“Camille, I’ll love you forever!”

Jameson let out a low, agonized growl. Just as he was about to climax, his phone suddenly began to buzz. He ignored it, of course. Now was hardly the time.

However, his phone lit up again. The moment he saw the text on the screen, his body froze.

Camille heard him answer the call. “Hello?”

In the deep silence of the night, the voice on the phone cut through the stillness, clear and unmistakable. “Jameson, did you know that Sylvia—”

Jameson switched languages and cut in with a sharp command, “Keep it down. It's not a good time.”

The other person switched languages too, though he was still loud. “The hospital results came in. Sylvia is in the final stages of cancer. She only has a month left! Her last wish is to become your wife. Can you grant her that before she passes?”

Jameson’s expression changed immediately. “What?! Wait for me!”

He ended the call and turned to Camille. “Camille, something urgent came up. I need to step out for a bit. Be good and stay home. I’ll be back after you’ve had some sleep.”

Before she could respond, he rose to wash up, changed his clothes, and left without looking back.

Moments later, her phone buzzed.

Sylvia: [Camille, you lost. I told you—Jameson has always been mine.]

Right above it was a message from three days ago: [If I tell him I have cancer, do you think Jameson will leave you and come to me? I bet he will.]

Camille’s gaze slowly shifted from her phone screen to the open bedroom door. What Jameson did not know was that she had already picked up a new language. She understood every word of that call.

After a long moment, a faint, bitter smile appeared on her face.

“Yeah, I lost...”

Memories of every little moment she shared with Jameson flooded her mind.

Jameson was the genius young heir of the Hart family, the richest in South City, while Camille Fields was just a village girl from the mountains.

One summer at the age of 17, she found Jameson after he had fallen off a cliff. She had never seen someone so handsome and refined.

Camille brought him back to her home and took care of him.

When he woke up, he was blind and had lost his memory. He stayed at her house for over a year, and only after regaining his memory did he contact the Hart family with her help.

Jameson confessed his love to her, asking her to return to the Hart family with him and promising to stay by her side for the rest of his life.

Camille was so overwhelmed with emotion that she followed him to South City without a second thought.

It was only later that she learned that Jameson’s fall was not an accident.

His ex-girlfriend, Sylvia Gray, had taken him on a hiking trip. Jameson fell off the cliff while trying to save her.

Yet Sylvia told no one about this accident. When she got home, she immediately packed and left the country.

When Jameson returned to South City, he was still blind. Because of that, the Hart family was preparing to choose another heir.

Camille was worried he would not be able to handle the blow.

However, he held her hand tightly and smiled as he said, “As long as I have you, Camille, nothing else matters.”

Camille studied day and night in college because of this promise, even agreeing to take experimental drugs. Eventually, she restored Jameson’s sight.

The moment he could see, he hugged her tightly and vowed never to let her down.

After regaining his sight, Jameson returned to his position as the heir of the Hart family.

Everyone said that his status was too noble for him to be with a village girl like Camille, who still had an accent when she spoke.

However, Jameson cherished her like a treasure. Anyone who dared to speak ill of Camille in front of him would see him turn against them.

He showed everyone with his actions and words that he loved Camille with all his heart.

Over time, everyone believed it. Camille also believed in it deeply.

That was until three months ago, when Sylvia returned.

After adding her as a friend, Sylvia often sent Camille messages, talking about how good Jameson had been to her in the past.

Camille could not be bothered. Those things were in the past, and now, Jameson treated her even better.

However, at this moment, Jameson had dropped everything without hesitation for a phone call and gone to find Sylvia.

He did not even remember to call the hospital to verify the supposed cancer diagnosis.

Camille had clearly shown Jameson the message Sylvia sent her three days ago. He told her that Sylvia was just trying to get her attention and that she should not worry about it.

She had not worried about it.

What about Jameson?

Camille curled up in the blanket as though she was waiting for some kind of verdict. She did not know how much time had passed when her phone buzzed twice.

A message from an unknown number with a video popped up. Camille slowly reached for it and tapped it open.

Jameson’s familiar voice came through, trembling slightly, “Sylvia…”

Sylvia threw herself into his arms, tilting her head to kiss him. “Jameson, I’m dying. Please don’t push me away…”

The video cut off, but the sound of their ragged breathing still played.

