Three Months Left to Unlove You

Wade Cox's fiancée, Cecilia Hart, who should have been dead for seven years, suddenly comes back to life. When I go to find him, I discover that they are discussing marriage. Nestled in Wade's arms, Cecilia points at me as I stand at the back of the crowd. She asks, "Who is she, Wade?" Without hesitation, he answers, "She's just the host for the wedding." I clutch my chest, feeling the warning signs of a heart attack. But before I can question him, the bodyguards escort me out of the living room. Laughter and cheerful conversation continue inside. I stand outside, my hands and feet icy cold, consumed by pain. Two hours later, Wade finally comes out, looking confident and full of energy. The moment he sees the state I'm in, he hurriedly wraps me in his coat. He explains, "Cecilia has forgotten everything except that I'm her fiance. The doctors say any emotional shock could drive her to take her own life. The wedding isn't real. It's just to make her happy. The one I love has always been you." I can no longer hold on at that point—I pass out. Wade panics as he carries me to the car. Even his voice is trembling as he assures me. "Don't be afraid, Stella. We've already found a compatible heart donor. I won't let anything happen to you. I'm taking you to the best hospital right now." He has just put me into the passenger seat when he sees Cecilia standing nearby with tears in her eyes. "Wade, are you abandoning me?" she asks sadly. It takes him only a second to make his choice. One finger at a time, he pries my hand from his. Then, he closes the car door. After that, Wade never appears before me again. Instead, he sends me a message, saying, "Great news, Stella. The surgery was a success! Cecilia can't handle any emotional stress right now. Can you go away and lie low for three months? After that, we'll spend the rest of our lives together." The promises are beautiful, but he doesn't know the truth. The surgery isn't successful at all, and three months is far too long. I don't have that much time left. Chapter 1 These days, Wade Cox, who rarely updated his social media, became the one dominating everyone's feeds. He and Cecilia Hart were photographed in all sorts of picturesque cafes, atmospheric streets, cake shops, and artisanal workshops. For someone who used to be so quiet and private, he now wrote captions that poured his absolute heart and soul out, dripping with raw emotion. "Even though we've already done all 100 things one must do while one's in love before, my baby forgot, so I'll accompany her to relive them once more. Words can't describe how happy I am to get her back. As long as it is her wish, even if it kills me, I will fulfill it for her." I had wanted to do all of these things with Wade for the longest time. Yet, every time I brought them up, he'd dismiss me as childish, claim he had no time, and reject me without exception. As it turned out, he didn't hate the activities; he just hated me. A tearing pain ripped through my heart. With trembling hands, I tried to call Wade to demand an explanation, but before I could dial, his call came through. "Cecilia wrote the captions and took the photos. I'm only going along with it for the sake of her condition. Cecilia wouldn't let me hide the posts from anyone, so I had no choice but to let you see them. "I knew you'd be upset. Please don't be mad at me, Stella. I love you. I always have," he explained. He claimed it was an act, but the joy etched between his brows and the way he looked at Cecilia as if she were his entire world were all devastatingly real. It couldn't be faked. In contrast, his empty promises of love for me sounded unbelievably cheap. I gasped for air as the machines connected to my body beeped loudly. The crushing weight of betrayal, fear, and agony had me spiraling toward a breakdown. Sweat beaded on my forehead, trickling down and blending with the tears pooling at the corners of my eyes. "Wade…" I choked out. "My heart hurts. It hurts so much!" I thought his heart would ache for me, but instead of comfort, I was met with immediate skepticism. "How could that be? Didn't you already have your heart transplant?" Then, as if something had occurred to him, he chided, "Drop the act, Stella! Now isn't the time to be jealous." My breath caught for a split second, and I argued, "I'm not jealous! I'm seriously in pain. Can you please just come over?" Yet, the only response I received was Cecilia's voice. "Get your ass over here, darling! I can't reach my back in the shower. Help me out." Wade's footsteps sounded, and the sound of running