The day I got my cancer diagnosis, Zane's first love came back to town.

They had a magical night together, rekindling their old flame.

Later, I passed away on our wedding anniversary.

I left this world amidst the fireworks Zane had lit for her.

——

Zane Smith lost his mind, desperately pleading for me to visit him in his dreams just one more time.

After the hospital diagnosed me with cancer, I pulled out my phone, intending to call Zane. Just as the line connected, I was met with a busy signal, and the call was abruptly cut off.

"Beth, I won't be home for dinner tonight."

I lowered my head in silence, accepting this reality quietly, just as I always did.

I let out a self-deprecating smile and walked home.

A few months ago, I started losing my appetite, feeling nauseous and vomiting, with radiating pain in my back and waist. I thought it was just stress until my body began to waste away and I developed jaundice.

It wasn't until I went to the hospital today for an examination that I learned I had late-stage pancreatic cancer.

The doctor told me I had at most three months left to live.

My parents have passed away, and I don't have many friends; even if I die, no one would really care.

I only have Zane left.

I almost forgot that today is the day Zane's first love returned to town.

He must be going to see her today.

I lay down early but couldn't fall asleep.

It wasn't until I heard the door open at one in the morning that Zane came home.

He lay down beside me, turning to wrap his arms tightly around me from behind and whispered, "Beth, I miss you."

I didn't respond, just gently caressed the hand he had wrapped around my waist. His hand wore our custom wedding ring, known as the DR diamond ring, which is said to be made only once in a lifetime.

Its philosophy is "to love one person for a lifetime."

I could smell the fragrance of that woman's perfume on Zane.

It was Versace's Pink Diamond, a light and elegant scent that felt overwhelming at that moment.

This was Elizabeth Shaw's favorite perfume.

Zane, are you calling for Elizabeth, or for Beth?

I should have asked him.

I opened my mouth silently, but in the end, I didn't say anything.

In the morning, I expertly tied Zane's tie, just like always.

He suddenly pulled me into a tight hug and asked, "Beth, why have you lost so much weight?"

I froze for a moment and replied, "Have I?"

"Yeah, you've lost weight. It's uncomfortable to hold you now."

He noticed my weight loss, and it made me feel happy inside.

Zane went to the kitchen and cooked a steaming bowl of noodles, then watched me intently as I ate the entire thing.

I forced myself to eat bite by bite, trying to ignore the nausea, since it had been so long since I'd eaten this much.

Zane patiently stayed with me until I finished, then he placed his hand on my forehead to check for a fever. After that, he poured me a cup of hot water and gently reminded me to rest up.

For a brief moment, I thought we had gone back to the old days.

Back then, to support his grad school dreams, I worked around the clock writing, while he would always cook me noodles late at night, hoping I'd eat more.

I gave Zane one last chance, saying, "Zane, could you please help me schedule a check-up at your hospital? I've been feeling really unwell lately..."

Zane's response was firm, "I told you it's just because you worry too much; you're just tired. Don't come to the hospital looking for me lately, just rest at home."

I insisted again, my tone resolute, "Can you please help me make an appointment for a check-up? It shouldn't be that hard for you."

Zane's attitude became even more unyielding, "No way, people will say I'm playing favorites. Do you have any idea how busy I am with work? It's not like you can just write a novel and have money to spare."

He added dismissively, "Just use the app to book it yourself. Don't bother me with these little things in the future."

We held our ground for a moment, but I ultimately gave in, "Fine."

Like so many times before, I helped Zane tie his tie and organize his clothes, sending him off with a reminder, "Be careful out there and stay safe."

This is what a good wife looks like when caring for her husband.

I decided on a whim to go find Zane.

I had been to the hospital where Zane works many times—sometimes to bring him lunch, other times to pick him up or drop him off.

Zane never hides our relationship; he openly introduces me to everyone.

There was a time when I thought we would be together like this forever.

But fate loves to play tricks on you; unfulfilled desires are just a part of life.

