Althea handed him her medical report and said, “The doctor said the cancer has spread. I only have two months left.”
Tears fell one by one onto Darius’ shoulder. He felt deeply distressed. Every move he made around her was careful and gentle.
“Darius, I only have one wish before I die. You’ll help me fulfill it, won’t you?” Althea asked.
Darius glanced toward the master bedroom, a flicker of something crossing his eyes.
“She’ll agree. She’s not a petty person,” he replied.
Darius cooked for Althea, making her favorite seafood.
He served just one bowl, but none for me. It had been a long time since I had the cereal he made.
Ever since he started his company, I had felt sorry for him, seeing how hard he worked for our wedding. I never let him cook again.
Now, watching him care for Althea so tenderly, it felt like a knife twisting in my heart, the pain unbearable.
After comforting Althea, Darius lost the patience he had shown the night before. He violently pushed open the door, his expression dark.
His face grew even more displeased when he saw the untouched glass of milk by the bedside.