence.

"Ah, sorry about last night," she said sweetly. "I actually wanted Dominik to stay home with you, but just after he left, my stomach started acting up." She stroked her belly gently, her lips curving into a triumphant grin. "Seems like the baby was missing his daddy. I hope it wasn't too cold for you to sleep alone."

I shifted in my seat, leaning lazily against the backrest to ease the sharp, stabbing pain in my stomach. Crossing my arms, I offered her a slow, deliberate smile.

"Bella, it must be exhausting to be a mistress," I said, my tone light but cutting.

Her expression twisted into something ugly, her smile vanishing in an instant. "Nadia, you're the mistress!" she spat, her voice trembling with fury. "If I hadn't gone abroad back then, you would never have had the chance to marry him!"

I arched an eyebrow, unfazed by her outburst. "And whose fault was it that you left? I didn't send you away."

Her face darkened, her jaw tightening. Memories flashed in my mind—how Bella had fled the moment her family's business went bankrupt, leaving Dominik behind to fend for himself.

"Shut up!" she snapped, her hands clenching into fists. "Even if you married him and supported him during his hardest years—so what?!" She leaned forward, her voice dripping with venom. "He still refused to have kids with you! From the beginning, he's only ever loved me!"

My nails bit into my palms, the pain grounding me as the ache in my stomach worsened. I kept my face carefully neutral, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Why are you even here, Bella?" I asked, my voice calm despite the storm raging inside me. "Not just to gloat, I hope. Shouldn't you be urging Dominik to divorce me instead?" I leaned in slightly, my gaze locked on hers. "After all, as long as we're married, you're nothing more than his mistress. And the baby you're carrying... well, it's just a bastard."

Her face contorted with rage, her composure slipping entirely. Bella's repeated provocations only confirmed what I already suspected—she hadn't convinced Dominik to divorce me yet. And he didn't do so not because he loved me, but because he didn't dare.

The room was tense, the air heavy with unspoken words. Suddenly, Bella grabbed her glass of water and flung its contents at me. The cold liquid hit my face, dripping down onto my blouse, but I stayed still, unmoving.

At that exact moment, Dominik walked in.

"Dominik!" Bella cried, her voice trembling as she collapsed onto the floor, clutching her belly like she was in agony. Tears streamed down her face as she sobbed dramatically. "She pushed me! My stomach hurts... What if something happens to our baby?!"

I stayed seated, the water trickling from my face onto the floor in steady drops. My gaze remained fixed on Dominik, who rushed to Bella's side without hesitation, his voice low and soothing as he helped her up.

"She called me a mistress!" Bella wailed, her voice shrill. "She said our baby is a bastard!"

My fingers curled into fists under the table, but I kept my face calm, even as my heart ached.

"Enough," Dominik said sharply, cutting off her tirade. "Go home now."

Bella's eyes widened in disbelief, but before she could protest, he turned to me. His brows furrowed as he took in my pale complexion and trembling frame. "Honey, are you okay? You look really pale."

I let out a short, bitter laugh. "Dominik, unless you're blind, you should've seen her throw water on me."

He stared at me, his face unreadable, the silence between us stretching uncomfortably long.

"Let's talk at home," he said finally, his tone measured.

I felt my resolve cracking under the weight of his gaze. Still, I forced myself to smile, even as bitterness welled up inside me. Without a word, I reached for the jug of water on the table and tipped it over Bella's head.

Water cascaded down her hair and onto her clothes, her shrieks filling the café as I stood up. My movements were slow and deliberate, the pain in my stomach nearly doubling me over, but I refused to show it.

If Dominik wouldn't defend my dignity, I would do it myself.

As I walked away, Bella's screams followed me. "Can't you see, Dominik?! She's bullying me! You have to divorce her!"

***

That evening, Dominik came home earlier than usual. I was hunched over the toilet, my body wracked with violent heaves as blood stained the water.

The doctor had told me to admit myself to the hospital immediately, but I hadn't gone. Seeing the blood swirling in the bowl, I realized it didn't matter. I probably didn't have much time left.

I was so lost in my thoughts, drowning in the weight of everything, that I didn't even notice him standing in the doorway.

It wasn't until I heard Dominik's anxious voice behind me that I realized he was home. "Honey, are you okay?"

His footsteps hurried to the bathroom door and when his gaze fell on the blood swirling in the toilet, his face paled. Without waiting for an answer, he crouched beside me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, his touch firm but trembling. "I'm taking you to the hospital now."

I pushed him away, though the movement drained what little strength I had. My voice came out soft but steady. "No, I don't need to go."