Just like now, the man I love most is holding hands with his first love in the hospital, sharing their feelings.

This isn't the first time I've seen Elizabeth, but it's the first time I've really looked at her.

Elizabeth is truly stunning, dressed in an exquisite Chanel suit, wearing YSL high heels, her curly hair perfectly styled, and that familiar scent of perfume wafting around her.

"Beth, what are you doing here? Didn't I tell you to rest at home?"

Zane hurriedly let go of Elizabeth's hand and stood up.

I smiled gently, trying to keep things polite.

The atmosphere suddenly became a bit awkward.

Elizabeth seemed surprised to see me and exclaimed, "Oh, Beth Taylor! Long time no see! I didn't even know you and Zane got married."

"I just got back from abroad and I'm not very familiar with things here. I just asked Zane to help me schedule a check-up at the hospital. You're not upset, are you?"

After saying this, Elizabeth smiled apologetically and quickly walked over to me. She took my hand and leaned in close to whisper, "You little vixen, you're just a fake; you should return what you stole from me."

I knew that from Zane's perspective, he couldn't see or hear what she was saying.

I clenched my hand tightly, my nails almost digging into my skin.

The next moment, Zane's voice broke the tension.

"Let's schedule it for tomorrow. The department head is my mentor; I'll feel more at ease if he examines you."

"Thank you so much! Dr. Smith is really considerate; the person who married you is so lucky!"

As she spoke, her gaze drifted toward me.

The moment Zane agreed to Elizabeth, I felt my face burning with embarrassment.

He was throwing verbal jabs at me, deliberately making me uncomfortable.

I turned to look at Zane, who was busy helping Elizabeth make an appointment, and softly said, "You can help her schedule it, but you can't help me, right?"

Zane didn't pick up on the sadness in my voice; even if he did, he wouldn't care.

He just paused for a moment, confused, and asked, "Didn't I tell you to make your own appointment a couple of days ago? Can't you handle something this small on your own?"

I didn't say anything, and tears began to well up in my eyes.

It's ridiculous that he can't help me schedule a check-up but can arrange for the department head to examine Elizabeth.

After three years of marriage, I finally realized that I have no status in Zane's heart at all; my feelings and my health don't matter.

I felt a deep sense of resentment; I want Zane to regret this, and I want him to pay the price for his actions!

That night, the rain poured down heavily, accompanied by thunder and lightning, while the wind rattled the windows.

As a light sleeper, I prepared to get up and pull the curtains shut.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The building swayed from side to side, and the chandelier flickered ominously.

An earthquake hit, and my husband, Zane, woke up.

He wrapped me tightly in his arms, soothing me with a gentle voice, "It's just an aftershock; don't be afraid. I'm here with you."

A wave of warmth washed over me.

After all these years of marriage, I knew Zane still cared for me.

Out of nowhere, Zane's phone rang, the melody sweet and inviting.

"If there is a destiny from above, I believe it must be you..."

The caller ID displayed "Elizabeth," complete with a heart emoji.

How intimate.

I didn't say anything, but I noticed Zane's expression shift for a moment when he saw who was calling.

I encouraged him, "It's okay, you can answer."

Once the aftershock passed, I leaned back on the sofa to rest.

Zane walked over to the balcony to take the call.

A minute or two later, he returned to my side, holding my hand and saying, "There was an earthquake, and Elizabeth is scared. She's not feeling well, so I need to go check on her."

I fought against my discomfort and replied, "Zane, can you please not go today? I'm scared too."

Zane stared at me in silence, as if I had done something terribly wrong.

His gaze was icy, filled with an unsettling chill.

Finally, he spoke, "Elizabeth doesn't have many friends in the country. I need to help her. Don't worry; I'll be back soon."

Not wanting to prolong the argument, I waved my hand dismissively and said, "You go ahead."

Zane hesitated for a moment but still walked out the door.

It was absurd that he would drive several kilometers to comfort another woman while neglecting his own wife during an earthquake.

