Shortly after breaking up with Liam Caillet, he quickly found a new lover.

Years later, we met again. I was a million-follower blogger, and he acquired the MCN agency I was signed with.

He intercepted my resources, snatched my business deals, and shut down my live stream room.

Just because his new lover said, "Her face disgusts me, I don't like it."

Oh, I'm a cancer-fighting blogger.

How could the appearance of a dying person be good?

* * *

Just after finishing the pre-Thanksgiving warm-up broadcast, my assistant Alicia Hayes brought me bad news.

"Gabriella Rochon, I'm furious! Your advertising contract was replaced with Sandra by Mr. Caillet again!"

My heart sank for a moment. I hid the pain in my heart, forced a smile, and comforted her in turn. "Forget it, Alicia."

Alicia was indignant. "Again, forget it? How many times has he done this! If he keeps this up, how are you going to live? Wasn't it you who dumped him first back then? But he found a new lover immediately!"

I cleared my throat, lowered my voice, not wanting her to continue.

But she glared. "No, I'm going to find Liam right now. I'll tell him you have..."

"Alicia, don't go!"

I quickly grabbed her hand, "I'll go talk to him myself, is that okay?"

As soon as the words were spoken, the chief assistant pushed open the door to the live stream room.

"Gabriella, Mr. Caillet wants you in his office immediately. Hurry up."

My heart lurched violently. This was the first time Liam had personally summoned me since acquiring this MCN.

Standing outside Liam's mother glass-walled panoramic office,

I froze for a heartbeat, too terrified to lift my hand and knock.

Just glimpsing his sharp, icy profile made my blood run cold, my heart trembling instinctively.

I forced composure and finally rapped on the door.

The first thing I saw upon entering was his graduation photo with Sandra on the desk.

The very day I broke up with him, he accepted Sandra's confession—making it their anniversary.

As my thoughts threatened to drift, Liam slammed a file before me.

"Look. Your account metrics. Five consecutive months under fifty thousand in revenue. Explain."

My gaze dropped to the report. The bolded final line stabbed my eyes—

"Beauty Blogger: Lilla. Followers: 1.32M. Livestreams: 52. ROI ratio: 3.2%. Recommendation: Terminate partnership."

Those words—terminate partnership—closed around my throat like a vise.

I struggled to breathe, my voice trembling with sudden emotion.

"Mr. Caillet, my account always had strong traffic with tens of thousands viewers per livestream. But you disabled tipping and never assigned me sponsorships..."

"Gabriella." Liam suddenly cut me off with an icy utterance of my full name.

He looked down at me with imperious disdain. "Are you implying this is my fault?"

I froze speechless, neither confirming nor denying.

Wasn't it?

He let out a contemptuous laugh. "Gabriella, do you truly believe you're worth my deliberate targeting?"

The words struck like a boomerang tearing through my chest.

All the bitterness came flooding through that gaping wound, unstoppable...

Three years ago, I'd broken up with Liam.

The proud man who thought the world of himself had bent his nearly six-foot-three frame to beg me not to leave him.

Yet I told him, "Liam, do you truly believe you're worth my staying?"

Truthfully, since abandoning him that day, I'd never imagined this would happen.

"Effective immediately, the company revokes your account. Gabriella, you're terminated."

Liam delivered the verdict with icy indifference, not even bothering to lift his eyelids.

My body stiffened, breath catching in my throat.

"Liam, give me more time, I'll prove my worth to you, I can make money for you..."

The word "money" seemed to stab at Liam's raw nerve.

He snorted coldly, lifting his eyelids to glance at me. "Gabriella, do I need the pennies you'd scrape together for me?"

He suddenly straightened up, lips tightening, his indifferent gaze sharpening into hatred.

"Gabriella, you know what? If cash could buy a life, I'd pay to have you killed first."

It felt like a bullet tore through my chest, so painful I wanted to cry.

I knew he hated me, but never imagined it ran this deep.