Camille knew his voice by heart. It was etched into her very bones. She could not possibly be wrong.

At that moment, all hope left her. She shut her eyes as silent tears slipped down her face.

She took her phone and sent a message: [Mr. Zach, I agree to go abroad with you to further my studies.]

Jameson had betrayed the promise they once made.

Camille was done with him.

Jameson did not come home all night.

Early the next morning, Camille got a call from her professor, Ryan Zach.

He sounded excited. “Camille, are you really willing to go abroad with me for this exchange program? Our first stop is a battlefield, where we will be working with Doctors Without Borders. It’s dangerous, and we might lose contact with home for a long time!”

Camille’s voice was soft but determined. “Yes. I’ve made up my mind.”

Ryan hesitated for a moment, surprised by her determination. “You turned me down before. Didn’t you say you were planning to get married? What changed…”

Camille answered, “I’m planning to break up.”

He immediately understood something had gone wrong in her relationship. He let out a sigh. “You’ve thought this through? No regrets?”

Camille replied, “None.”

He immediately said, “Alright then. Get your documents and credentials together in the next couple of days and send them to me. I’ll handle the paperwork. We’ll leave in a month.”

As soon as she hung up, Camille received a message from Jameson: [Camille, something urgent came up at work, and I had to travel. I’ll contact you once I’m back in South City. Be good and wait for me at home.]

She stared at the message, let out a bitter smile, then set the phone aside and began organizing her documents.

She grew up in a remote mountain village and was practically cut off from the rest of the world. There were only a dozen families there, and her grandmother was the only person in the village who could treat the sick.

At three years old, Camille began learning about plants, minerals, and alternative medicine from her grandmother.

When she found Jameson, he had lost his sight and was injured. She swore she would cure him, so she applied to a clinical medicine program at a top college without hesitation.

Back then, Jameson had genuinely treated her well. He used every connection the Hart family had to get her accepted as a student under the nation’s top medical experts.

Camille had the talent, and under that kind of guidance, her skills in medicine grew rapidly.

After she restored Jameson’s vision, Ryan noticed her and accepted her as his final apprentice.

Six months ago, Ryan announced plans to take three students abroad for a global medical exchange. The idea was to expand their knowledge and help treat patients around the world.

Their first mission was to assist Doctors Without Borders.

Once Camille left with him, Jameson would never be able to find her again.

After Camille organized her documents, another video message from an unknown number came in. She opened it.

In the video, Sylvia looked pale and frail in Jameson’s arms.

Her voice was soft and pitiful. “Jameson, I just want to be your wife for one month. After that, when I’m gone, you’ll belong to Ms. Fields again. This is my only dying wish. Please, say yes?”

Jameson lowered his eyes and looked at her with pity. “Sylvia, I’ll do it.”

Her face lit up with joy. “Thank you, Jameson! I knew you’d say yes.”

Someone off-camera whispered, “Jameson, what if Camille finds out you and Sylvia registered your marriage?”

Jameson replied, “She won’t know. Once Sylvia… passes, I’ll go back to Camille’s side and be the Jameson who loves her with all his heart.”

The video ended. Then, another message came through. It was a photo of a marriage certificate.

Camille felt her heart bleeding.

She closed her eyes.

She remembered when she graduated college, she had once impulsively proposed to Jameson, but he turned her down.

He told her that when it came to proposals and marriage, he wanted to be the one to do it properly and give her a perfect ceremony. It had to be special. It had to wait.

It turned out that it was not the timing that was the problem but the person.

With Sylvia, he had no problem registering their marriage immediately.

…

Two days later, Camille resigned from her hospital position and handed her documents to Ryan to prepare for the trip.

The moment she got home, another video message came in.

Sylvia clung to Jameson and whispered, “Give me a child, please? I’ll take him with me when I go, then I won’t be alone.”

Jameson looked at her tenderly. “Okay.”

After the video, Camille sat there in silence for a long time before chuckling bitterly to herself.

She got up, gathered all the matching items she and Jameson shared—toothbrushes, mugs, clothes—and dumped them into a trash bin outside.

Jameson’s voice suddenly came from behind her. “Camille, what are you doing?”

He was standing next to her.

Without turning around, she said quietly, “Just throwing out some old stuff.”