water gradually became clearer. I nearly broke down. Clutching my chest to keep myself from being consumed by the pain, I demanded, "Are you seriously going to help her bathe? What do you take me for, Wade?" Wade's tone was calm, yet laced with annoyance. "It's all just an act. Quit being jealous, okay? Three days out of the three months are already behind us. It'll all be over in 89 days. So, just wait for me patiently." He hung up on me. No matter how many times I dialed, I could no longer get through. Then, a new post appeared on his social media. Wade's soaking wet shirt clung to his abs, and a delicate, slender hand with red-painted nails had slipped through his shirt, resting firmly against his chest. "My baby girl said I'm soft to the touch." My breath caught in my throat, triggering a relentless coughing fit. Half a minute later, a sharp metallic taste flooded my mouth. I coughed up a mouthful of blood, spraying it across the white blanket, where it bloomed into a vivid stain. My hand trembled as I reached out to touch it, but everything before my eyes dissolved into a blur. In the end, darkness closed in, and I sank into unconsciousness. Chapter 2 I had no idea how much time had passed when I came to. My attending physician, Dr. Wilson, looked at me and warned solemnly, "Don't let anger or distress get the better of you. Even though your surgery was a success, you need to remain calm after the operation. Such intense emotional swings can cause you to cough up blood and pass out, like today. In worst-case scenarios, it'll put your life in imminent danger." I stared at the ceiling, fighting to keep my feelings under lock and key. When the distinctive chime of a message from Wade rang out, I didn't even have the strength to read it. Hence, I asked our housekeeper, Martha Evans, to read it for me. Martha cleared her throat and cautiously read them out loud, "Cecilia's doing a little better today. The doctor said I'm her medicine. As long as I stay by her side, she'll recover in no time. "Oh, you have no idea how happy I am to see her condition improve! Cecilia loves pear blossoms, and she's been absolutely thrilled with the snow these past few days." Right after that, as if she was afraid I would get upset, she immediately tried to defend Wade. "Mrs. Cox, there's one more sentence here from Mr. Cox. He said the strawberry cake from that patisserie on the west side of town is delicious and that he'll buy one for you later. Mr. Cox still cares about you!" Not a single message he sent me was without mentioning Cecilia. Squeezing my eyes shut, I allowed the tears to track down my cheeks. I was allergic to strawberries. For a heart transplant patient, a severe allergic reaction could even be fatal. I had never even touched a strawberry in my life. The one who actually loved them wasn't me, but Cecilia. My brows knitted together, and I bit down hard on my bottom lip in distress. Dr. Wilson added a new medication to my IV drip. "You look like you're in a lot of pain, so I'll give you a little more painkiller. Remember, don't let your emotions get the best of you." Once the medicine took effect, my rationality returned, and I nodded in agreement with Dr. Wilson. "Don't worry. I won't." I sent my lawyer a message. "Help me draft a divorce agreement. I want to divorce Wade." He was tainted now, and I didn't want him anymore. Naturally, I would never let him mess with my head again. … For ten consecutive days, I gave Wade the silent treatment. Without him around to bother me, my body recovered rapidly. Soon, the doctor told me I was fit for discharge. I moved into the studio that once housed my therapy clinic, and from there, I sent Wade the divorce agreement. In an instant, his calls flooded in, but I declined them, over and over again. Half an hour later, Wade knocked on the door to my studio. Martha had been staying with me to take care of me, so I wasn't the least bit surprised by how fast he had tracked me down. Consequently, I answered the door. This was the first time Wade and I had seen each other since the transplant. He stiffened on the threshold, his anxious expression instantly turning rigid with heartache. "W-Why have you lost so much weight? Did Martha not take good care of you?" "I simply didn't feel like eating. I had no appetite," I responded. "What are you doing here? Aren't you worried Cecilia might get triggered and commit suicide?" I mockingly added. Wade parted his lips, but he couldn't utter a single word. I spun on my heel and walked back to sit on the couch. The mere act of answering the door and uttering those