Can't blame him—I pushed him into hell when he needed me most. He's earned every ounce of that hatred.

Liam's father was a narcotics officer. His greatest dream was to reactivate his father's badge number.

At eighteen, Liam had just received his police academy acceptance when he got arrested fighting thugs to save me. The record stain cost him his dream.

At twenty-two, Liam was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy. Five ICU admissions, six critical condition notices.

Before surgery he asked to see me. Thinking it was a ploy, I told him, "Liam, whether you live or die means nothing to me."

Now, facing the revulsion in his eyes, I clenched my jaw, speechless.

I owed him too much.

Blinking dry eyes, my voice dropped to a whisper. "At least let me finish this month. I'm begging you."

I bowed my head, hoping this pathetic act might move him.

In the end, only one sentence came:

"Get out. Five final days—don't let me see your face."

Clutching the termination agreement, I walked stiffly out of his office. The air conditioning blasted icy air that instantly wrapped around me, chilling me to the bone.

A sudden metallic warmth surged in my throat.

I hurried into the break room, pulled painkillers meant for cancer pain from my pocket, and swallowed them down with cold water.

After a long moment, I leaned heavily against the wall, took out my phone, snapped a close-up photo of the words "Termination Agreement," then logged into my alt account to post it with an update—

"Day 1,038: Fired by my beloved first love. Countdown to unemployment: Day 5."

Truth was, I'd been diagnosed with bone cancer three years ago – hereditary. My five-year survival rate was less than 20%.

The moment I posted, followers who tracked my updates flooded the comments.

"Marmalade is the bravest cancer fighter I follow! If you're unemployed now, just rest up!"

"Fired by your first love? I remember Marmalade saying their first love was just a poor student?"

Reading that comment, my chest tightened.

I'd once thought he was poor like me, until he started dating Sandra after we broke up.

That night, fireworks lit up the city all night.

Everyone knew Liam, the eldest son of the Caillet family, was in love.

Then I saw screenshots of someone's conversation with Liam posted on the campus confession wall.

Someone asked him why he pretended to be poor back then.

He replied, "I used to pretend to be poor to ward off gold-digging girls. Now I don't worry—that clingy woman finally backed off."

Bitterness flooded my mouth as my heart clenched in suffocating pain.

Suddenly, Alicia appeared beside me. Patting my dazed shoulder, she asked with concern, "Gabriella, are you alright? You look pale. Should we go to the hospital?"

I shook my head with a faint smile. "I'm fine."

But...

I showed her the termination agreement. "I just won't be able to work with you anymore."

Alicia snatched the document, scanning it twice before her anger erupted.

"That bastard Liam! Since when does he abuse power for personal grudges? Kicking you when you're down—doesn't he fear heaven's wrath? Doesn't he know your work is your lifeblood?"

Dragging me from the break room to confront Liam, we stumbled into a boisterous crowd.

Sandra approached in her white dress, distributing wedding invitations to staff.

When she reached me, she smirked triumphantly. "Gabriella, you must attend our wedding! After all, you're our matchmaker!"

Getting married?

Liam was getting married...

My blood seemed to freeze instantly, a lump forming in my throat.

I forced a smile, my voice thick with emotion. "Then I wish you and Mr. Caillet eternal happiness together."

Listening to my own hoarse words, my heart felt like being sliced open as I took the wedding candy from her.

The next second, Liam suddenly appeared, coldly snatching the wedding candy from my hand and tossing them into the trash bin.

Without glancing at me, he took Sandra's hand, interlacing their fingers tightly.

"My wedding isn't for just anyone to attend."

His words struck my chest like a sledgehammer.

The once bustling office fell dead silent, employees exchanging uneasy looks. Alicia moved to defend me, but I pressed her hand down.

I watched Liam's perfect silhouettes disappear through the doorway, waiting until other colleagues tactfully returned to their seats.

When the commotion faded, only Alicia and I remained.