Back inside, he quickly noticed many things were missing from their home. Even their matching toothbrushes were gone.

He asked, “Didn’t you just buy those electric toothbrushes? Why toss them too?”

Camille paused for a moment and replied, “That brand got embroiled in a nasty scandal. I don’t want to keep using their stuff.”

He gave a helpless smile and reached out to tousle her hair, just like always. “Still as picky as ever, huh?”

She stepped away from his hand and met his eyes. “You know I don’t overlook things, Jameson. I never have.”

However, he did not catch the meaning behind her words. Instead, he pulled her into a hug.

“Alright, alright. My Camille is the most honest, upright girl there is.”

Camille recalled the video of him and Sylvia tangled together and suddenly felt sick.

She pushed him away, turned to the side, and could not help but gag into her hand.

The expression on Jameson’s face changed. “Camille, are you pregnant?”

She looked up. “And if I said yes?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Then get rid of it. Now isn’t the right time for a baby.”

Yet he had said yes to giving Sylvia a child. Who could be less suited to have a baby than someone with cancer?

And that cancer diagnosis turned out to be a lie to manipulate him.

Camille gave a small, mocking smile. “I was joking. I just haven’t been eating well these past few days. My stomach is acting up.”

Jameson let out a sigh of relief and immediately gave her a worried, tender look. “Your stomach again? Camille, were you not behaving while I was gone? Next time I travel, I’m shrinking you and putting you in my pocket.”

He sweetly brought her medicine and a warm glass of water, holding it to her lips. He even made dinner. They were all her favorite dishes.

If she had not heard it with her own ears and seen it with her own eyes, she never would have believed this man had already married someone else and was planning to have a child with her.

That night in bed, Jameson wrapped an arm around her waist, reaching to take off her pajamas.

At that moment, every hair on her body stood on end. Without thinking, she moved to the edge of the bed. “I don’t feel well. I don’t want to.”

He stretched his arm out and pulled her back into his embrace. “Okay, okay. It’s my fault, babe. I won’t touch you. Just rest.”

Camille buried her face in his chest. The corner of her lips curled into a cold, mocking smile.

Just who was his sweetie?

She shut her eyes and pretended to sleep. A few moments later, she felt him quietly reach for his phone.

“Camille? Camille?”

She did not respond.

Jameson got up, and she soon heard the door quietly click shut.

She then heard her phone buzz.

It was obvious where Jameson had gone.

Camille lay there in silence, tears sliding down her cheeks as she stared into the dark. She did not even know when she fell asleep.

The next morning, she woke up groggy and exhausted.

She checked her phone. There were photos of Jameson meeting Sylvia late at night from the same unknown number and a message from Jameson himself.

[Camille, it’s your grandma’s memorial day. I went to the office last night to finish up some work. I’ll be home by 9:00 am to pick you up so that we can visit her grave together. Wait for me.]

Two messages side by side... It was cruelly ironic.

Camille simply got up and placed a cold compress over her swollen eyes to bring down the puffiness.

Jameson called around 9:00 am.

“Camille, I'm waiting for you by the elevator in the underground parking lot. You can come down now.”

Camille grabbed the offerings she had prepared earlier and got into his car.

Her grandmother passed away when she was in her second year of college. Originally, she had planned to bury her grandmother in their hometown.

It was Jameson who bought a plot at the most expensive cemetery in South City.

He said that her grandmother would be buried in South City as it would be too lonely for her grandmother to stay in their hometown alone.

Reluctantly, Camille, under his persuasion, had her grandmother buried at the cemetery in South City.

However, she was about to leave now and would never come back.

Now, her grandmother would be buried alone in South City. She should never have trusted Jameson’s promises.

Camille sat in the car, her tears flowing uncontrollably.

Jameson, feeling heartbroken, stopped the car and pulled her into his arms, gently comforting her, “Camille, darling, don’t cry. Your grandmother knows what you’ve done for her, and she’ll be at peace.”

At that moment, all Camille could think of was his betrayal, yet he was still pretending to be so sincere in front of her.

She closed her eyes tightly, pulled away from his embrace, and said in a hoarse voice, “You're right. I can't make Grandma worry. Let's go.”

