I Have Cancer, But My Boyfriend Doesn’t Know He once gave up his dream university for me. He also rushed to another woman at a car accident scene, leaving me injured behind. I died on the day he was setting off fireworks abroad with his female secretary. On the day I found out there was a tumor in my brain, Lucas proposed to me. My mind was in chaos. For a moment, I suspected he knew everything. After hesitating for less than thirty seconds, he stood up from the ground, put the ring box back in his pocket, and glanced at me with an indifferent look. “It’s my parents’ request. If you don’t agree, forget it.” I felt a sense of relief. As expected. He was always fond of joking with me. I guess this time he also thought I was using his parents to pressure him into marriage. So he came up with this proposal to humiliate me. I silently put down my outstretched hand and smiled at him, “What if I agree? Will you marry me?” He looked at me without saying a word. The answer couldn’t be clearer. To be honest, it was quite hurtful. “If you don’t marry me now, you might not have the chance in the future,” I said huffily, suppressing the heat in my eyes. Lucas was unfazed. He took off his jacket and placed it on the back of the sofa, with a hint of sarcasm at the corner of his mouth, “Are you sure that day will come?” He was always prophetic. Indeed, I wouldn’t live to see that day.
At night, I sat on the bed lost in thought. Lucas closed his laptop, closed his eyes to relieve his sore eyes for a moment, then got up and lifted the covers to get into bed. He habitually turned his back to me, leaving enough space between us to fit a pillow. Sleeping posture never lies. We’ve been together for eight years, yet he still can’t get used to sleeping in the same bed with me. I’ve always been thick-skinned in front of him. Even if he’s unwilling, I would sneak over when he’s asleep, press tightly against his back, and hug his waist. Even our first time was something I begged for shamelessly. At that time, I was twenty years old. I vaguely remember it was raining heavily that day. The dense raindrops pattered against the window panes, and the air was cold and damp. I took off my little jacket and slowly walked towards him… Hugged him. And he stood still without moving. The waist under a man’s white shirt was so thin and narrow. Unlike me, his body temperature was very high. I was trembling all over with shame, thinking that if he rejected me, I might just want to die. I looked up and smiled at him with all my might, but tears blurred my vision. At that time, I was so afraid of hearing words like “shameless,” “cheap,” or “disgusting” from his mouth. After all, I was still a young girl, with mindless courage but no ability to bear the consequences. He looked at me coldly. As if he would push me away the next moment. I fumbled with his buttons with shaking hands, my legs trembling so much I could barely stand. “What are you doing?” he asked. I stammered, unable to speak. He lowered his head and kissed me, with a bitter taste mixed with tears, “You don’t even know how to seduce someone, silly.” I smelled a faint scent of alcohol. His girlfriend had moved on to someone else, and he was in a bad mood. I took advantage of the situation, and from then on, he had a piece of flypaper he couldn’t shake off. In the pitch darkness, I stared at the vague outline of the chandelier on the ceiling. Perhaps when death is approaching, one’s mindset becomes more peaceful. The person I once wasted my youth chasing after, the feelings I once tore my heart out for, now seem less important than whether I can see tomorrow’s sunrise.
When I woke up the next morning, the early sunlight fell on my face, causing me to feel a bit confused. The doctor said the tumor might be pressing on my optic nerve, so it takes me a while to focus when I look at things now. Lucas was leaning against the headboard reading a financial magazine. In the past, when we lazed in bed together on weekends, I would cling to him like a koala, with at least one of my limbs on his body. This was an unconscious reaction of my body. Lucas looked down, “Awake?” I smiled at him, “Good morning.” He glanced at my shoulder, with an indecipherable look, “You slept quite obediently last night.” I still smiled. He suddenly frowned slightly, “What nonsense were you talking about in your dream just now?” I touched my face, it was wet. Did I cry? Worried that he would delve deeper, I sat up halfway and looked at him seriously, “I dreamed that I went to Norway and saw snow and the Northern Lights.” “I really want to go.” “Can we?” I looked at him pleadingly, with a hint of begging. Lucas ignored me, “No time.” I opened my mouth, then slowly smiled, “Alright then.” Perhaps my reaction was too calm, he turned his head and looked at me for a while, then said indifferently, “How about next March? I can’t make time this year.” I nodded. We should still have time.