Kneeling halfway, I retrieved each discarded wedding candy from the bin one by one.

There was chocolate flavor, strawberry flavor, pear flavor...

But no apple flavor.

That year, at the top of the Ferris wheel, he kissed me and whispered, "From now on, I'll only eat apple-flavored candies."

He didn't like it anymore. Not even a little.

I let out a silent scoff as tears unexpectedly fell down.

I clenched my fist around the wedding, pressing it hard against my chest where a wave of pain surged, trying to make it stop hurting.

But the sorrow kept tearing at my heart relentlessly.

Alicia held me close, her eyes full of concern, and led me back to our rented place near the cancer hospital.

She brought me boiled eggs just as I'd written "bet agreement" on a piece of paper.

Alicia asked softly, "Why are you writing this?"

I carefully folded the bet agreement and smiled faintly. "Even though Liam kicked me out, I want to try one last time. To show him my worth... to prove I can earn money for him."

Alicia stared at me in disbelief. "How?"

"By winning the gift ranking battle. Taking the top spot."

I'd prepared countless arguments to convince Liam, but none were needed.

After reading my bet agreement, he only said one thing. "Since you don't know when to quit, I'll teach you."

His icy glare felt like it could pierce right through me, yet I managed a bitter laugh.

"What's so funny?"

Hatred radiated from his eyes like physical heat.

I just remembered how he'd used that same tone years ago when teaching me to ride a bicycle.

The memory gnawed at my bones, but all that came out was. "Thank you... Mr. Caillet. For giving me this chance."

For that night's live stream, I was ready for a do-or-die battle.

I turned off the filter and lighting, went bare-faced on camera, and maximized the hype.

The moment I went live, it shot straight to the top of trending searches—

"Famous beauty blogger Lilla's bare-faced beauty rivals AI! A once-in-five-millennia beauty emerges!"

I thought the tough opponent Liam arranged for me would be a top influencer or A-list celebrity.

Never expected it to be Sandra.

I had no time to process the shock, immediately adjusting to welcome hundreds of thousands of fans flooding my stream.

While sculpting my face with makeup tools, my gift ranking soared to undisputed number one!

Meanwhile, Sandra in our PK had dismal engagement—under ten thousand viewers.

Victory seemed certain.

Some comments even pleaded. "Don't bully the newcomer!"

But in the final 30-second countdown, Liam parachuted into Sandra's stream and spammed 999 rockets!

My eyeliner hand jerked—red pigment splattered onto my white pupil.

The undisputed top spot on the gift leaderboard instantly became Sandra.

Results flipped in seconds: I lost to Sandra by a thousand-point gap.

Sandra smiled, utterly unbothered.

"Gabriella, you lost so you take the dare. I dare you to kiss the control guy for three seconds!"

The control guy was a fresh-faced intern fresh out of college.

Flushed crimson, he got shoved toward my live stream camera. Even two fists apart, I could hear his heart pounding wildly.

He kept his eyes down, avoiding my gaze. Fighting a smile, I asked, "Got a girlfriend?"

He froze briefly before shaking his head. "No, I... never dated anyone."

His first kiss.

Guilt washed over me. Screw it, I thought.

Job's gone anyway. Doing this dare changes nothing. No point dragging an innocent guy down with me.

I met his eyes apologetically. "Sorry, I—"

Before "can't do this" escaped my lips, he suddenly grabbed my waist. Warm breath brushed my skin as he lowered his head, pressing his lips to mine.

Simultaneously, my live chat exploded.

"OMG! Dominatrix meets baby wolf! True love's kiss! Shipping them hard!"

"So jealous of control guy! Kissing a stunner— I'd trade all my wealth for that chance!"

BANG! The studio door flew open, kicked off its hinges.

Amidst the screen filled with crazy shipping moments, Liam burst in looking grim, grabbed my arm and dragged me out!

Liam yanked me straight out of the streaming room.

