A week before my wedding, Maximo Alvarez's deceased wife's sister, who suffered from torrential rain syndrome, forced my car to a stop at the bridge railing.

I crashed into her eighteen times at high speed.

When Maximo arrived with the ambulance, I was being dragged out of a pile of scrap metal.

He, however, pulled aside a modified Hummer with only the bumper missing.

He held the trembling Matilda Philips in his arms.

"Mr. Alvarez, your fiancée's condition is not good; she needs to be taken to the hospital immediately."

Maximo stopped my stretcher, quickly scanning my body. 

"There's not a drop of blood on her, just superficial injuries. Matilda suffers from torrential rain syndrome and the rain is getting heavier; her condition will worsen. Take her to the hospital first."

As I was left behind, I curled up and struggled to grab Maximo.

He frowned and grasped my hand. "Matilda didn't hit you on purpose; she was just having an episode. You're a doctor too; you should be considerate of your patients."

After saying that, he pulled out a letter of understanding from his pocket, held my limp hand and signed it.

"The next ambulance will be here soon, just hang in there."

——

I didn't make it to the next ambulance.

When I opened my eyes again, I found myself floating in mid-air.

Cold rain poured down on my neglected body. I tried to reach out and hug myself.

But my arm passed right through it.

I smiled bitterly.

So, I was dead.

Maximo was right. I was a doctor, so I knew exactly what that meant.

At 50 km/h, eighteen consecutive backward movements followed by a violent impact.

Matilda never intended for me to live.

But as the head of internal medicine in Harold City, he could easily determine that I only had superficial injuries with just a glance.

I shouldn't have had any illusions.

When it came to Matilda, everything else became unimportant.

Including my life.

In the distance, the ambulance siren grew closer.

The doctor and nurses jumped out of the ambulance and rushed towards me in the pouring rain. I watched my limp, noodle-like body being lifted into the ambulance.

Amidst the doctor's screams, the constant injections of adrenaline and the fluctuating defibrillator, nothing could prevent the electrocardiogram from flattening out.

The doctor roared, "Call the traffic police to clear the way and speed things up! Get the hospital ready for surgery immediately; the patient's condition is critical."

But three calls the nurse made to the hospital were rejected.

Her eyes reddened with anger. "Why? Isn't Dr. Terra Mr. Alvarez's fiancée? How can he allocate all the resources to a woman who hasn't even scratched her?"

She choked back tears, unable to continue, "Dr. Terra is dying." 

The entire ambulance crew fell silent.

They all knew that in the hospitals under the Alvarez Group, a private, VIP ward was always reserved for Matilda.

She was the younger sister of Maximo's deceased wife after all.

Having witnessed her sister's brutal death while trying to save her in a torrential downpour, she developed severe "torrential rain syndrome" from that experience.

Every time it rained heavily, she would have a seizure and lose control; only Maximo could calm her down.

And I, her fiancée, because of Matilda's repeated interference, had to stand up ten times before we could get our marriage certificate.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "A drizzle triggers her seizure; a clap of thunder triggers her seizure—does she really only see you as her brother-in-law?"

Maximo was stunned when his hand struck me.

He looked away, his face stiff and said, "If you can't tolerate Matilda, this marriage isn't necessarily going to happen."

I looked at him, a sharp pain piercing my heart.

I desperately tilted my head back, trying to hold back my tears, but they still streamed down my face.

On the third day of Maximo's cold violence, I finally gave in and prepared a surprise for him.

But on my way to the hospital to find him, I was run over and killed by Matilda.

My memories were fragmented, I felt like I had forgotten something important.

But my body had already uncontrollably drifted to Maximo's side.

Inside the VIP ward, the room was so crowded with doctors in white coats that there was barely room to step.

"Mr. Alvarez, the test results show that Miss Philips's condition is fine, please don't worry."

Even though the experts present repeatedly assured her, Matilda remained huddled in Maximo's arms, her eyes red and trembling. 

"Max, it's raining so hard, there are bad people, I'm scared."

Maximo was about to say something when his phone suddenly rang.

It was a colleague from my department. Upon seeing the caller ID, Matilda suddenly screamed, snatched the phone and smashed it to pieces.

"Bad bitch! Terra is a bad bitch. She wants to kill me. Help me, Max, save me." 

Maximo could no longer care about his phone. He tenderly embraced the hysterical Matilda, constantly comforting her.

"Matilda, don't be afraid, Terra won't come. I won't let bad people hurt you..."

Matilda nestled in his arms, tightly hugging his neck, crying and laughing at the same time. 

"You can't leave, Max. Tell me you will always be with me. You are mine alone, right?”

“Yes, Terra stole you from me. Since she's a bad bitch, she wants me to die!"

"Yes, you’re right, she should die." Maximo patted her back, soothing her gently until Matilda had calmed down and fell asleep.

Back in his office, he took out his phone, that the screen cracked and unusable, from his pocket and wearily rubbed his temples.

