Damon stood beside the hospital bed for a long time.

The soup in his hands slowly stopped steaming.

Finally, he whispered:

“Clara… what do you mean?”

I didn’t answer.

I was too tired.

The doctor entered several minutes later.

He checked my bandages, then looked at the chart.

His expression immediately changed.

“Who authorized this medication?”

Damon frowned.

“What medication?”

The doctor turned toward him.

“Where is her family?”

Damon hesitated.

“I’m her brother-in-law.”

“Then contact her husband.”

“Former husband.”

I corrected him.

The doctor looked at me.

“Ms. Blackwood, we need to discuss your underlying condition.”

Damon went completely still.

“What condition?”

I closed my eyes.

There was no point hiding it anymore.

“Pancreatic cancer.”

The bowl slipped from Damon’s hands.

It shattered across the floor.

“What?”

“Late stage.”

His face emptied of color.

“No.”

I almost smiled.

People always said that.

As though refusing the diagnosis could change it.

Damon rushed toward the bed.

“How long have you known?”

“Seven months.”

“Seven…”

His voice broke.

“Does Adrian know?”

“No.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?”

I looked at him.

“Would it have mattered?”

Damon couldn’t answer.

Seven months earlier, when the doctor told me treatment was unlikely to give me much time, I had returned home with the report in my handbag.

That night, Adrian brought Selena home.

She wanted my bedroom.

Adrian gave it to her.

I slept in the guest room.

The next morning, I tried again.

“Adrian, I need to tell you something.”

He didn’t even look away from his phone.

“Later.”

Later never came.

Eventually…

I stopped trying.

Damon suddenly turned toward the door.

“I’m telling him.”

“No.”

He stopped.

“Clara!”

“Don’t.”

“He has the right to know!”

I laughed weakly.

“The right?”

My wounds burned when I moved, but somehow the pain felt distant.

“He wanted a divorce.”

“I gave it to him.”

“He wanted Selena.”

“I stepped aside.”

“He wanted me out of his life.”

“I’m leaving.”

Damon’s eyes filled with tears.

“You knew who I was from the beginning, didn’t you?”

I looked at him.

“Almost immediately.”

His face crumpled.

“Then why did you play along?”

That question hurt more than I expected.

“Because you looked like him.”

Damon froze.

“Not Adrian now.”

I swallowed.

“The Adrian I knew when we were eighteen.”

“The boy who used to wait outside school because I was afraid to walk home alone.”

“The boy who gave me his jacket in winter.”

“The boy who promised that if the whole world abandoned me, he wouldn’t.”

A tear slipped into my hair.

“I knew you were pretending.”

“But I was dying.”

“And I wanted to pretend too.”

Damon covered his face.

For once, he had nothing clever to say.

Then footsteps sounded outside.

The door opened.

Adrian entered.

His expression was impatient.

“Damon, Selena needs—”

He stopped.

Something in the room felt wrong.

His eyes moved from Damon’s face…

to mine…

then to the doctor.

“What happened?”

Nobody answered.

Adrian frowned.

“What?”

Damon walked toward him.

Then punched him.

Hard.

Adrian staggered backward.

“What the hell—”

“She’s dying!”

Silence.

Adrian stared at him.

“What did you say?”

“Clara has cancer.”

Adrian didn’t move.

Damon shouted again.

“She’s dying!”

I watched the color disappear from Adrian’s face.

Slowly.

Completely.

Then he looked at me.

He laughed once.

A strange, disbelieving sound.

“Clara.”

I said nothing.

“Tell him to stop joking.”

Still nothing.

He approached my bed.

“Clara.”

His voice had changed.

“Tell me.”

I looked at the man I’d loved for sixteen years.

And suddenly…

I felt nothing.

That frightened him more than tears ever could.

“How long?”

“Seven months.”

His body swayed.

“Seven months?”

He stared at me.

“You knew for seven months?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

The same question.

Again.

I looked at him calmly.

“I tried.”

Adrian froze.

“When?”

“The night Selena moved into our bedroom.”

His jaw tightened.

“You said you were busy.”

I continued.

“The morning you gave her my anniversary bracelet.”

“I asked you to have breakfast with me.”

“You said seeing my face ruined your appetite.”

His breathing became uneven.

“Then, three months ago, I left the medical report on your desk.”

Something flashed across his face.

He remembered.

“You…”

His voice cracked.

“You said those were divorce documents.”

“No.”

“They were biopsy results.”

Adrian stepped backward.

For perhaps the first time in his life, the most feared man in the Blackwood family looked afraid.

“No.”

He shook his head.

“No, Clara.”

“We’ll get another doctor.”

“We’ll go to Switzerland.”

“America.”

“Anywhere.”

“I’ll find someone.”

The doctor quietly said:

“Mr. Blackwood—”

“Shut up!”

Adrian roared.

Then he turned back to me.

“I’ll fix this.”