He sneered, his icy glare stabbing into me,

"Gabriella, Andy Caillet's my cousin. Kissing him? You think you're worthy?"

Those words nearly tore my heart apart.

When our eyes locked, I almost buckled under the weight of his hatred.

Rubbing my reddened wrist, I swallowed the sting behind my eyes. "Sorry, I didn't know who he was. I just honored the bet."

Suddenly, a tall figure stepped between us, squaring off against Liam.

"Whether she's worthy is my call, bro. Back off."

My breath hitched as I stared at Andy's back. My gaze traveled over his shoulder—Liam's frigid stare pinned me, the coldness in his eyes piercing my heart until it bled.

"Andy, what do you even see in her? Her greed? Her scheming?"

Andy bristled. "Bro, one heartbreak made you this paranoid?

"Stop seeing dollar signs everywhere. The Caillet wealth could last ten lifetimes."

He took my hand and brushed past Liam.

Liam's face looked stiff from the corner of my eye.

Outside the company, Andy released my hand apologetically, explaining earnestly.

"Gabriella, Liam lost control today because he got hurt pretending to be poor while dating a scholarship student. Don't take his words to heart."

"Mhm."

I feigned nonchalance, responding with a light laugh, not telling him I was that scholarship student.

Thinking I doubted him, Andy continued, "My brother loved that woman deeply. He even tattooed her name over his right atrium, then later had surgery to replace that entire patch of skin."

"Liam finds her disgusting, and I think she's bad luck," his eyes burned into me, "but you're different—"

Unbearable pain surged through my chest.

The tattoo over my own right atrium—bearing Liam's name—seemed to ache in sympathy.

Cutting out the skin must've hurt him terribly.

I blinked back tears and cut Andy off. "We're just colleagues. Thanks for helping me out today."

Those words—just colleagues—stifled whatever Andy meant to say next. The brightness in his eyes instantly dimmed.

I turned and walked away, leaving him behind.

I'd pack my things and hand in my resignation to HR.

HR coldly tossed me a voluntary resignation agreement. "Mr. Caillet set your termination date for month-end. Leaving now forfeits your severance."

I froze. I need that money. Medical bills pile up, and my savings can't be touched.

I changed my mind instantly. "I'll work through the month then."

Four days won't kill me. Never turn down cash.

The HR officer shot me a dismissive glance, nodded toward some coffee cups, and ordered, "These are Mr. Caillet's orders. Since you're idle now, deliver them to Ms. Sullivan."

On the packaging, Liam's handwritten note stood out:

"No ice, less sugar. Drink less coffee, sleep more."

Warm words. Once, that warmth was meant for me too.

Grabbing the coffees, I headed toward Sandra's room. Memories flooded back with each step. Of Liam's phone filled with notes about my preferences:

"Gabriella loves watermelon, hates vinegar. Adores fresh strawberries but despises strawberry candy..."

A bitter ache tightened my chest.

Does he keep such notes for Sandra now?

When her period comes, does he brew her hot tea and massage her belly?

When she's sad, does he hold her close and sing to comfort her too?

Thinking that, I suddenly felt my idea was foolish.

Sandra is his fiancée, the one he chose to spend his life with. Of course he would, and he'd give even more.

My eyes stung unbearably.

Shaking off the thoughts, I knocked on Sandra's office door and entered.

"Ms. Sullivan, Mr. Caillet ordered this coffee for you."

Sandra reached to take it when her hand froze mid-air, her sharp gaze locking onto my slightly open collar.

I looked down and followed her stare to the exposed "C" on my chest.

I immediately tried to pull my collar tighter, but Sandra grabbed my wrist. "Gabriella, showing off that tattoo for Liam?"

I wanted to deny it, but she continued dismissively, "Think he'll rekindle things? Or let you keep your job?"

My throat tightened. "I never thought that. No need to be vicious."

Sandra threw her head back laughing. "Think? You even qualify? Go ahead, dream on! Liam said you were just a practice run. Stop acting like some unattainable ideal."

