Part 1The Silent Cry

To get revenge on me, Lucas Reed often brought different women home to spend the night.

On nights like these, I would always make various noises.

Either coughing violently all night.

Or getting up every few minutes to drink water.

Always creating all kinds of noise.

But this didn't affect him at all.

The master bedroom door was always tightly closed.

He probably thought I was deliberately making these noises, hoping he would come to see me.

Actually, it wasn't.

I was terminally ill, just physically uncomfortable.

However, in his view, I was a born liar with endless schemes.

Later, the hospital finally announced that I had one month left, time to arrange my affairs.

That day.

He was leaning against the headboard smoking.

I gave him the divorce papers.

He sneered, "Done with all your tricks, now using divorce to get my attention?"

He wouldn't divorce.

The day his "white moonlight" (first love) went abroad.

He said, since I wanted to marry him so much, he would fulfill my wish, but he would make me realize that the most regrettable thing in my life was marrying him.

Indeed, I regretted it.

But it was all too late.

I gave him the other diagnosis report in my hand.

"Let's divorce. You don't want to carry the title of a widower, do you?"

He took the diagnosis report stating I had only one month left, and his hands instantly trembled.

He stood up abruptly.

"Samantha Jones, damn it, is this your way of fighting me?"

He panicked.

He forcibly dragged me downstairs and stuffed me into the car.

"Cure her, I command you to cure her."

Was he feeling heartache?

But all this was too late, too late.

* * *

Evening.

I ate dinner alone.

Went into the bathroom.

Dawdled in the bathroom for over an hour before coming out wrapped in a bathrobe.

Just now in the bathtub.

I actually passed out.

In front of the mirror, I tied the bathrobe and touched my sharp chin.

Any thinner, and I would be unsightly.

I came out of the bathroom.

The main door opened.

Lucas Reed brought a girl back.

Eyes met.

The girl was scared.

"Mr. Reed, she is..."

Lucas wrapped his arm around the girl's waist expressionlessly, "Ignore her, go wait in my room..."

The girl glanced at me and went obediently.

Only Lucas and I were left in the living room.

The air seemed to have settled.

Inside the bathrobe, my hands clenched tightly.

Lips trembling.

"Couldn't you take her somewhere else?"

He leaned against the wine cabinet, a smile on his lips, "Somewhere else? You wouldn't see it somewhere else, wouldn't the effect of disgusting you be greatly discounted?"

At that moment.

My heart ached so much I could hardly breathe.

"Whatever."

Finally, I just dropped this sentence, went back to my bedroom, and closed the door.

Sounds came from the master bedroom.

I covered my ears.

But the noise still reached my ears.

I dug out my headphones and put them on.

Finally could block out those decadent sounds.

But in this dark night.

The pain seeping into my cells clamored.

I curled up into a ball.

When a rusty taste spread in my throat.

I moved my lips away, a smear of bright red under the lamp.

Covered in sweat, I crawled up and stumbled into the bathroom.

That night, I didn't know how long I gritted my teeth in the bathroom, enduring the pain.

And how many decadent sounds I heard.

The pain on my body eased a little.

I crawled up to clean the bloodstains in the bathroom.

At this moment, the sounds from the master bedroom stopped, and the door opened.

Movement in the living room.

Followed by the sound of a beer can opening.

"Mr. Reed... do you have any medicine?"

The girl's voice was soft and mushy.

After a while.

I heard Lucas's voice, "I'll buy it for you."

My heart twitched.

Wiping the bloodstains on the floor.

When the bathroom door was pushed.

I happened to turn on the tap to wash my hands.

"Is there... someone inside?" The girl's voice.

I didn't make a sound, turned on the light.

"There really is someone."

The girl said resentfully.

Lucas, "Medicine will be here soon, what's wrong?"

"I want to wash up, my body feels too sticky."

After a while.

Someone leaned against the door.

Then the door was knocked twice, bang bang.

"Are you done yet? Jojo wants to shower."

I lowered my head, speeding up washing the bloodstains off my hands.

Pulled open the door and came out.

Walked past him who was still leaning against the door.

The girl went into the bathroom.

Only then did I turn my head and glance at him.

The sweat stains on his body hadn't dried yet.

Holding a beer can in his hand.

Why?

Must he make me so embarrassed?

The master bedroom clearly has a bathroom, but he insisted on bringing her out.

He just looked at me like this.

Was that gaze triumph, satisfaction, or mockery?

I looked away.

Got a glass of hot water and put it on the coffee table.

Looked down and took out various medicine boxes from the drawer.

Then poured out pills one by one.

He leaned against the screen, looking at me with a sneer.

I arranged the medicine and looked at him quietly.

What kind of look was that?

He thought I was moaning without illness again, pretending to have a serious illness to get his attention, right?

His expression was, Samantha Jones, act all you want, I won't fall for it.

I smiled.

Picked up the pills one by one, lifted the water glass, and fed them into my mouth.

Finally, tidied up the counter.

Walked past him and returned to the room.

When I was first diagnosed with leukemia.

The doctor asked the family to come.

I called him, but he hung up.

I carried the medicine back.

Indeed had thoughts, didn't put it in the bedroom.

Instead, put it in the drawer in the living room.

As long as he opened the drawer one day, he could discover that I had a terminal illness.

But half a year passed.

He actually didn't discover it once.

Let alone half a year.

Even today when I took medicine in front of him, he thought I was acting.

Closed the door.

I suddenly wanted to laugh.

Wonder if the day I die.

Will he regret a little bit?

His wife once took anti-leukemia medicine in front of him.

But he thought it was a wonderful play, at least a play he didn't fall for.