"Laura Hall! You can't delay your treatment anymore. You must get admitted to the hospital as soon as possible!"

A year ago, I was diagnosed with kidney failure but the effect of medication was detrimental to my health.

Being my best friend and attending doctor, Matt McKinley, finally gave me an ultimatum, "Forgive me for being too blunt, but if you keep being so stubborn about this, you'll only have no more than six months to live. At most!"

I held Matt's hand and coaxed him, "I know that, Dr. McKinley. From now on, I’ll take my treatment seriously."

After I left the hospital, I applied lipstick to hide how worn out I was, then rushed off to attend my grandmother-in-law's birthday celebration.

Although she was not my biological grandmother, rather she was my husband's, she loved me so much.

When we ate dinner, Grandma asked, "Laura, you and Connor have been married for five years, so when will you give me great-grandchildren?"

Connor McDavid, who was sitting beside me, responded calmly, "We’re working on it, Grandma. Don’t worry."

I nodded affirmatively, agreeing with his statement, though my heart ached. It was not that I did not want any children. No! However, I could not have them all by myself.

The birthday celebration went on late into the night and at the end, Grandmother instructed a servant to prepare a room for me and my husband to spend the night here.

As soon we entered the room, Connor immediately withdrew the arm he circled around my waist.

"There is only one bed in here. How are we going to sleep?" he lamented.

I pointed to the couch and said wisely, "I'll take the couch."

In the middle of the night, I heard Connor tossing and turning and his breathing labored. Worried about his condition, I asked, "Connor, what’s wrong? Are you sick?"

When he did not respond to my question, I got up and placed a hand on his forehead. At that moment I found out that he was burning up.

As soon as I turned on the bedside lamp, I noticed that Connor's cheeks were as red as a ripe apple and he furrowed his brows.

This reminded me of the last time he had a high fever. I had to stay by his side and nurse him back to his health all night long.

I filled the basin with warm water and prepared to wipe him with a wet towel to cool him off.

My finger had only touched the first button of his when he shoved my hand away harshly.

"What are you doing?" he demanded with blazing eyes.

I said, "You have a fever. I just want to help you to lower your body temperature."

"Who’s got a fever?" He yanked the blanket over his lower half and covered himself completely.

I stated patiently, "Your body temperature is high enough to fry an egg. If you bundle yourself like that, you'll end up getting worse."

Then I reached out my hand again with the wet tower, trying to press it against his collar.

"Get away from me!" He pushed me forcefully.

His shove made me stumble backward and knocked over the water basin, making my hair and clothes drenched with water.

However, seeing my wet and disheveled state, Connor did not have any sympathy for me at all. He sneered, "Stop acting, Laura. Do you really think this little trick of yours will make me want to touch you?"

When I saw the furry in his eyes, I suddenly recalled what Grandma had whispered to me earlier, "Connor is so useless. Let me help you two."

So, it wasn’t a fever after all, but it must be the result of the drug that Grandma had given him.

Without looking at me again, he walked past me and went straight to the bathroom.

Icy cold-water droplets dripped down my hair, falling one drop after another, like my bleeding heart.

This was her marriage. This was the man she had loved for nine years.

My feelings for Connor had begun in the first year of my university day. I had longed for his love for four years and not once had I confessed my true feelings to him. I had never imagined that at the graduation banquet in our senior years, Conner had publicly declared his love for me.

Our relationship's progress, from dating to marriage, like the speed of lightning. It was so fast that I made my head reeling.

However, it was not until our wedding that I discovered he had lied to me. Connor had a childhood sweetheart, the one love that he longed for, who had to leave for America after college. Connor wanted to inherit his family business so he could not follow her and, in the end, he had to end their relationship.

He told me the truth, that the reason he publicly confessed his love to me was because he was angry with his fate.

On the night of our wedding, he finally confessed that he could never forget his ex-girlfriend so in order to make his grandmother's mind at ease he had to stay married to me for the time being.

He then proposed to set a married contract. In it, we agreed not to interfere with the other's personal life and we could love whoever we wanted as long as it did not reach the media.

Despite everything he had said, I was still hopelessly in love with Connor. I was sure that one day I could win his heart.

For five years, I did everything I could to take care of him and became a model wife that everyone admired. I believed even the hardest stone would soften in my warmth. Yet, Connor still did not love me. He kept pushing me away every single time, just like he had done the night before.

The following morning, Connor told his grandmother that he had an urgent matter at the company and left me behind.

When he finally returned home, it was already late at night.

As soon as I opened the front door, my nose was assaulted with a heavy strong of alcohol. I held up the drunken Connor and asked, "Why did you drink so much?"

The friend who had brought him home chimed in, "Today, we held a welcome party for one of Connor’s old friends. He got a bit carried away celebrating. Please don’t be upset."

"Who is this friend's name?" I asked.