Her laughter died abruptly, eyes glinting with venom—cold and reptilian.

"Don't believe me? Try him."

I wouldn't try. Wouldn't fight either. Just four quiet days left. Get paid. Leave.

Wrenching free, I set her coffee down and turned to go.

Then she snatched the cup and upended it over my head. Brown liquid drenched me from scalp to soles. Ice-less, yet freezing. Like being locked in a meat locker.

I stood motionless until the last drop fell.

Shivering slightly, I asked, "May I go now?"

Sandra tossed her empty cup to me, smiling with satisfaction. "Help yourself. But a word of advice—trash belongs in the trash. Don't put it in the wrong place. Trash is trash."

Heaviness settled in my chest, my breath growing ragged.

Without a word, I turned away. When I lifted my eyes, Liam was walking through the door.

Our gazes locked.

In that instant, he saw every shred of my humiliation.

His jaw tightened, the faint warmth in his eyes dissolving into pure revulsion. That icy stare pierced through me like a blade.

My throat constricted; tears threatened to spill. Then—scalding water hit my back from behind!

Searing pain arched my spine. I staggered, unsteady.

She flung herself into Liam's arms, feigning innocence. "Liam, her face was so repulsive. I couldn't help it."

Liam's frigid gaze raked over me.

After a beat, his voice cut through the air. "True. What a jinx."

A wave of sorrow crashed over me.

I'm terminal. How could a dying woman look anything but wretched?

Why did cancer have to choose me?

And why did fate force me to cross paths with Liam again?

How can I just stand by and watch him being all lovey-dovey with the one I used to despise most, who's now recklessly hurting me!

A knot of anguish tightened in my chest, and I suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood.

Dizziness washed over me, and I fell straight back—

...

When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed.

Biting back the excruciating pain, I forced my eyes open and heard a heated argument outside the ward.

I lifted my gaze and saw my attending physician, Hubert Davis, land a hard punch on Liam's right cheek.

"Liam! Do you even have a fucking heart? When I handed Gabriella over to you, what did you promise me? You said you'd take good care of her."

As he spoke, his eyes were bloodshot, and he choked up.

"And you just let Sandra bully her? Do you know she has cancer..."

Liam wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting mine.

My breath hitched, and I heard him say, "She was the one who rushed to provoke Sandra. Since you don't mind that I've had my fun with her, I don't care if you become her rebound now."

"But whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with me."

Every word pierced my heart, the pain stealing my breath.

Liam withdrew his chilling gaze from me and turned away.

Hubert glanced back, catching my desolation. "You heard everything just now?"

I gave no answer as he approached to comfort me. "Gabriella, I just think you deserve better—"

I cut Hubert off. "Hubert, I'm tired. Let me be alone for a while, please?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. But call me immediately if you feel any discomfort. I'll be here."

I managed a weak smile. "Thank you. For putting up with me before... and now."

Hubert was our senior at university.

When we first met, he hadn't known I was dating Liam and confessed his feelings. Liam once saw him as a rival.

To avoid complications, I kept my distance. Three years ago, on the day of my diagnosis, I discovered he was my attending physician...

Life has always been this unpredictable.

Perhaps the heartbreak and sudden unemployment left me vulnerable.

This relapse hit like a storm—frequent, crippling pain. I couldn't leave my bed, let alone the hospital. Even painkillers failed me.

Nights blurred into vomiting blood. Then came the ICU.

After five days of emergency care, I finally improved enough to move from the ICU to a regular ward.

Once I could use my phone, I instinctively checked my makeup account's analytics.

To my shock, the account had been renamed "Liam"—transformed into a couple's vlog channel for Liam.

Cruelly, their first video was posted on October 22nd.

The video's title read: "Wedding Prep Diary: Finding the Perfect Dress"

That date had once been our anniversary.

