Chapter 3

During my hospital stay, my condition worsened and showed no signs of improvement.

The day I was diagnosed with liver cancer, the doctor's expression was grave.

"Don't you know the consequences of taking birth control pills?"

I lowered my eyes without speaking.

Of course I knew.

But I was gambling—gambling on Torres's sincerity. Unfortunately, I lost the bet.

He never loved me, not even for a second.

The first person to learn about my liver cancer was my best college roommate, Wesley.

She came to my hospital room, her face paler than mine, her voice trembling, with a heavy nasal tone.

"Vivian, you deserve this!"

I had no emotional reaction. She was right. I was the one who ignored everyone's warnings and stubbornly gambled with so-called love for sincerity.

"I'm sorry..."

Her tears fell in streams, sliding down her face and dripping onto the floor.

"You used to be selfish and unscrupulous for money. How did one Torres turn you into this?!"

"Does he know you have this disease?"

I shook my head.

Wesley bit her lip, her nose also turning sour.

"No way. I'm going to settle accounts with him! What kind of man is he?!"

I used my last bit of strength to grasp her wrist and begged her, "Don't go! Only his friend can cure my mom's illness..."

She looked at me with disappointment and let out a heavy sigh.

A few days later, Torres called me for the first time since I was hospitalized.

"Vivian, don't you have a friend named Wesley who works at the Dance Association?"

I hummed in acknowledgment.

Relief came through the phone. "That's good. Ask your friend to pull some strings and get Anna into the Dance Association."

His commanding tone—I was used to it.

Wesley beside me cursed, "Torres, what the hell are you?! Do you know Vivian is dy—"

Before the word "dying" could leave her mouth, I hung up the phone.

"What are you doing?! Vivian!"

I sniffled. "Help me this one last time. He's given me so much. I don't want to owe him any favors."

She pressed her lips together, which meant she agreed.

I didn't want to waste my final days in the hospital, so I rented a place and grew some flowers and plants.

For Torres to find my new address was just a matter of words, so when he knocked on my door, I wasn't surprised.

As soon as he entered, he picked me up and pressed me against the shoe cabinet. His wet kisses fell on my neck.

I struggled desperately, but he held me tighter.

When he tired of kissing, he released me and frowned slightly. "You've lost weight, Vivian."

I pulled a wet wipe from the shoe cabinet and gently wiped away where he'd kissed.

A flash of displeasure crossed his brow, but in the end he said nothing.

"What do you want? Where's Anna?"

I asked him.

Torres walked toward the inner room like he was entering his own home, saying casually, "She's on her period these past few days. I can't hold back."

"What do you have to eat? Make me something. I'm starving."

I'd never refused him.

From the moment he gave me money, I'd served him like a deity, whether in bed or in daily life.

But I was too tired now. I felt exhausted even doing nothing.

"There's nothing to eat. This isn't a restaurant."

Torres looked at me in surprise and scoffed. "So you're throwing a tantrum now?"

I said calmly, "I'm not throwing a tantrum."

"Fine, but your mother's surgery..."

"I'll do it."

I interrupted him and walked to the kitchen.

A few minutes later, a bowl of steaming seafood noodles sat on the table.

Torres was satisfied.

"So you can cook. How pretentious."

A full belly breeds lust.

After eating, he pulled me into his arms and buried his head in my neck.

"Sleep with me a few more times, okay?"

I felt nauseated.

"Ugh!"

Then I actually vomited.

Torres just felt his mood was ruined. He frowned. "Unlucky. Forget it."

He grabbed his coat and slammed the door on his way out.