Actually, I dreamed of twelve-year-old Lucas. He wasn’t like this before. He used to be a very good brother. I was born picky with food, disliking this and that, but afraid of being scolded by adults. He could eat what I left without any disgust. Unlike now, when he won’t touch a water glass I’ve drunk from. When I was bullied at school, had my hair pulled, and my homework scribbled on, he was always the first to stand up for me, beating up those annoying boys, explaining to the teachers for me, and giving me his new notebooks. I was very introverted as a child, and from a single-parent family. Without his protection, I probably would have been severely bullied. Later, when my mom died, I cried until I nearly fainted. I said, “No one wants me anymore.” He said, “That’s not true.” I repeated, and he repeated. I sat on the ground crying all night, and he comforted me all night despite his toothache. The next day, his whole cheek was swollen. After that, I told him I liked him and threw myself at him half-naked. His face was cold. He said I was being cheap.
On Monday at work, Lucas left his spare phone at home, so I went to his company to deliver it to him. On the way, someone called. I looked at the contact name: Z Z. How intimate. All these years, he has only ever called me by my full name. Vivian, Vivian. When my mom named me, she probably hoped I would live a peaceful and worry-free life. Regrettably, I got brain cancer before turning 30, failing to live up to her expectations. Come to think of it, my family has a history of tumors. My mom, my aunt, and my great-grandmother all died of cancer, and they all passed away very young. When I arrived at the company, Zoe stopped me, distant but polite, “The CEO is in a meeting, please wait for a moment.” Zoe was his university classmate and became his secretary after graduation. She handles all of Lucas’s affairs, big and small. The two of them spend more time together every day than I do with Lucas. What bothers me is that they dated briefly during university. Although it wasn’t for long, it has always been a thorn in my heart. In Lucas and my shared social circle, everyone thinks I’m willful and possessive in front of him, not allowing any girl to get close to him. But I don’t dare to even suggest firing Zoe. I still vividly remember how reluctant Lucas was to break up with Zoe. At that time, Lucas was utterly dejected, looking at me coldly with an expression I had never seen before, “Do you only know how to use my parents to force me?” His voice was hoarse, and I even thought I saw tears in his eyes. Did he like her that much? That time, I was stunned for a long while. He’s usually so reserved, I had never seen him care about someone so much before. In the past, I might have thrown a tantrum, waiting until the meeting was over to see Lucas come out, then deliberately show affection in front of Zoe. But this time, I handed the spare phone to Zoe, asking her to return it to Lucas after the meeting. I nodded slightly to her and turned to leave. There was a hint of surprise on Zoe’s face.
Lucas’s parents moved back to their quiet old house after retirement. I go back to see them every month. But Lucas is reluctant to go. “My parents have always liked you more than me,” he said casually while reading a contract. “You can go by yourself.” My mom got pregnant before marriage, and I don’t know who my father is. Lucas’s mom and my mom were best friends. After my mom passed away, they raised me. I’m very grateful to them and have always tried to be well-behaved. You could even say I was trying to please them. Pleasing Aunt, pleasing Uncle, pleasing Lucas. Lucas doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents, and I’m a big part of the reason why. He doesn’t know that I’m actually the one who’s dependent on others. Back then, Lucas’s parents didn’t approve of him being with Zoe because they found out Zoe was being kept by someone at that time. When the photographic evidence was presented to Lucas, he didn’t care. Zoe had her reasons, he said. So Aunt, exasperated, pointed at me, “Rather than letting you go for those unsavory girls out there, why not choose Vivian? At least she’s a pure and innocent girl!” Lucas smiled faintly, “If you like her so much, why don’t you marry her yourselves?” Snapping out of my memories, I coaxed him, “Let’s go together, they’ll be happier.” Lucas’s tone remained unchanged, “As long as you’re happy.” I gave in. After looking at him for a while, I got up and took my bag, “There’s food in the kitchen, remember to eat.” He didn’t look up, “Okay, be safe on the road.” It takes a three-hour drive to get to the old house. I’m good with words, and within a few sentences, I had the old couple laughing heartily. I helped Aunt loosen the soil and fertilize, sowed radish seeds, and set up frames for the pea shoots. I worked up quite a sweat and unknowingly fell asleep on the stone table in the vegetable garden. When I woke up, it was already dusk. Uncle’s jacket was draped over me, and my arms had several mosquito bites. The sunset was as fierce as fire, carrying warmth. After dinner, it was time to leave. Aunt asked me to take good care of Lucas. I said I would. Uncle said, “Take care of yourself too, you look a bit haggard.” Sometimes tears can be triggered by such a casual show of concern. I held back the lump in my throat and smiled, “I won’t stay up late next time.” On the way back, I realized that I probably couldn’t drive alone anymore. The headaches were becoming more and more frequent.