Bitterness churned inside me as I lacked the courage to click play. Instead, I opened my cancer-fighting account to update:

"Day 1,042: The video channel I built for three years got wiped clean by my first love. It hit me—after I die, will I vanish from his memory too?"

My hands trembled too much to finish typing.

Liam was merciless. He turned our anniversary into Sandra's celebration, remaining the leading man while I became an extra.

......

Day twenty in the hospital.

Hooked up to IV fluids, I suddenly craved real food.

Hubert told me, "Appetite's a good sign—means your body's rallying. Eat whatever you want. A full stomach fuels your battle."

I thought of my favorite Dante's Ravioli.

Hubert gave me a booster shot before letting me leave the hospital alone.

Actually, I knew it was morphine he gave me.

When I struggled to Dante's entrance, workers were dismantling the store sign; the bold "Dante's" characters lay shattered on the ground.

I found the owner and asked, "Boss, closing shop?"

He said, "Yes. Someone paid three million to buy it, claiming this place holds nothing but filthy memories. Insisted on tearing it down to build a dessert parlor."

I immediately thought of Liam.

Dessert parlors were Sandra's favorite.

My heart ached like a thin needle had pierced it.

Seeing my thin frame and swollen belly, the owner kindly offered. "Miss, pregnancy cravings? The kitchen's still intact—let me make you one last bowl."

Cradling my protruding abdomen, I shook my head.

"Thank you for your kindness. May your life be peaceful."

I used to think "peaceful life" sounded corny—until facing death, where peace outweighs everything.

I bid farewell without telling him it wasn't pregnancy, but ascites.

Finally, I photographed the message wall and updated my cancer journal.

"On my 1057th day fighting cancer, I returned to the ravioli shop where I used to meet my first love. The message I once left—"May we ride the late-night bus of happiness to the final stop"—had faded away..."

"He now shines so dazzlingly happy. That last bus? I had to board it alone."

Back at the hospital, the ascites tortured me with unbearable pain.

Hubert rushed to write me a prescription and accompanied me to the ultrasound room.

In the waiting area, I unexpectedly ran into Liam.

Liam held an ultrasound report while Sandra clung to his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Liam, do you think our baby will be a boy or a girl? What name should we choose?"

Liam blurted out, "Anything but Lilla. That name sounds disgusting."

My heart felt like a knife twisting inside, overshadowing the abdominal agony.

Lilla—the name I'd once chosen for our future child.

I clenched Hubert's hand tightly. "I don't want the scan. Take me back to the ward."

Before I could turn away, Sandra spotted me. "Gabriella?"

She pulled Liam over, eyed my swollen belly, then feigned surprise. "It really is you! What a coincidence."

"Gabriella, are you pregnant too? How far along are you?"

Hubert tried to speak for me, but I stopped him.

My burning gaze dropped to her abdomen as I countered. "And you?"

"Just three weeks."

She beamed with joy as she linked arms with Liam. "No wonder Gabriella quit her job so abruptly earlier—she was pregnant! She hid it so well!"

Just as I was about to explain, Liam snorted coldly, his voice frosty with mockery. "When you've got something to hide, of course you'd keep it buried."

At that moment, my heart turned so desolate it felt too numb to feel pain.

It was as if I'd suddenly felt a sudden sense of release and let go.

I forced a smile. "Mr. Caillet, not everyone shares your secretive tendencies."

I was calling him out for pretending to be poor back then. Liam knew it too. He scoffed, too disdainful to respond, and simply pulled Sandra away.

Before they'd even walked far, I suddenly vomited a mouthful of dark blood.

Hubert frantically reached out to steady me, urging me to hold on.

But I couldn't hold on any longer. I could only let my consciousness drift away.

……

When I woke again, I was back in the ICU.

Dazed and drifting in and out of consciousness, I vaguely heard Hubert speaking to someone.

His voice was helpless and regretful. "Her body can't withstand surgery. At the end, I can't let her pass away on the operating table…"

I silently agreed: Yes, I don't want to die lying on a cold operating table.