The moment the door closed, I could no longer hold back and spat out a mouthful of blood.

I wiped my mouth with a tissue, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the trash can.

Zane didn't come back all night.

I curled up on the sofa, lost in thought about the countless memories from our years together.

How Zane and I first met?

Zane and I were high school classmates, along with Elizabeth.

Back in those days, Zane was quite the looker - tall, dark, and handsome. He also happened to be at the top of our class academically. However, he just didn't seem to click with anyone.

I think it was because Zane was so introverted and aloof. It was like Elizabeth was the only person who existed in his world.

Zane and I sat next to each other, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

I felt bad that his dad had ditched his mom for some other woman. I cringed every time I saw Zane's worn, hand-me-down clothes. And it broke my heart to know he often went hungry, having to work late nights just to make ends meet.

Elizabeth, the mistress's daughter, was the bane of Zane's existence.

She constantly bossed him around, bullied him mercilessly. There were times she even made him crawl around on all fours in front of the whole class like some kind of dog.

Zane was utterly powerless and humiliated in her presence.

I'd get so mad at Elizabeth's cruelty that I'd confront her time and again.

I fancied myself some kind of knight in shining armor, defending poor Zane's honor.

But I never understood why he put up with it all.

Why did Zane treat Elizabeth so well when she treated him like dirt?

What kind of person falls for their own tormentor?

Back then, my own loving parents were still alive. I still believed I could be Zane's savior, just like the heroines in the romance novels I read.

But I forgot - the favored girl always gets the guy. The one who pines in vain is just the villainess.

Dawn had broken, and the tremors had long since subsided.

Yet, Zane still hadn't returned home.

I knew he had been unfaithful, both emotionally and physically.

After a trip to the hospital, I came back to find Zane already waiting for me.

He had brought back some famous local delicacies from the West Side.

As soon as I walked through the door, he pulled me into a tight embrace.

"Beth, I missed you so much."

I stiffened. Was he calling me Beth or Elizabeth? Did he even know the difference himself?

Zane nuzzled into the crook of my neck. "Beth, it got so late last night with the earthquake. I ended up sleeping in the car."

I replied flatly, "It's fine, I understand."

You drove miles away to see her for a few seconds of aftershocks, yet you didn't spare a single word of concern for me.

"Beth, once things settle down, let's get out and have some fun to make up for missing our honeymoon, okay?" he said.

"I'm not going anywhere. My birthday's coming up soon. Will you watch the fireworks with me?" I asked.

Lately, I'd been feeling worse and worse. The painkillers I took were stronger than ever, but they didn't seem to help much anymore.

The doctor had also given me a grim prognosis.

"Of course, Beth. We'll watch the fireworks together," Zane agreed.

He looked up at me, concerned. "Beth, you look so worn out. Not as pretty as before. Even your skin isn't as fair."

I held his gaze, hoping his medical background would clue him in to my deteriorating condition.

But he just shook his head. "Beth, you're too skinny. I don't like it. Don't just stay cooped up at home all the time. Get out and about."

I suddenly spoke up. "Zane, did you really mean what you said before?"

Zane paused. "What do you mean?"

I took a breath. "You said you saw how pitiful your mom was, how you hated mistresses. That's why you'd never cheat."

I pressed on. "Do you still stand by that?"

Zane froze, his muscles tensing up. An unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes. "Why are you asking this now?"

I smiled without answering.

"You'll always be my wife. Don't overthink things," Zane said.

He got dressed and headed out. I knew that was his answer.

I'd always be Mrs. Smith, but never the Elizabeth he loved. Maybe in his heart, I was the mistress who'd torn them apart all along.

Elizabeth had asked me to meet her at a cafe.

She looked absolutely stunning - Elizabeth had been the reigning beauty queen back in our high school days, and time had only enhanced her natural allure. Now dressed to the nines in her corporate power suit, she exuded a dazzling, almost intimidating presence.