"Oh, I think she was called … Kelly. Kelly Lawson. You probably don't know her," he added.

I forced a smile and shook my head then helped Connor to enter our bedroom.

How could I not know Kelly? I know that name too well.

I had once stumbled upon a bundle of letters in Connor’s drawer, each one of them addressed to “Kelly Lawson.”

I was curious because almost no one still wrote letters these days. So, I opened the letter one by one and was surprised to find that page after page filled with Connor's delicate handwriting. Each letter was brimming with his love for Kelly. There were one hundred and fifty letters in total.

Now, Kelly had returned. Connor's "person he longed for" had come back.

I endured the headache in my heart as I covered Connor with a blanket.

The man's eyes tight shut. His handsome face flushed from alcohol and his mouth whispered with a barely audible sound, "Kelly …."

I smiled bitterly and went back to my own bedroom. Then I opened my WhatsApp and read the messages my best friend had sent me a few hours ago.

Matt wrote, "Have you made the decision yet? When will you start the dialysis treatment?"

I knew perfectly well the side effects of dialysis treatment, that I might lose my hair, become irritable and turn into the shadow of my former self.

I then wrote, "I've made my decision. I'm going to stay with the medication for a little bit longer."

If this would be the last time for me to be with Connor, I wanted to leave him with the memory of the best of myself.

I took out a piece of blank paper and wrote the title on the top "Bucket List".

The first item on the list was to raise seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

I became an orphan when I was three years old and grew up on social welfare and the kindness of strangers.

I was so grateful for their help and often thought that without their help, I would not be able to attend university or meet Connor. So, I planned to donate the money I raised to help underprivileged children. It had always been my dream and it was time to make it happen.

The next day, while Connor was at work, I sorted through the boxes and mailed them to the children in a remote mountain region.

I took my luxury shoes and bags to a second-hand shop for consignment. The money I saved up would be donated in Connor's name. It would be one single generous contribution to the children in the mountainside.

Meanwhile, Connor had settled Kelly into his villa on the outskirts of the city.

Five years ago, Kelly was a wealthy young lady. She had to move to America because her parents wanted to expand their business there.

Fifteen years ago, when the McDavid family business was in trouble, it was the Lawson Family who had stepped in to help them out.

Connor had never expected that in just a mere five years, the Lawson Family's investments would fail, leaving them bankrupt and drowning in debt. Now, he had become the esteemed CEO of the McDavid Group, while Kelly was known as a woman who ran from her debtors.

He felt pity and regret for her predicament and he figured, morally and emotionally, that he should assist the Lawson Family.

So, with a bolt stroke of his pen, he took over all of the Lawson Family's debts.

As it was getting late, Connor was ready to leave. However, suddenly Kelly tugged at his sleeve and with a voice trembling with fear, she said, "Connor, don't go … I'm scared …."

“What’s there to be scared of? We’re in our home country,” he reassured her.

"I'm truly frightened. When I was abroad, those people often came to our house at night to demand money to pay our debts. If we couldn’t pay, they would break things and hurt us …” As she spoke, she curled up into Connor's embrace. “Connor, I was really scared of being beaten.”

Is this really the same proud Kelly as before? Connor wondered. Seeing her distress, Connor felt uneasy and agreed to stay there for a while.

Back at home, I waited until eleven at night, but still no sign of my husband. The dinner that I had prepared with my own hand for him had grown cold after I warmed it over and over again. It seemed today's dinner ended up in the trash again.

Just then, a stranger’s number sent her a friend request on Instagram. The nickname was "Dream," and the profile picture was of a beautiful woman.

The first person I thought of was Kelly. And sure enough, after I accepted the request and opened the friend's Instagram, I saw Connor's silhouette.

He had removed his suit jacket, his white shirt’s sleeves rolled up high and he was wearing an apron while busy in the kitchen. It was accompanied with a caption that read, “Finally getting to eat authentic Chinese food again. It feels great to be home and to be cared for.”

After five years of marriage, I was shocked to learn that my husband could cook.

I still remembered the first time I cooked after our marriage. At that t time had prepared dinner and eagerly greeted Connor with a smile. However, he frowned and pushed me aside. "I can't stand the smoke smell."

I was embarrassed then I sniffed my sleeve trying to find the smell of oil. From that moment on, every time I cooked, I would take time to shower before sitting down to eat with him.

Yet, that cold man was willing to cook a meal for someone else tonight.

I managed to give a small smile and liked the Instagram Feed post.

Connor only came home after three days and the first thing he did when he got home was to toss a limited-edition handbag at my feet angrily.

“What do you mean by this?” he snapped.

I picked up the handbag, dusted it off and explained, "I don't use this expensive bag too often. Isn’t it better to sell it to someone who needs it and let it serve its purpose?”

“This was a gift for you! If you don’t like it, you can throw it away, but why sell it?” asked Connor angrily.

I did not understand why he was so angry about this.