Moments later, his voice rang out again—

This time, laced with anger.

"Liam, haven't you always wanted to know why Gabriella left you years ago? Come to the hospital tomorrow and I'll fucking tell you!"

"I'm not interested!"

Liam's voice was ice-cold and weary, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

That night, the entire city ignited in a spectacular fireworks display.

Lying on my hospital bed, I lifted dry eyes wondering who was celebrating love.

Were countless couples sharing their first kiss under these blazing blossoms? Just like Liam and I once did.

The whisper escaped me. "So beautiful."

More stunning than the ones we'd seen, though he'd promised fireworks just for me—now bursting for Sandra.

Suddenly her name exploded across the sky. A thousand silver sparks showered the night like stars.

I smiled bitterly. Of course it was Liam again. He truly adored Sandra.

Alicia squeezed my hand beside me. "Gabriella, look away."

Her eyes remained swollen. "Next spring I'll give you grander fireworks than this. Just get well, please?"

Hubert stepped in front of me, muttering darkly. "That bastard Liam!"

I looked up at Hubert, forcing a barely-there smile.

"Dr. Davis, I want to go home."

He stayed silent for a long moment before answering surprisingly fast. "Alright, I'll get you home."

For the first time, he didn't urge me to keep fighting. But his smile looked so strained.

The next day before discharge, I shakily raised my phone to snap a picture of my bedside medical screen. It read: Patient: Gabriella, twenty-eight years and twenty-eight days old.

Then I opened my cancer account, cropped out my name, and wanted to write something. But I had no strength left. My fingers slipped and hit send.

Hubert arrived. Today he wasn't wearing his white coat, just a white shirt like when we first met.

"Alicia's bringing the car around. I'll carry you."

Too weak to respond, I offered a pale smile.

He carefully gathered me into his arms, and I nestled obediently against his broad, warm chest.

His heart thumped-thumped powerfully, a little too fast. The rhythm felt hypnotic, lulling me toward sleep.

"Gabriella, stay awake."

I fought to keep my eyelids from drooping, thinking: I won't sleep. I haven't said goodbye to Liam yet… haven't given him a proper farewell…

I wouldn't sleep. But I was so tired. So much pain.

Would the pain stop if I slept?

Just a little while… just a moment…

——

At the corridor's end, Liam saw Gabriella asleep in Hubert's embrace.

His expression instantly darkened.

He must be out of his mind to believe Hubert's nonsense and come to the hospital seeking so-called truth!

The moment Liam turned away with a black expression, the ghostly pale hands in Hubert's arms slumped down limply...

He turned too quickly, missing Hubert's choked whisper as he bowed his head.

"Rest in peace, Gabriella."

Back at his office, Liam summoned his assistant immediately. "Issue an order to blacklist Gabriella!"

"Any company daring to hire her—ruin them!"

She'd fooled him again. This time, she'd pay.

Three days after Gabriella's blacklisting, an anti-cancer blog suddenly trended.

"Anti-cancer blogger Marmalade stops updates, suspected deceased. Netizens identify her first love as Liam, CEO of the Caillet Group!"

Liam frowned and clicked into the account.

"Day 1020: The doctor says the pain will worsen as it progresses, but I still want to hold on."

"Day 932: A fellow patient passed today. He said his greatest fear was being forgotten. But I'm different. I want my first love to forget me, yet I'm afraid he might. Am I being silly?"

"Day 133: Ever wonder why my username is Marmalade? Because oranges were his favorite fruit. The doctor says my condition is grim, but I will fight this failing body to the end!"

"Day 10: Broke up with my first love. His family was as poor as mine—how could I ruin his life too?"

...

Liam felt more familiar with each word, increasingly certain the "first love" she described was him.

Just then, his assistant pushed open the office door.

"Mr. Caillet, while organizing accounts, we found Gabriella's ID linked to another profile—Marmalade. It's the same one trending right now."