Henry brought a woman home and ordered me to cook for them. The woman giggled, nestling in his arms. “Honey, who is she?” “Her? The housekeeper,” Henry replied dismissively, looking at me. I clutched my stomach and limped into the kitchen. Henry, this will be the last meal I cook for you. After three years of marriage, Henry and I had become bitter enemies. He had someone else in his heart. I was drugged and sent to his bed, and by cruel coincidence, his true love Zoe saw us. The shock sent Zoe running out, where she was hit by a car and died. Later, when I became pregnant, Henry proposed with bloodshot eyes. On our wedding day, he gripped my throat and hissed, “Aria, you’ll spend your whole life atoning for this!” I became Mrs. Grant in name only. In our first month of marriage, Henry crushed my family’s company, forcing my parents to move to low-income housing. In the second month, I lost my first child. Henry felt a twinge of guilt but quickly found another woman to vent his frustrations, complaining about my weak body. This is our third year, and I’ve been diagnosed with lymphoma. Years of emotional suppression and stress had taken their toll. By the time the illness found me, it was already in the late stages. Looking at the diagnosis report, I felt relieved. Death would finally bring peace, wouldn’t it? Coming out of the kitchen, Henry glanced at the three dishes and soup on the table with disdain. “Is this even edible?” I remained silent, taking a bite of each dish to show him it was fine. But a sudden wave of nausea made me cover my mouth and rush to the bathroom, throwing up everything. The pain was excruciating, and my nose started to itch. Seeing the blood in the toilet, I felt dizzy. By the time I cleaned up and came out, they had already gone upstairs. This was Henry’s new girlfriend for the month, bearing a striking resemblance to Zoe. Who would have thought that it was Zoe’s family who drugged me that night? The intended target wasn’t Henry, but Zoe’s brother. Somehow, they entered the wrong room, though Henry never believed me. Taking a deep breath, I went upstairs. Laughter echoed from the master bedroom. Not wanting to disturb them, but running out of time, I had no choice but to knock. A furious shout came from inside: “Get lost!” I flinched but persisted. Henry finally snapped, flinging the door open with a menacing look in his eyes. Behind him on the king-sized bed, the woman wore only revealing lingerie, looking seductive. “Aria, do you have a death wish?” Henry snarled. I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. “Would you be sad if I died?” “You’d be better off dead! If there’s nothing else, get out of here!” I blocked the door. “There is something. Once you sign this, I’ll leave.” I handed him the divorce papers I had prepared. He barely glanced at them before throwing them back at me. The sharp edge of the paper cut my eyebrow, making me wince in pain. “Want a divorce? Keep dreaming! You haven’t finished atoning for your sins!” “Since you won’t leave, come in and watch!” He yanked me inside. Right in front of me, he tore off the woman’s last shred of modesty and started kissing her passionately. I turned away, feeling my insides churning violently. Unable to hold back any longer, I doubled over and vomited again. Henry’s brow furrowed, his actions coming to an abrupt halt. Before he could explode in anger, I covered my mouth and ran out. The salty, metallic taste in my mouth was becoming hard to disguise. If he had been more attentive, he would have noticed the blood seeping through my fingers. A loud crash from behind made me quicken my pace. Back in my room, I cleaned myself up, took my medication, and lay down. I messaged the doctor, asking to increase the dosage—I was losing control. Just as I sent it, the door was kicked open. Henry stormed in, yanking off my covers and pinning me down. “You started this fire, now you put it out!” he growled, pressing me hard against the bed. I gasped in pain. “Henry, you’re disgusting!” “Disgusting? I’ll show you what’s really disgusting!”
He was ruthless. I bit my lip, my whole body feeling like it was being torn apart. Henry seemed to notice my discomfort and coldly said, “Don’t like it?” “Henry, let go. I need to throw up.” Henry’s face darkened, his dark eyes filled with anger. Just as he was about to speak, I couldn’t hold back anymore and turned my head, vomiting again. The acidic bile made Henry recoil in disgust. He cursed, quickly getting up and slamming the door as he left. As air rushed back into my lungs, I let out a long breath. I got up and went to the bathroom, but couldn’t bring anything else up. After cleaning up, the room still reeked. I threw away the bedsheets and moved to the guest room to lie down. Pain crept in bit by bit. Henry’s face loomed large before me, and then everything went black. When I came to, I was in the hospital. The smell of disinfectant brought me back to reality. “I…” I tried to speak. “You’re awake? That’s great! I’ll go get the doctor!” The young nurse excitedly went to call the doctor. I rubbed my temples, wondering who had brought me here. It couldn’t have been Henry, and there was no one else at home. As I pondered, the doctor came in. Charles nodded at me. “It’s good you’re awake. I called you but got no answer, so I went to your house. I heard a loud thud inside, thankfully I called the police, or we might have been arranging your funeral by now.” I finally understood—it was him. “How did you know where I live?” Charles smiled. “Don’t forget, I’m your attending physician. Your address is in your file, and I needed to do follow-ups. When there was no response to the follow-up, I went to check on you. Luckily, I made it in time.” I couldn’t help but smile, touched that someone cared so much about me in my final moments. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it. By the way, I notified your family. Henry Grant, your husband, right?” “What?!” I was shocked. If he knew I was here… Never mind, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t have many days left anyway. I lay in bed as Charles examined me, then said solemnly, “What would you like to eat? I’ll go buy it.” “Anything is fine. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway.” It was early morning, and my stomach was empty, but I didn’t feel hungry at all. Charles left, and Henry came in shortly after. Seeing me lying in bed, his anger dissipated, replaced by shock. “Aria, how… how did you end up like this?” I opened my eyes groggily, seeing Henry standing before me. I managed a smile. “You’re here.” Henry’s face was full of horror. “You… you’re really sick?” “Yes. Henry, let’s get divorced.”
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