Chapter 10
I stared at William’s face, full of devotion.
Years ago, I would have given anything to see this look in his eyes.
But now? Now, I just felt exhausted.
“I don’t want this.”
“William, in the little time I have left, I don’t want to see either of you.”
“For once in your life, just let me go.”
He was silent for a long time.
Then, finally, he spoke.
“So in the end, I was never your love. Just another burden.”
He left, looking more lost than I’d ever seen him.
Minutes later, James stormed in.
“What did my brother say to you?” he demanded.
“Lillian, you’re my wife. No one is taking you from me!”
He locked me away like a fragile doll, bringing in private doctors to keep me alive for as long as possible.
“You have to fight,” he whispered. “Do it for me.”
News broke that he had transferred all his assets to my name.
People called him the perfect husband.
But the truth was, our love had already died.
Before he left one morning, I stopped him.
“Sign the divorce papers.”
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Chemer
“Consider it my last wish.”
His eyes turned red with fury.
“Never.”
“Even if you die, you’re not leaving me.”
That night, William showed up at my bedside.
“I found a specialist overseas.”
“Come with me, Lillian. Let’s try one more time.”
He smuggled me out of James‘ house and into his mansion.
Every day, he fought desperately to save me..
“She can’t die! I won’t allow it!”
“I don’t care what it takes–use the best technology, the best medicine!”
“I want her to live a long, full life!”
One evening, I quietly placed my will on the nightstand and slipped out into the cold.
It was snowing.
The first snow of the year.
I walked far, far away. Into the mountains. Into the quiet.
And there, I finally closed my eyes.
I became nothing more than a whisper, a memory drifting through the wind.
William clutched my will, his tears soaking the paper.
The man who had always been so composed, so in control–he was completely undone.
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I drifted to James next.
The house was filled with memories of us.
He trashed his study, smashing everything in sight.
Then, he tore down the wall where he had pinned that ridiculous scorecard–comparing me to Sophia.
“This is all your fault!”
He sobbed, his body shaking.
Then, in a broken whisper-
“No… It’s all my fault.”
He picked up the crumpled divorce papers I had left behind.
Tears streaming down his face, he signed his name.
“Lillian, you’re free now.”
“In your next life… I hope you’ll be happy.”
In the end, it was the elderly orphanage director who took me home.
She carried my ashes back to the small town where I belonged.
“This is where she should rest.”
“No one will bury her anywhere else.”
She wept over my grave, mourning like a mother for her lost child.
I reached out, trying to comfort her, but something pulled me away.
It was time to go.
Maybe in my next life, I would finally find peace.
13:31
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