In the beginning, Dewitt and I were deeply in love.

In my first year of college, my mother was diagnosed with a serious illness.

At that time, my only wish was for my mother to survive. I was desperate to make money, working four jobs a day, even at the cost of abandoning my studies.

When my mother found out, she cried and refused to see me.

I had no choice but to return to college, but I continued working whenever I wasn't in class.

My mother's medical bills were astronomical to me.

Later, when the college learned about my situation, they started a fundraiser for me.

Dewitt generously donated all the money I needed, even giving more than what was required.

"Thank you."

He was a busy man, and it took me a while to find him to express my gratitude with a deep bow.

At that time, Dewitt was full of vigor. His composed and confident demeanor left a lasting impression on me.

I quietly remembered his kindness, resolving to repay him one day.

Even after that, I continued to work whenever I could.

After that, Dewitt and I didn't cross paths much. But one day, while I was working at a restaurant, I suddenly lost control of my hand holding a tray.

Looking back, I realize that this was the first sign of my illness slowly manifesting.

The sauce from the tray spilled all over the customer.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

The customer was a rough-looking man.

"I'm so sorry, sir, I really didn't mean to. I apologize sincerely. I can pay for the damages."

It was my first time dealing with a situation like this, and I was incredibly flustered.

I frantically tried to wipe the man's clothes while apologizing repeatedly.

"Pay for it? Do you have any idea what brand this suit is? Can you afford it?"

Tears blurred my vision, and I didn't dare to speak, silently enduring his berating.

After he had his fill of scolding me, he said, "Alright, I can be reasonable."

Hearing this, I saw a glimmer of hope.

"I have just one condition," that man said.

"Sure. As long as it's something I can do, I'll agree."

He grinned at me, then grabbed my hand and, with a lascivious smile, said, "If you spend one night with me, I won't make you pay."

I was stunned for a moment and then slapped him subconsciously.

"You little bitch. How dare you hit me!"

What followed was the clichéd damsel-in-distress scene.

Dewitt stepped in front of me, delivering a punch that sent the man sprawling on the ground.

The whole situation had been my fault. I handed all my money to the man, then grabbed Dewitt and fled.

"Thank you, Dewitt."

He had helped me again.

"Didn't I give you enough money? Why are you still working?"

Though he was asking a question, his tone carried a hint of anger.

"It's enough, but I can't just take your money for nothing. I'll repay you someday."

He chuckled.

"Do I look like I'm short of money?

"Well, if you really feel that guilty, I have a condition too."

Hearing the word "condition" made me nervous, and I stole a glance at him.

He flicked my forehead lightly.

"What are you thinking? I heard your mom's a great cook, so I guess you must be good at it, too.

"Come to my place and handle my meals. Consider it repaying the debt."

I stared at him in surprise.

"Is it really that simple?"

"Are you agreeing or not?"

He smiled at me. Back then, I felt he looked just like an angel.

"Yes, I agreed!"

I nodded enthusiastically.

Later, we fell in love over time.

At least, that was how I thought our love story began. Dewitt told me he had liked me long before that.

We were like any other couple, enjoying life together.

Later, when a car was out of control and rushed towards us, he pushed me out, but he was injured.

At that time, I felt that the feeling of being loved wholeheartedly by someone was really wonderful.

However, our happiness was fragile.

We were in love for four years. After graduation, he planned an extravagant proposal for me.

But on the day he proposed, I was diagnosed with the same illness as my mother.

"Allyson, will you marry me?"

Dewitt knelt down on one knee, presenting the carefully chosen ring in front of me.

His eyes sparkled, filled with hope and happiness.

The lights around us twinkled in the night. The atmosphere that evening was incredibly romantic.

"Say yes. Say yes!" the crowd around us chanted.

We had been together for four years, and many had witnessed our love story. At that moment, we were surrounded by the cheers and blessings of our friends.

I cried. I wanted to say yes, but I knew that doing so would only hold him back.

So, under the gaze of all those people, I refused.

The cheers abruptly stopped. Everyone looked at each other in shock. Dewitt's face showed disbelief.

Despite the awkward situation, after sending all the guests away, he gently and tenderly pulled me into his arms.

"What's wrong? Did something happen? Tell me, we can face it together."

Before he could finish, I interrupted him.

"I fell in love with someone else."

"I don't believe you. If you're troubled by something, you have to tell me. We can work it out together. Don't leave me, Allyson. You promised we'd spend our lives together."

As he spoke, this nearly six-foot-three man buried his head in my shoulder.

I felt a warmth on my shoulder. I realized that he was crying.

My heart ached as if it were being cut with a knife, but even in great pain, I pushed him away.

After that night, I began to avoid him.

He kept trying to find me. In desperation, I found someone to pretend to be my boyfriend.