In contrast, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious about my own disheveled appearance. The ravages of illness had left my cheeks sunken and hollow, my eyes bulging unnaturally. Even layers of makeup couldn't conceal the dark, bruise-like circles that ringed my eyes, making me look drained of all vitality.

As I took a seat across from her, Elizabeth got straight to the point. "You need to leave Zane."

I sipped at my coffee, the bitter liquid doing little to soothe my nerves. Some things never change - I still couldn't stomach the stuff.

Elizabeth pressed on, her voice dripping with condescension. "You know Zane always loved me back in high school. And now that I'm back, you little home-wrecking mistress need to step aside and let me have him!"

I frowned, setting down my cup. "And what makes you think you can just demand that?"

"Oh please," she scoffed. "You think you have what it takes to marry him? It's just because your name has 'beth' in it. You don't really believe that 'beth' is calling out for you, do you?" Elizabeth's lips curled into a cruel smile.

"No, in matters of the heart, it's all about who got there first. I came before you, so you can forget about being Mrs. Smith."

I gripped the ceramic mug so tightly my knuckles turned white, struggling to contain the surge of rage building inside me.

Before I knew it, I had flung the entire contents of my cup directly into Elizabeth's face.

"Aaah! What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she shrieked, leaping up from her chair.

Coffee dripped down her designer blouse and perfectly coiffed hair, leaving her looking utterly disheveled and humiliated.

The commotion drew the attention of every patron in the cafe.

Seeing all eyes on her, Elizabeth instantly transformed into a picture of wounded innocence, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over.

"Beth, how could you do this to me?" she whimpered.

I cut her off before she could continue her pitiful act.

"Save it. Zane has surgery today, so he won't be joining us."

"You willingly became a mistress, disrupting someone else's family. Pouring coffee on you is the least of it. Whether I'm here or not, you'll never be Mrs. Smith! I won't let you have your way."

Elizabeth dropped the act, angrily saying, "Beth, you couldn't beat me in high school, and it's the same now. I will get what I want, no matter what means I have to use!"

I smiled calmly and replied, "We'll see."

I returned home, my abdomen throbbing with unbearable pain, and the painkillers had lost their effectiveness. I curled up on the floor, tears streaming down my face uncontrollably.

Zane had once promised that he would always treat me well.

He was the one who said he wanted to marry me.

Zane came from a struggling background; after his parents divorced, they spent even less time with him.

During college, I stretched my living expenses to the limit, forcing myself to save half of it for Zane.

When Zane was in graduate school, I wrote papers to support his studies, not knowing how many nights I stayed up, ultimately helping him earn his degree.

On graduation day, Zane hugged me tightly and said, "Beth, I love you. Let's get married; I will take care of you for the rest of my life."

At that moment, I didn't understand why he called me Beth.

Now I realize that Beth is not Elizabeth; Beth can never compare to Elizabeth.

When Zane returned, I had already prepared myself.

I wore light makeup, deliberately applied lipstick, and spritzed on his favorite perfume.

Even though I was destined to be the loser in this marriage, I didn't want to lose in a way that was too humiliating.

I was cooking when Zane hugged me from behind, resting his chin on my head.

"Honey, I love you."

Zane had never called me "honey," not once.

For all these years, he had always referred to me as Beth.

A woman's intuition is usually spot on.

I caught a whiff of Zane's familiar cologne, and this time it was particularly strong.

Suddenly feeling nauseous, I turned to glare at him. "Zane, what did you do?"

"Honey, you have to believe me; I didn't do anything. I love you."

I was so furious that my whole body shook. Zane was defending himself, guilt written all over his face.

I instinctively placed my hand on my lower abdomen but quickly dropped it.

I could no longer hold back; covering my mouth, I ran to the bathroom to vomit.

I hadn't eaten properly in a long time; I could only force myself to take a bite or two, and even when I vomited, there was hardly anything to come out—just a continuous stream of blood.

Zane chased after me.

"Beth! Please let me explain! It's not what you think; I love you."