"Nadia," he pleaded, his voice cracking, "I was wrong. I can explain everything about Bella. But please, let's go to the hospital first."

I met his gaze, searching for even a flicker of sincerity in the pain etched into his features. But all I saw was urgency—whether for me or his guilt, I couldn't tell.

Using the sink for support, I wobbled to my feet, refusing his outstretched hand. My voice was calm, emotionless. "It's fine. It's just gastritis."

Dominik exhaled a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Ah, okay. If you say so."

But the reprieve was short-lived. As I shuffled toward the bedroom, his footsteps followed me and his voice grew soft with forced reason. "Nadia, I know Bella was out of line, but she's pregnant and going through a lot right now. Her emotions are all over the place. Please try to understand."

I climbed into bed, leaning weakly against the headboard. My hands gripped the blanket tightly, hiding the tremble in my fingers.

Dominik hovered near the edge of the bed, misinterpreting my silence as encouragement to continue. "Look, she was scared. I don't think you meant to frighten her, but you shouldn't have done that to her."

My lips curved into a bitter smile as I lifted my gaze to meet his. "Dominik, am I supposed to sympathize with the mistress carrying my husband's child?" My voice was steady, but each word carried a weight that pressed on the room like a heavy fog.

He flinched. "Nadia, I didn't mean—"

I cut him off, my tone sharper now. "Or do you, like Bella, believe I'm the one who took her place as your wife? That I'm actually the mistress here?"

Dominik ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering in his eyes. "That's not what I meant," he muttered, his voice strained.

Perhaps realizing how pale I looked, his expression softened. He stepped closer, taking my hand in his and lowered his voice. "Nadia, no one can replace you. I won't divorce you."

He kissed the back of my hand, his lips lingering as though to reassure me. "I know you're upset about Bella's pregnancy, but I did this for your sake. I didn't want you to suffer through the pain of labor."

I stared at him, my chest tightening as he rubbed my hand gently. "You've done so much for me," he continued. "How could I bear to put you through that kind of hardship?"

I let out a dry laugh, the sound hollow in the quiet room. "But you can bear to let Bella go through it?"

Dominik hesitated, then tightened his grip on my fingers. "Bella's in better health than you," he said, his tone almost matter-of-fact. "Her pregnancy has been relatively easy so far. Don't worry. From now on, I'll make sure she doesn't bother you again. You'll always be my wife. Bella and her child will never come between us."

His gaze softened further, his eyes filled with the same tenderness he had shown me in the early days of our relationship. But the warmth that once comforted me now felt hollow, a performance I could no longer believe.

I pulled my hand away from his grasp, the chill of detachment settling over me. Reaching into the bedside drawer, I retrieved a stack of papers and held them out.

"Dominik, I can't accept you having a mistress and a child with another woman. Let's get a divorce."

His reaction was immediate, his eyes flashing red with fury. He snatched the papers from my hand, his knuckles whitening as he tore them into shreds. The pieces fluttered to the floor like ashes, his breath heavy and uneven, as though he were the one who had been betrayed.

***

The next morning, I awoke to the smell of something familiar wafting from the kitchen. When I stepped into the hallway, I saw Dominik standing at the stove, an apron tied neatly around his waist. The sight should have been comforting, but instead, it felt surreal.

He turned toward me, his face lighting up with a warm smile. "Nadia, come have breakfast."

I froze, unable to reconcile his gentle demeanor with the man who had torn the divorce papers apart only hours before. He walked over, pulling me into his arms, his familiar scent enveloping me.

"Nadia, please don't be upset," he murmured, his lips brushing against my hair. "The weather's been lovely lately. How does a staycation at the beach sound?"

His words, so tender and sweet, made my throat tighten. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes and I swallowed hard to keep them from falling. I nodded wordlessly, too exhausted to resist.

Dominik's face lit up with joy and he kissed my forehead. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll take care of everything."

***

On the day of the trip, I forced myself to endure the nausea and weakness that gripped my body. The sharp pain in my stomach came and went, but I swallowed it down, determined to make it through.

Even though I vomited several times along the way, Dominik stayed by my side, his hand firm on my back as he murmured words of comfort. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to believe that everything might be okay.

I had made up my mind. After this trip, I would tell him the truth about my illness.

Even if the chances were slim, I would fight for treatment. I couldn't deny it—I was too weak to face this alone. I still needed him.

***

The rhythmic sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore lulled me into a deep sleep. But that night, in the small, mosquito-netted bungalow, I awoke to an unsettling emptiness.

My hand instinctively reached out, searching for the warmth of his body beside me. But instead of finding him, my fingers met only the cool, rumpled sheets.

Dominik was gone.