"Don't bother me anymore. You're making a fool of yourself."

With each word I said, his eyes grew redder.

Suddenly, the man pretending to be my boyfriend kissed me on the cheek.

Before I could react, Dewitt rushed forward, pinning the man to the ground and beating him.

I jumped in, hugging the man.

"Dewitt, have you lost your mind? What right do you have to hit him?"

I questioned him, but as soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. He stared at me intensely as if he wanted to kill me.

After a few minutes of tense silence, he turned and walked away.

Watching his back, I vaguely felt that we were completely over.

After that, he didn't show up for a long time.

Someone sent me photos of him, drunk out of his mind, telling me to come pick him up.

I blocked his friends' numbers one by one, determined to cut off all contact with him.

After all, only by doing this could he forget me sooner after I died.

However, I soon realized I had underestimated his feelings for me.

Back then, my mother's condition worsened. She was only alive thanks to the expensive medical treatments.

Dewitt found me, threatening that unless I married him, he would withdraw all of my mother's medical equipment and doctors.

He stood in front of me, his eyes devoid of love, only an undisguised hatred.

"What's the point of doing this? I've told you. I don't love you anymore."

He bit down hard on my lip.

"Allyson, even in death, you'll die by my side."

After being together for so long, I felt that no one knew him better than I did.

Though he tried to appear menacing, I knew that if he truly hated me, there was no way he'd still want to marry me.

So I created a bunch of fake photos of me with other men in bed and threw them in his face.

He tore the photos into shreds, the pieces drifting down like snowflakes.

After that day, Dewitt became a completely different person.

Even though we were married, he never came home.

His scandals with various actresses continuously made headlines.

The first time I saw these news articles, I hid in a park corner and cried.

But as these reports became more frequent, I gradually grew numb.

I knew my days were numbered, and I was the one who hurt him first, so I felt I had no right to be sad.

One night, he came home drunk with a woman in tow.

"Mr. Larson..."

The woman was pressed against the sofa by him, her resistance half-hearted.

Though I had grown accustomed to seeing such news, witnessing it firsthand still broke my heart.

Later, I found out I was pregnant.

I called him.

"When will you be home tonight? I have something to tell you."

His tone was indifferent when he talked to me on the phone, but he came home unusually early, bringing my favorite strawberry cake.

In the past, when I was angry, he would always bring this to cheer me up.

I took a spoonful and put it in my mouth. Though it was from the same store and the same cake, it seemed to taste different.

As I ate, tears streamed down my face.

He held me tightly.

"Can we live a peaceful life together from now on?" he asked cautiously, afraid I would refuse.

I didn't know how to answer, so I remained silent.

"I saw the pregnancy test in the bathroom. We're having a baby, aren't we?" he asked.

In all the time I'd known Dewitt, it was the first time I saw such excitement and happiness on his face.

I had intended to tell him everything, but seeing his reaction, I suddenly calmed down.

I suddenly realized that if I died in the short future, and our baby died too, the happier he was now, the more it would hurt him later.

"I won't have your baby."

I used all my strength to keep my voice steady.

"There are plenty of women willing to have your child. You don't need me."

He grabbed my shoulders in disbelief.

"You're lying to me, aren't you? Just say the word, and I'll break off with all those women immediately. Please, say you love me."

The once confident, proud man was now begging me to accept his love.

However, I knew I couldn't waver.

From that day on, he never came back.

When I woke up in the hospital, Dewitt was already gone.

I realized he didn't want to see me.

I thought it was for the best. After all, he would get rid of me soon. I was dying, maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after.

If my condition worsened quickly, we might not even get to see each other one last time.

We had secretly married, so very few people knew about our marriage.

He publicly announced he would marry a sweet, innocent-looking girl. At that moment, my heart monitor flatlined.

When I was dead, I watched the news about the story between him and that girl. Though it was through a screen, it counted as seeing him one last time.

My spirit involuntarily drifted to his side. He was smiling happily, just like when we were in love.

But when he heard about my death, he left the girl and rushed to my hospital bed.

"Allyson, you must be lying again. You're not really dead, are you? If you wake up, I'll agree to a divorce. Otherwise, you'll never get rid of me. Please, wake up."

"Even in death, you're still tormenting her. She's really had it rough."

The man who was talking was the man I had asked to pretend to be my "boyfriend" in college, Duncan Barrett. He had continued to play that role until my dying day. Having collaborated over so many years, we had become friends.

Seeing Duncan, Dewitt's emotions flared up.

"It's you. It's all your doing. You made her lie to me. She's not really dead."

He grabbed Dewitt's collar.

"What's the matter, Mr. Larson? You have time to flirt with other women but no time to check on your wife's condition?"