When I left the ward, I turned my head uncontrollably to look at the bed, thinking, one last look, just one last look.
But she didn’t mean to look back, but patiently treated the small wound at the corner of his lip.
Damian even leaned over and kissed her cheek.
She didn’t dodge.
Tears streaked across the corners of my eyes and I rudely raised the back of my hand to wipe them away.
The good things in the past were all bullshit.
That was it, let it be.
“Mr. Snider, according to your condition, you must be hospitalized and treated immediately. If you delay any further, the possibility of recovery will be even smaller.”
I looked at the medical report, but there was no ripple in my heart.
My stomach had been bad for many years and I had been relying on medication for treatment. But now, the emotional blow had further deteriorated my condition and it had developed to the middle and late stages.
It was too late, everything was too late and it couldn’t be cured.
Besides, who cared whether it was good or not?
I was an orphan and my first half of life was almost bleak. It was Isabella’s appearance that cured me, but now, even she didn’t want me anymore.
If I died, would she regret it?