How ridiculous! I hadn't even said anything, and he was already panicking to explain. If he wasn't guilty, then what was going on?

Zane kept knocking on the bathroom door, trying to get me to listen.

"Beth, I really do love you. I've just been too busy lately and neglected you."

"Don't be upset. Elizabeth doesn't have many friends here, and I need to help her. You know there's nothing between us."

"I know Elizabeth has reached out to you, but I've moved on from her. I have you now, and you will always be Mrs. Smith; that will never change."

When I finally composed myself and opened the door, Zane was still standing there.

He looked at me cautiously, like a little dog afraid of upsetting its owner.

The urgency in his eyes didn't seem fake.

I stared at him, unable to understand how someone could cheat and still claim to love me.

I felt so resentful; even if I were to die, Elizabeth and Zane shouldn't be able to be together without any guilt.

In the days that followed, Zane treated me exceptionally well, even seeming a bit overly cautious.

Every day after work, I rush home.

When I arrive, Zane is always there, preparing my favorite meals, occasionally bringing a bouquet of flowers, and picking up my favorite desserts. He spends so much time with me, making sure I feel loved.

But today, I got home a bit late, and Zane was already sitting at the dining table, waiting for me.

I didn't plan to explain anything to him, but as I walked past, he grabbed my wrist.

"Beth, why are you back so late? Are you okay?"

He pulled me into an embrace, kissing my earlobe and then my neck.

But just the thought of how he and Elizabeth are flirting, how tangled their relationship is, makes me feel sick.

I suddenly shiver, my whole body trembling.

"I'm tired; you should go take a shower."

Zane didn't seem to notice my discomfort and went to the bathroom. While he was showering, I took his phone; it was the first time I had looked at it.

I started scrolling through his messages with Elizabeth.

As I read through their chats, I realized they had talked a lot.

Most of their conversations were about everyday things—like the weather that day, the evening breeze, and the moon at midnight.

They chatted more in one day than Zane and I had in a month.

Elizabeth's social media was filled with posts about a man who would pick her up from the airport, take her home, bring her flowers, cook for her, and even drive miles to be by her side during an earthquake.

Though that man had never shown his face, I knew it was Zane; he was still wearing the custom wedding ring we had made together.

Zane is really busy, juggling the need to deceive me while also loving her.

Lying in bed at night, I couldn't help but reflect on everything.

I kept replaying their chat records in my mind, thinking about every word Zane had said and how gentle he was with her.

In the stillness of the night, it felt like a knife, slicing through my heart again and again.

"Elizabeth, I miss you."

"Zane, I'm going back to the country."

...

"Is there still a chance for us?"

"Zane, there was an earthquake; I'm so scared. Can you come find me?"

...

"Let's go watch a movie tonight."

Finally unable to hold it in, I rushed to the bathroom and threw up violently.

I stroked my belly, thinking to myself.

Zane, I want to give you and Elizabeth a big gift after I'm gone.

Our relationship has been on the mend lately.

The clearest sign is Zane coming home more often and us being more intimate in bed.

If it weren't for those tangled romantic entanglements, I'd still cherish this time so much. But good things never last, do they?

Today's my birthday.

Zane took a rare day off work to get everything ready at home early.

Mood lighting, music, fresh flowers, delicious food - he made it all so romantic. There were even two tickets to that music festival on the table.

"Beth, I love you. Happy birthday!" he said.

"After dinner, we'll go watch the fireworks together."

Zane pulled me close and we danced. Under the dim, flattering lights, he leaned in and kissed me. It was perfect timing.

Then my phone blared out the earthquake warning.

[Beep, beep, 10, 9, 8, ...]

At the same time, Elizabeth's call came through.

"Zane... I'm so scared. Please come protect me?" she sobbed.

I could just picture her lying there crying, the world falling apart around her.

Now was the hero's cue to rush in and save the day.

Zane glanced at me, and in that one look I knew - he was going to her.

"There's an earthquake. I have to go to her," he said.

What he doesn't know is that I'm about to die.