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.’

After voicing her thoughts to her grandmother, Camille got up and walked back like a lost soul.

Jameson stayed behind, waiting until the candles had completely burned before turning to chase after her.

By the time Camille reached the stairs and turned to go down, Sylvia suddenly screamed and rolled down the stairs.

“Sylvia!”

Jameson dashed forward, not noticing he had bumped into Camille. He rushed over to the huddled-up Sylvia, his mind in turmoil and his heart burning with worry. “Are you okay? Did you break your bones? Let me take you to the hospital!”

He lifted Sylvia in his arms without sparing a glance at Camille as he rushed away.

Camille had been knocked to the ground by Jameson. Her right arm had slammed hard against the unyielding steps. A deep gash split open, so deep the bone was visible, and blood instantly poured out, staining the ground.

She inhaled sharply, shivering in pain.

Camille struggled to get up. She clenched her teeth as she walked toward the entrance of the cemetery.

Jameson’s car was already gone.

The cemetery staff saw Camille covered in blood and quickly called a cab for her, instructing the driver to take her to the hospital.

Camille gave a bitter smile.

Even strangers could show such care for her, yet Jameson...

While getting her wound cleaned and stitched in the hospital, Camille sweated in pain, but she did not utter a single word.

The doctor could not help but comment, “Aren’t you afraid of the pain? It's rare to see a young lady so tough.”

Camille gazed out the window.

After her grandmother passed, she had once thought that Jameson would be her support. However, she had already driven him out of her life.

She was alone in this world. Who would she show her weakness to? She could only be strong.

As Camille was about to pay and leave, she ran into Jameson, who was carrying Sylvia with one arm around her.

He walked up to her with a stony face. “Camille, I already told you that Sylvia has cancer and doesn’t have much time left. Why did you still bump into her? Do you know this could’ve killed her?”

Camille looked at the man she had once thought she would spend her life with, feeling a deep sorrow in her heart. “I bumped into her? You believe everything she says, huh? What if I say I didn’t?”

Jameson’s eyes were filled with disappointment. “Camille! It was my decision to give the stone-carved house to her. If you’re mad, take it out on me. Why lash out at a sick person? Where’s your kindness? Your compassion?”

He had already passed judgment, unwilling to accept any explanation from Camille.

Camille felt utterly heartbroken. She turned her head and said in a calm voice, “People who fake being sick to play the moral victim don’t deserve an ounce of my compassion.”

Sylvia sobbed, burying her face in Jameson’s chest.

Jameson furrowed his brows as he looked at Camille. “Sylvia isn’t faking!”

Camille no longer wanted to make him believe her. She replied calmly, “If you say she’s not, then she’s not.”

“You…”

Before Jameson could continue, a voice suddenly rang out from the side.

“Camille?”

Camille turned around to see Ryan standing among a few doctors in white coats.

A smile appeared on her face. “Professor Zach, what are you doing here?”

Ryan walked over. “There’s a patient with a rare disease who was just admitted today. I’ve been invited to consult. Camille, how come you're here? Didn’t you already quit—”

Camille quickly interrupted, “I accidentally hurt my hand. I’m just here to get it treated.”

Jameson also walked over, respectfully greeting Ryan, “Mr. Zach.”

He suddenly pulled Sylvia away from his arms. There was a hint of urgency in his voice as he said, “The doctor says she only has a month left. Mr. Zach, your medical skills are world-renowned. Can you help her?”

Under normal circumstances, almost no one was worthy enough to have Ryan treat them.

The people standing beside him frowned, about to stop him, but Ryan raised his hand slightly.

Then, he looked at his young apprentice, Camille, before observing Sylvia’s face for a moment. He pressed a few points on her body and finally examined the test reports.

After a moment, he frowned. “This is ridiculous. Who made the diagnosis that this woman only has a month to live? She’s not sick. You should get a few more opinions from other hospitals.”

Sylvia groaned in pain and spat out blood.

Without thinking, Jameson said, “Mr. Zach, even if Camille is your apprentice, you can’t lie for her sake, right?”

The tiny hope that had just risen in Camille’s heart was extinguished completely.

She strode forward, her eyes locked on Jameson with a fierce glare. “Jameson! How dare you doubt my professor’s medical ethics?”

Jameson hesitated for a moment but immediately responded, “That’s not what I meant. What I meant is that maybe another check-up would be more accurate…”

Camille no longer wanted to see him. She turned around to Ryan and begged, “Professor Zach, shall we leave?”

Ryan nodded solemnly.

The others immediately followed him, and soon, they all entered the elevator together.

Jameson reached out but could not grab Camille. He turned around to check on Sylvia, then immediately scooped her up and rushed toward the ward.

Ryan looked at his apprentice and sighed. “I see now why you wish to break up.”

Camille remained silent.

He patted her shoulder. “Everything will pass.”

Camille nodded.

Indeed.

That night, when she heard Jameson walk away and watched the video that was sent, she thought her heart would shatter beyond repair.

However, despite the sorrow and pain, she survived.

After enduring enough pain, she got used to it.