A month ago, I was diagnosed with a rare disease that caused me to have a clotting disorder. If I had any wounds, the bleeding wouldn't stop.
The doctors said it was a complication of this rare disease.
If there were too many instances of bleeding, I would experience memory loss and forget many things.
I didn't want to forget, so in order to minimize accidents, I deliberately stayed at home and avoided going out.
I even lied to Eric, telling him that my illness would likely leave me paralyzed and that I would need him to take care of me for the rest of my life.
I thought he would be like six years ago when we got married and assured me, "No matter poverty or wealth, health or illness, I will protect and care for you for a lifetime."
But he had a faint expression, silently smoking one cigarette after another on the balcony.
In the end, he only said, "Seraphina, I won't divorce you.
But I need someone to accompany me for the latter half of my life, and I want to have a child. You can't stop me from being with someone else."
The person Eric was talking about was Ava.
She was an impoverished student, and I sponsored her for five years.