Jameson looked at her worriedly. “Camille, did something happen? Your grandmother has been gone for a long time. Why are you so upset?”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing. I just miss her so much all of a sudden.”

Jameson asked a few more times, but when he did not get an answer, he had no choice but to continue driving. “Camille, please stop crying. If you keep this up, I’ll tell Grandma you’ve been naughty. You weren’t feeling well yesterday, and today, you’re crying your eyes out for her.”

Camille lowered her gaze and said nothing.

When they arrived at the cemetery, she took two bouquets of flowers and some candles with her as she got out of the car.

Jameson offered to carry them, but she stepped aside. “I want to give them to Grandma myself.”

The two of them walked up the steps together.

Camille looked at the familiar smile on the photo of her grandmother and felt an overwhelming sense of loss. Kneeling down, she touched the tombstone.

Jameson knelt beside her.

“Grandma, please rest assured. I’ll take good care of Camille and be her support for life.”

Camille did not understand why he still dared to say such things in front of her grandmother’s tombstone.

She took out the bouquets of dried flowers to place them in front of the tombstone.

Jameson grabbed her hand.

“Camille, aren’t these the flowers you arranged for us?”

Camille nodded. “I’m giving them to Grandma so that she can be happy for us too.”

He furrowed his brows. “But you said these were meant for us to use on our wedding day.”

“I’ll make new ones.”

Jameson reluctantly let go, watching as Camille placed the bouquets she had carefully arranged on the tombstone.

A sense of inexplicable panic rose within him. “Camille, are you…”

However, before he could finish, a voice suddenly called out from the cold, solemn cemetery.

“Jameson!”

Both Jameson and Camille turned around to see Sylvia standing not far away.

Her white clothes were a stark contrast to her black hair, making her look unusually fragile.

Jameson frowned as he walked toward her. “What are you doing here?”

Camille tried to ignore them. She took out a small carved house from her bag that she had specifically prepared for today.

She silently said to her grandmother in her heart, ‘Grandma, I’m leaving soon. I’m leaving this house from our hometown as a memento…’

Just as she was about to place the house in front of the tombstone, someone suddenly grabbed it from her hands.

Camille turned around.

Sylvia was holding the small house, tears streaming down her face. “Ms. Fields, this little house looks just like my grandparents' house when I was a child. Can you please give it to me?”

Camille immediately refused without thinking, “No, I carved this for my grandmother with my own hands. Please give it back to me.”

She reached out her hand.

However, Sylvia refused to return it. Instead, she turned to look at Jameson with pleading eyes. “Jameson, when my grandparents passed away, they were still thinking about their hometown. This house really looks like their home. Can you let Ms. Fields give it to me?”

Jameson hesitated for just a moment before saying to Camille, “Camille, give it to her. You can carve another one for your grandmother, okay?”

Camille felt a sudden chill run through her.

When she first learned stone carving, her hands had been covered in cuts from the tools. Jameson had been so heartbroken at the time, telling her that her hands were meant for saving lives, not for such things.

After failing to stop her, he made her promise that this would be the only piece she ever carved and that she would never do it again. Now, he wanted her to give away this stone house, which she had so painstakingly carved, to Sylvia.

Camille lowered her head. “This is for my grandmother.”

Jameson walked over, bent down, and whispered in her ear with a tone of helplessness, “She has cancer and doesn’t have much time left. Camille, please let her have it, okay?”

Camille said, “What if I say no?”

He fell silent.

The air grew cold.

Sylvia clutched her chest and, in a choked voice, called out, “Jameson…”

Without a second thought, Jameson replied, “Yes, Sylvia, you can take it.”

Sylvia broke into a smile, turning to walk quickly toward her grandparents’ tombstone and placing the stone house there.

As Camille looked at the smile in the photo of her grandmother on the tombstone, her lips trembled as she tried to force a smile, but her eyes turned red.

Jameson was saying something beside her, but she could not hear a word.

She just kept thinking about how she had spent so long learning stone carving—sketching drafts over and over, failing again and again. She had put so much effort into preparing the gift for her grandmother.

Yet it was so easily taken by Jameson and given to Sylvia.

At this point, what other decisions would Jameson make for her? What more of hers would he give away to Sylvia?

She thought to herself, ‘Grandma, both you and I misjudged him. But luckily, it’s still not too late. I no longer want this man.’