Part 1Love Was No Match for Convention

The day my doctor told me I was dying because I couldn't afford to keep getting treatment, James Zane finally came home with his fiancée. He'd made a name for himself by then, and he was bringing her back to meet his family.

When he saw me at the hospital, hobbling along on crutches and gasping for breath every few steps, he asked, "When you left me for $100,000 back then, did you ever think karma would catch up with you?"

I looked at the mocking curl of his lips and gave a quiet laugh. "If I apologize and tell you how sorry I am, will you give me another five hundred thousand?"

His expression changed instantly. The look in his eyes became impossible to read.

Before he left, he said, "I'm getting married next month."

I nodded. "Congratulations. But I won't be there."

After all, I probably wouldn't live to see next month.

* * *

Yvonne's POV

Less than ten minutes after James Zane left, a $100,000 transfer hit my personal account.

The sender was anonymous, but I knew exactly who it was.

I stared at the string of numbers for a long time, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. In the end, I used the money to pay my hospital bills, buying this battered body of mine a little more time.

Once the paperwork was done, I dragged myself home.

Calling it a home was generous. It was nothing more than a tiny rented studio, cramped and damp, with a single north-facing window that never saw sunlight. Much like my life.

Ever since the choice I'd made five years ago, it seemed light had disappeared from it for good.

I'd barely managed to lower myself onto the old couch, which creaked under my weight, when someone knocked on the door.

The knock was soft, almost hesitant.

I sighed. I could already guess who it was.

Struggling back to my feet, I made my way to the door on my crutches. James's mother, Margaret Zane, stood outside, holding a basket of fruits and wearing a strained smile.

"Yvonne, I came to see how you're doing."

As she spoke, her gaze unconsciously swept over my shabby apartment and the crutches in my hands.

Something complicated flickered through her eyes, so faint it was almost impossible to catch. Then it vanished beneath a calm that bordered on indifference.

I stepped aside to let her in.

"Mrs. Zane, what are you doing here?"

She entered and stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, as if she couldn't find anywhere suitable to sit. Only after I gestured toward the single wooden chair did she finally take a seat.

Her back remained perfectly straight, as though that posture alone could separate her from the run-down surroundings.

"Yvonne, I know I shouldn't have come to bother you." She took a deep breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. "But I really didn't have any other choice..."

I watched her calmly, waiting for the words I had already expected.

Seven years ago, she'd been exactly the same.

I'd just received my diagnosis, and it felt as though my entire world had collapsed when she stormed into my hospital room without a thought for anything else.

At the time, the Zane family was on the verge of bankruptcy after a disastrous investment. Everything they had was hanging by a thread.

The only thing that could save them was an injection of capital from the Shaw family, another business powerhouse.

There was just one condition: James had to marry Wendy Shaw, the family's only daughter.

James had been fighting bitterly with his family over me. That was when Margaret dropped to her knees in front of me.

"Yvonne, I'm begging you. Let James go! This is the Zane family's last chance. He can't only think about himself!

"I know you and James love each other, but you're an orphan, and... and now you're like this..."

Her eyes fell to the diagnosis in my hand.

She didn't finish the sentence, but there was no need.

"Please, Yvonne. Leave him. How much do you need for treatment? $100,000? $200,000? I'll give it to you!

"Take the money and find some reason to break up with him. Make him give up on you. Let him go abroad and save the Zane family. Please."

I'd only just found out I had cancer. My mind had gone blank, torn between overwhelming fear and the thought of losing James.

But as I watched Margaret sob in front of me, almost bowing her head to the floor, I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if James lost everything because of me and even dragged his entire family down with him.

It tore me apart.

I didn't take Margaret's money.

But I signed the agreement she'd prepared, the fake document stating that I'd accepted money in exchange for leaving James willingly.

Then I put on an act, making him believe I was greedy and had fallen for someone else.

I could still remember the look in James's eyes that day, filled with shock, rage, and betrayal.

He smashed the ceramic mug we'd made together, pointed at the door, and hoarsely told me to get out.

Not long afterward, he gave in to his family's arrangements and went abroad with Wendy Shaw.

And just like that, five years passed.