Ryan is my attending physician. He suggested I be hospitalized for treatment, as the frequency of headaches might increase in the later stages, and some people even experience persistent epilepsy. I shook my head, “By that point, I would have probably taken my own life. You know I can’t stand suffering.” He frowned at me for a while, and finally sighed. I didn’t dare to drive, so he sent me home. On the way, Ryan looked at me through the rearview mirror, “He still doesn’t know?” He, obviously referring to Lucas. I made a sound of agreement, “I haven’t figured out how to tell him yet.” He was silent for a moment, “I can hardly imagine his reaction.” I laughed, “He’d probably be relieved that he’ll be free for the rest of his life.” The biggest regret in Lucas’s life must be touching me in his sophomore year. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been held responsible for me by both me and his parents. Ryan glanced at me and shook his head, “When I lied to him that you got drunk and agreed to be with me, and I happened to have your clothes from the night before on my arm, he misunderstood that something had happened between us and was furious.” I said, “He was angry because his parents were forcing him to break up with Zoe.” Ryan clicked his tongue, “Whatever you say.” The sky gradually darkened. As we passed by the sports square, a group of energetic young people were sweating it out on the basketball court. There was a moment of blankness in my eyes. “Stop for a bit,” I said to Ryan, “I don’t want to go back yet. Don’t you play basketball? I want to watch.” “Me?” Ryan hesitated, “I play table tennis, but I haven’t touched a basketball in years.” After my soft persuasion, Ryan rolled up his sleeves and reluctantly joined the game. He’s tall with long arms and legs, and after a bit of getting used to it, he didn’t drag the team down. A beautiful three-pointer, and I couldn’t help but cheer. Ryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to look at me proudly. Not far away, I saw a familiar figure. He was wearing a shirt and trousers, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, looking at the basketball court with a bland expression. I knew that on the outside of his arm, there was a long, ugly scar. That was left when he saved me in a car accident. A 20-centimeter wound, broken bones, steel pins. After that, due to nerve damage causing impaired finger movement, he could no longer play his favorite baseball or basketball. He couldn’t even hold a glass of water steady.
