Chapter 1

On our fifth wedding anniversary, Liam promised me the grand wedding he’d always wanted to give me.

He said he deeply regretted not giving me a ceremony back then, and that I would be the most beautiful bride.

But on our wedding day, he got a text message and rushed off.

I chased after him, stumbling in my heavy wedding dress. He only offered a rushed comfort: “Avery, something really important came up at work. I have to go.”

His lies were pathetic, so clumsy, but I didn't even have the energy to call him out.

Because I had cancer. And I didn’t have long left.

Liam didn't know I'd received the message before he did.

I was sitting in front of the vanity mirror, my phone buzzing with a SnapChat notification. I opened it to see the text: "Avery, I won't bother your life anymore. Are you satisfied?"

My heart hammered in my chest. Before I could even react, I saw Liam glance down at his phone, then his face went pale with panic, and he dashed out.

He was always so composed, so in control. I'd never seen him like this.

As I rushed after him, I almost tripped over my skirt, crashing into the doorframe. My knee stung, a sharp, burning pain.

He didn't even look back. He just slammed the car door shut, leaving that one flimsy excuse hanging in the air.

For this wedding, I’d chosen a strapless mermaid gown, despite the chilly autumn weather. I just wanted my life to be beautiful, just once.

And he left me there, alone, with all our invited family and friends.

For a moment, I wanted to flee, to run away immediately. I was so exhausted. I didn't want to deal with the mess he’d left behind.

He was the one who promised me a surprise. He was the one who filled me with hope. And he was the one who abandoned me here.

But I looked at their expectant faces. We weren't a fresh young couple just going through the motions.

We'd been married for years, and we'd carefully invited only our closest circle – less than six tables in total – a mix of friends and family from both sides.

My old college roommates and close friends from work were sitting inside. They’d traveled from far away, just to indulge my sentimental heart.

I stiffly turned, changed into something lighter, and went to greet them one by one.

Liam’s buddy, Mark, joked, "You two are still playing games, huh, Avery? A wedding five years later! Don't forget to invite us to your silver and gold anniversaries!"

I smiled and promised him I would.

But I knew in my heart there wouldn't be any more anniversaries. Even if I lived that long, my marriage with Liam wouldn't last.

My best friend, Chloe, rubbed my hands. "Why are your hands so cold? And where's Liam?"

I forced a smile. "Oh! He’s busy. Work called him away again."

She squeezed my hand tight. After more than a decade, we knew each other too well. Meeting her gaze, I nearly lost it, tears threatening to spill.

I didn't want anyone to see how upset I was, but my mind was a chaotic mess.

Finally, after settling everyone, I collapsed onto a chair, utterly drained, unable to say another word.

Then my mom suddenly called, launching into a furious tirade: "Are you completely heartless? Your sister is dying, and you still have the nerve to throw a wedding?"

I didn't even have the strength to stand up, listening calmly as she ranted.

It took me a moment to piece together what she was saying: Selena had an episode, slit her wrists on the school rooftop.

It took all my effort to find my voice. "Didn't the groom already rush off to save her? What more do you want? Should I just… kill myself to appease her? Will that make her better?"

There was one more thing I didn't say: *I don't have long to live anyway. You'll be satisfied soon enough.*

But I didn't want them to know. I didn't want to see any of them in my final days.

"What are you talking about? Your own husband couldn't stand it! Your sister, who grew up with you, is dying, and you have no reaction whatsoever? How can you be so cold-blooded?"

My mom continued to yell. She didn't know that my throat was burning just from trying to speak.

I choked back a cough and hung up, looking at myself in the mirror. I looked like a ghost.

Whenever Selena was involved, I lost. She always won. She could effortlessly snatch everything from me, every single time.

Selena was my aunt's daughter. After my aunt and uncle died in a car accident, she came to live with us.

From that day on, I heard the same line every single day: "Selena's already so miserable! Why do you always have to fight her? Can't you just let her have this?"