He was about to dial the internal line to ask about my situation when a nurse rushed in. 

"Mr. Alvarez, an emergency surgery has just arrived. The patient was in a car accident and all her organs were shattered. We need you to come immediately."

Maximo was about to get up when he suddenly stopped. 

He asked, "What's the weather forecast for today?"

The nurse glanced at her phone. "Rain all day, predicted to last two days and two nights."

He nodded and went back inside.

"Contact Dr. Marlon. Tell him I have patients and can't leave. Cancel all my outpatient appointments for the next two days."

The nurse opened her mouth, then whispered, "But this surgery is so difficult; you're the only one who can successfully perform it."

Maximo suddenly said coldly, "Can't this hospital function without me? Get out! For the next two days, don't come to me for anything or anyone except Matilda's condition."

The nurse wanted to say something more, but ultimately left helplessly.

I huddled in a corner, blinking.

A warm liquid trickled down my cheek. It felt like blood, or maybe tears.

While I was squeezed into the car, I thought, ‘Maximo, this marriage, as you wished, never has to happen again.’

For the next two days, Maximo stayed by Matilda's side almost 24/7.

He was always there for her, showering her with care. Occasionally, in the quiet of the night, he would pull out his black-screened phone and tap a few times in vain.

I knew what he was thinking. 

Since I loved him more than anything, I never went two days without contacting him.

Even after every argument or cold war, I would always give in and apologize within half a day.

That feeling of being out of control annoyed him.

Pressing his throbbing forehead, he opened the drawer. The special migraine medicine I had personally learned to make from a traditional doctor was gone.

He immediately dialed the internal line.

Irritated, he asked, "Has anyone contacted me these past few days?"

The nurse replied, "You canceled all your appointments; no one has contacted you." 

Even though it was his own words, for some reason, a strange tightness gripped his heart.

He slammed the phone down.

He threw the black-screened phone and all into the drawer and pushed it back in forcefully.

As he passed the nurses' station, he paused, borrowed a nurse's phone and sent me a text message, [Terra, there's a limit to being dramatic. It was just a few light bumps, no blood at all, nothing serious. You dare act tough with me? If you're so capable, never contact me again.]

I walked beside him, my smile bitter.

My humble love had spoiled him so much.

He was always so certain that I couldn't live without him.

But this time, I truly wouldn't contact him again.

In the afternoon, the sky cleared and Matilda returned to normal, tearfully complaining, "Max, I really didn't know I'd lose control and bump into Terra during my episode.”

“I'll apologize to her. I'll do anything until she forgives me." 

Maximo replied flatly, "It's alright. It doesn't look serious, there's no blood at all, probably not even a scratch. You didn't do it on purpose, Terra will understand."

"But...but what if she calls the police and arrests me?"

Maximo smiled and patted her head, "Don't worry, I've already had her sign the letter of understanding. This has nothing to do with you anymore."

Matilda happily rubbed her cheek against his hand, her eyes full of dependence, "I knew Max was the best to me."

Maximo met her burning gaze, as if burned by something and abruptly withdrew his hand, "Matilda, I'm getting married to Terra soon. Don't call me Max anymore, if you're willing..." 

"Call me brother from now on. Terra will be your sister-in-law. We'll take care of you together." 

Matilda bit her lip, a fleeting glint of malice in her eyes, before quickly nodding obediently.

Outside the ward, two nurses gossiped.

"Mr. Alvarez treats his fiancée so well. She was only a little scared, yet he mobilized the whole hospital to check on her. They really are a perfect pair—handsome and beautiful."

"Yeah. And just two days ago, a car-accident victim came in with crushed organs and no one even showed up to identify the body. Life is so unfair."

Maximo frowned, his heart pounding inexplicably. He blurted out, "The woman inside isn't my fiancée."

He paused, then added, "My fiancée is Dr. Terra from the surgery department." 

Even Maximo himself was stunned by his words.

He was a chosen one, indifferent to right and wrong and utterly disdainful of explanation.

So much so that everyone in the hospital, except for a small group of colleagues in our respective departments, thought I was just a shameless, persistent simp he couldn't shake off.

I was given nicknames and had hot soup thrown on me by his admirers.

They cornered me in an empty restroom and dumped a bucket of toads on my head.

They gleefully enjoyed my screams and sobs, calling me shameless for dreaming of marrying a swan.

Countless times I hoped Maximo would step forward and explain, but he always impatiently dismissed me, "It's just a few words, it won't hurt you. If you're so dramatic, don't be a doctor."

But when a blunt intern commented that Matilda’s “torrential rain syndrome” seemed fake, the next day, that doctor vanished from the city entirely.

I realized then that he wasn't incapable of protecting people, it was just that the person worthy of his protection was never me.

Clutching my empty heart, I silently laughed through my tears.

How ironic. 

The title I couldn't obtain in life, no matter how hard I tried, was easily obtained after death.

Maximo ignored the nurses' astonished expressions, suppressing the panic in his heart and strode towards his office.