That hand once blocked a fatal flying stone that had broken through the windshield for me. I felt guilty about it for a long time. One game ended, and Ryan high-fived his teammates, walking towards me drenched in sweat. I handed him his jacket, “Let’s go.” He pouted, “We won, and I don’t even get a sip of water?” “I only have what I’ve drunk from.” He reached out, “Give it to me.” Lucas had left at some point. I hesitated, “Let’s go buy you some water.” When I got home, Lucas had already showered and was lying in bed wearing his pajamas. I showered, got into bed, and he turned off the lights. We didn’t speak all night. The next day, our planned weekend date suddenly had an extra person. “The company is planning to do an amusement park project, I’m bringing Zoe along to check out the site,” Lucas explained indifferently. I didn’t say anything. We walked for a while, and Zoe seemed to have caught a cold, coughing incessantly. Lucas frowned, “Why didn’t you say you were sick?” Zoe smiled, “I’ve had this cold for several days. I thought it would be fine after taking some medicine, but coming out in the wind made it worse.” Lucas took off his jacket and handed it to her. Zoe wrapped herself tightly in the jacket, “Thank you for your concern, boss.” It was an overcast day, and the wind was strong, showing no signs of letting up, making my face sting. Lucas found a coffee shop, but unfortunately, it was full at lunchtime with only seats by the door left. He let her sit in the seat against the wall, out of the wind. Perhaps due to the cold wind, my head started to ache again, and I broke out in a cold sweat all over. My legs went weak, and I instinctively grabbed Lucas’s arm. He looked down at me, “Are you sick too?” His tone couldn’t be described as caring. If anything, it had a hint of mockery. I struggled to stand steady, letting go of his arm, “I didn’t eat much breakfast, just a bit of low blood sugar.” He didn’t say a word. I said, “I’m going to the restroom.” He made a sound of acknowledgment. I turned around, took a deep breath, the headache making it almost impossible to think rationally, and something hot flowed out of my nose. A few customers coming towards me looked surprised. I had a nosebleed. I quickly covered my nose and mouth, lowering my head as I hurried to the restroom. After locking the bathroom stall door, I called Ryan to ask for treatment advice. The call went unanswered for a long time, and a wave of nausea came over me. I bent over the toilet and vomited until I was dizzy. The stomach acid burned my throat. After throwing up, my head didn’t hurt as much. I leaned against the wall, taking quite a while to recover. I splashed some cold water on my forehead, washed my face, and left through the coffee shop’s side door. When I came back, I found Zoe coughing quite badly, with Lucas gently patting her back. My eyes suddenly felt a bit sore. Probably out of jealousy. I walked over and put some ambroxol and cough syrup in front of her, “I asked at the pharmacy, they said these might help with the cough.” Zoe took them with some surprise, “Thank you, Miss Wu.” Lucas’s gaze remained focused on her, not sparing me even a glance. “You… don’t look too well either?” Surprisingly, it was Zoe who noticed something was off with me. Lucas’s gaze finally turned to me, slightly scrutinizing. I smiled, “My stomach’s a bit uncomfortable.” He said flatly, “Let’s go home early after we finish our snacks.” I nodded. In the car, Ryan called me back, “Sorry, I was just getting lectured by the chief and didn’t have my phone. What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” I glanced at Lucas in the driver’s seat and said softly, “Just a bit of stomach discomfort, wanted to ask you what medicine to take. It’s fine now, already better.” Ryan was silent for half a second, “Let’s talk when you get back then.” I couldn’t help but smile a little. He’s always been so smart. Lucas turned to Zoe, “I’ll take you to the hospital for an IV drip.” Zoe hesitated for a moment, then agreed. Lucas then looked at me through the rearview mirror, “What about you? Do you need to go to the hospital for a check-up?” I shook my head, “Just drop me off, I’ll take a cab home.” He had no reaction, “Suit yourself.” I looked out the car window at the passing scenery. Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder, if Lucas knew I was dying, would he regret treating me this way? But then I immediately realize, what does it have to do with him? It was my choice to keep it from him. A few minutes later, Lucas dropped me off at an intersection. Zoe looked at me with a slightly apologetic expression. The car quickly drove away. I stood there for a while, then hailed a cab.