There it was.

The arrogance of a man who had spent his entire life believing everything had a price.

“I’ll pay whatever it costs.”

I smiled faintly.

“You can’t buy time.”

His eyes turned red.

“Then I’ll buy every treatment available.”

“I don’t want them.”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

The room became silent.

Even Adrian seemed to hear himself.

My smile disappeared.

“You already decided enough things for me.”

He stopped breathing.

“You decided I was guilty.”

“You decided I deserved punishment.”

“You decided Selena deserved my home, my jewelry, my place beside you.”

“You decided Damon should deceive me into signing away everything.”

“And yesterday…”

I slowly lifted my bandaged arm.

“You decided I deserved this.”

Adrian stared at the burns.

His lips trembled.

“I thought you hurt Selena.”

“You always thought the worst of me.”

“No…”

“Yes.”

I looked directly into his eyes.

“Sixteen years, Adrian.”

“And when someone accused me…”

“You didn’t need proof.”

“You only needed an excuse.”

He sat down heavily.

Then his phone rang.

Selena.

Nobody moved.

It rang again.

Adrian declined it.

A minute later, one of his men entered.

“Boss.”

Adrian didn’t turn.

“What?”

The man hesitated.

“We found the person who attacked Miss Gray.”

That finally made Adrian look up.

“And?”

The man’s face was tense.

“It wasn’t Mrs. Blackwood.”

Silence.

“Who?”

“Miss Gray arranged it herself.”

Adrian slowly stood.

The man continued.

“She paid someone to use diluted chemicals on her clothes and shoulder.”

“She wanted injuries serious enough to blame Mrs. Blackwood, but not permanent damage.”

Damon cursed under his breath.

Adrian didn’t react.

He simply stared at the wall.

Then asked:

“Are you certain?”

“We have the payment records and messages.”

The room became unbearably quiet.

I almost laughed.

So that was it.

The great Adrian Blackwood.

A man who trusted nobody.

A man who built an empire on suspicion.

And yet…

when it came to destroying his wife, he hadn’t bothered to investigate.

Adrian looked at my bandages again.

This time, his knees actually gave way.

He knelt beside the bed.

“Clara.”

I turned my face away.

“I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

“Clara, look at me.”

I didn’t.

He reached toward my hand.

Then stopped before touching it.

Perhaps he finally understood that he no longer had permission.

“I’ll make Selena pay.”

I closed my eyes.

“I don’t care.”

“I’ll give you everything.”

“I don’t want it.”

“The houses.”

“No.”

“The company shares.”

“No.”

“Anything.”

His voice broke.

“Tell me what you want.”

Finally, I looked at him.

“Peace.”

One word.

Adrian went silent.

“I want to spend whatever time I have left without you.”

His face collapsed.

“Don’t say that.”

“I signed your divorce.”

“You got what you wanted.”

“I didn’t want this!”

“You spent two years forcing me to leave.”

“I wanted you to surrender!”

He shouted.

Then immediately seemed horrified by his own confession.

I understood.

Finally.

He had never truly wanted freedom.

He wanted obedience.

He wanted me stripped of pride, property and dignity.

Then he expected me to remain nearby while Selena played Mrs. Blackwood whenever she pleased.

I smiled.

“So you never wanted a divorce.”

Adrian said nothing.

“You wanted a punishment.”

His silence confirmed it.

Three days later, I left the hospital.

Not with Adrian.

With a private nurse.

The divorce agreement Damon had tricked me into signing was challenged through my lawyer, along with the circumstances surrounding it.

I didn’t want Adrian’s empire.

I only wanted what legally belonged to me and the freedom to disappear.

Selena vanished from Blackwood society soon afterward.

I never asked where she went.

Damon visited once.

He stood at my door holding no flowers.

No gifts.

No soup.

“I’m sorry.”

This time, I believed him.

Not enough to forgive everything.

But enough to close the door without hatred.

Adrian came every day.

I never let him inside.

Then one morning, I found a small wooden box outside.

Inside was an old photograph.

Adrian and me at eighteen.

Before the Blackwood empire.

Before blood.

Before power.

Before he became someone I could no longer recognize.

On the back, he had written:

I wish I had remained this man.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then put it back in the box.

Some wishes arrive too late.

Months later, when my condition worsened, I moved to a quiet house overlooking the sea.

No Blackwood guards.

No diamonds.

No enormous rooms.

Only sunlight.

Salt air.

And silence.

One evening, my nurse asked:

“Do you regret loving him?”

I thought about it.

“No.”

She seemed surprised.

I smiled.

“I regret how long I confused loving him with allowing him to hurt me.”

Outside, the sun was sinking into the ocean.

For years, Adrian Blackwood believed the cruelest thing he could do was force me to sign away our marriage.

He was wrong.

The cruelest thing had already happened.

He had taken sixteen years of love…

and taught me how to die without wanting him beside me.