I didn’t go home. I bought a pack of beer from a convenience store and went to the riverside, drinking in the river breeze. I didn’t intend to torture myself, only drinking half a can, holding the rest in my hand. Because I was afraid of the cold, I also bought a shawl from a roadside clothing store. Ryan once asked me why I didn’t tell my family about my illness. Before my mom died, I had been taking care of her. Her appearance on her deathbed, emaciated, with atrophied blood vessels, unable to even insert a needle, became my deepest impression of her. Whenever I recall it, it’s like a dark cloud pressing on my heart. In the middle of the night, that sense of despair and desolation of watching a loved one being tortured by illness lingers. My death doesn’t have to be like that. Rather than having them accompany me through futile treatments, witnessing me gradually becoming weak and unsightly, It’s better to let them remember me as healthy and beautiful. After that, Ryan can tell them that I passed away with dignity, that modern medicine is advanced, and that I didn’t suffer much. I stayed alone for a long time, hugging my knees and dozing off for a while. Before I knew it, it was almost dark. I opened my phone to find many missed calls. I randomly chose one to call back. Lucas’s tone was angry, as if he wanted to eat me alive, “I called you so many times, why didn’t you answer?” I was stunned for a moment before coming to my senses, instinctively feeling I had missed something, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He was silent for a while, his breathing heavy, as if trying to control his emotions, “Where are you?” I looked around, “Lakeshore Pier.” He said, “Stay there, don’t move. I’m coming to get you.” I wrapped the shawl tightly around me, obediently waiting for him where I was. Lucas arrived faster than I expected. After parking the car, he walked quickly to me, his gaze rapidly scanning me for any issues. After realizing I was fine, he calmed down. “What are you doing here?” he asked. I was about to answer when I sneezed. His expression darkened as he took off his jacket and wrapped it around me. I actually didn’t want it, considering this jacket had been on Zoe’s shoulders at noon. Faintly, I could still smell Zoe’s perfume. I followed behind him, secretly taking off the jacket. Lucas opened the car door and suddenly turned to look at me, frowning, “What’s wrong?” I said softly, “Zoe wore it.” I don’t want anything she’s worn. Call me petty if you want. I’m dying soon anyway, so I don’t need to be so understanding anymore, right? “Who said that?” He grabbed the jacket and wrapped it around me again, his brow relaxing, “Even if she did wear it, you still have to. Isn’t your body bad enough already?” In the car, he turned on the heater. I said, “It’s hot.” He said, “Serves you right.” 9 After that car accident, Lucas became very cautious when driving, taking over ten minutes to drive five kilometers. As we were entering the house, he suddenly grabbed my hand and lowered his head to smell the alcohol on me, “How much did you drink?” “One can.” He clearly didn’t believe me. I wanted to explain, but as soon as I opened my mouth, I sneezed several times in a row. He put his palm on my forehead to check my temperature, “Do you have a fever?” Maybe it was because I sneezed too hard, but something started flowing from my nose again. Lucas frowned, “What’s wrong with you?” I shook my head, covering my nose with my hand, “Maybe it’s just inflammation.” The blood gushed out like a poorly closed faucet. Lucas’s expression changed abruptly. He told me to tilt my head back and pinch my nostrils tightly, then went to the bedroom to find some medical cotton balls to stuff into my nostrils. He stared at me intently, his movements gentle and careful. The nosebleed gradually stopped, but my face and neck were sticky with blood. Lucas brought a warm towel to wipe me clean. When he wiped my chest, his hand paused slightly. I tugged at his sleeve, where there was a blood stain about the size of a spot, “It got on your clothes.” He didn’t mind, focusing on my face, his brows furrowing again, “You get a nosebleed just from sneezing, are you made of porcelain?” I nodded, frankly admitting, “I’m just relatively weak.” I was telling the truth. He looked me over, “Have you lost weight?” He could still remember my weight? Lucas went to the kitchen and cooked a fragrant bowl of noodles. Then he watched me eat the entire bowl. I hadn’t been this full in a long time. My belly was even a bit rounded, so full I couldn’t move. He brought pajamas and crouched down to change my shoes. As he lowered his head, his bangs covered his eyes, making him look patient and gentle. For a moment, I thought we had returned to the past. Back then, when I was malnourished due to being picky with food, he no longer indulged me and forcibly corrected my eating habits. Actually… there are many things I want to ask him. Back then, he had such good grades, he could have gone to a top five university in the country. Why did he stay at our mediocre school? At that time, he said it was because it was far from home, so he wouldn’t be bothered by his family. Was that the truth? Or was it because he was afraid I would be bullied if I went to school in another city alone? But in the end, I didn’t ask. Lucas received a phone call. He stood up and walked to the side, his tone and demeanor very gentle, “Mm, she’s been found.” Some things are destined by fate. If he hadn’t come to our school, he wouldn’t have met Zoe. Although Zoe later couldn’t withstand the pressure and ended up with another guy, after all these years, these two are still kindred spirits. Lucas, I don’t have much time left. After you accompany me through this last stretch, you’ll be free.
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