words seemed to have depleted my entire reservoir of strength. I could barely stay on my feet. Wade extended his hand to cup my cheek, but I dodged him. "I don't want to get a divorce," he stated firmly. Lying down, I responded weakly, "Suit yourself. Either way, once we've been separated for a certain period of time, I can file a lawsuit." Wade sank onto one knee in front of me, seizing my hand. "Cecilia and I are childhood sweethearts, Stella. I won't deny that I was in love with her, but now, I only see her as my younger sister. Cecilia went to Stormhold to work as a Doctor Without Borders. "We had agreed to get married when her two-year term was up, but then she vanished without a trace. I searched for her for three years. I often wonder, if I had just kept searching, would she have been able to come home sooner and avoid being abused to the point of losing her sanity...?" He paused before choking out, "I failed her, but that's all I feel toward her. I can't just stand by and watch her be this broken, unstable version of herself. I have to save her. I'm her medicine. Do you understand me, Stella?" My heart, which hadn't hurt for such a long time, began to ache mercilessly all over again at his words. I felt myself slipping toward the brink of another blackout. Holding me tightly, he insisted, "I refuse to get a divorce." His crushing embrace made it increasingly difficult for me to breathe until, ultimately, unable to support my own weight, I curled up into a ball. Wade panicked. "Stella! What's wrong?" Chapter 3 I reached for the medicine Dr. Wilson had prescribed me on the table and placed it under my tongue, but this time, it didn't work. If anything, the torturous pain only worsened. Warmth drained from my limbs at an alarming rate, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. I didn't even have the strength to answer him. Wade gathered me into his arms. "Weren't you already cured? Why is this happening?" Then, he called Dr. Wilson and pressed, "Why is Stella in pain?" Dr. Wilson's voice came through the line. "Her condition has already stabilized, and she shouldn't be in pain anymore… Unless… She's faking it." Wade fell silent. After hanging up, his phone rang. I could see it vividly. It was a message from Cecilia. He took one look at it and, without a second thought, rose to his feet. "I have to go." "Wade!" I called out. Everything I wanted to say was bottlenecked in my chest. I desperately wanted to ask him, "Why would you rather take a doctor's word over mine? Why are you utterly indifferent to my suffering? Why did you consistently choose Cecilia over me?" Yet, I lacked the energy to even open my mouth. Wade spat out, "I'm sure you've heard what Dr. Wilson said. Drop the act, Stella. It's getting old." With that, he left. I tumbled from the couch onto the floor. Tears mixed with hysterical laughter as I rolled on the ground, consumed by a pain worse than death. Martha hurriedly called for an ambulance. I was rushed to the nearest hospital. Through a haze of fading consciousness, I thought I caught a glimpse of Wade, standing side by side with Cecilia. Everything else faded away until only Cecilia's voice remained. "Darling, are you happy? I'm pregnant. I'm one month along. You're going to be a father!" "I am." Wade's response was a crushing blow I couldn't survive. I closed my eyes, and my heart flatlined. To my surprise, my eyes fluttered open again to the sharp, rhythmic beeping of the machines. I scanned the room. Wade was nowhere to be found; only Martha and the doctor stood by my bed. Cecilia's voice—"You're going to be a father!"—replayed over and over in my head. So, I asked Martha, "Cecilia's pregnant, isn't she? Did you hear it? Be honest with me." Martha nodded stiffly. I began to tremble uncontrollably, a violent chill washing over me as if I were slipping into hypothermia. He only saw her as his younger sister? Yeah, right. The doctor fumed, "Dry your tears. Another woman's pregnancy shouldn't concern you. Start worrying about yourself instead. You're in terrible shape." My mind went completely blank. "What do you mean by that? Wasn't my heart transplant a complete success?" The doctor shook his head. "Calm down. Let's discuss this calmly, or it'll only exacerbate your illness." He spread the medical reports and X-rays out in front of me. "Although you have an incision on your chest, you don't seem to have undergone a heart transplant surgery. On top of that, you've been using high doses of painkillers recently. Right now, your heart is severely overloaded and running entirely on fumes. "We recommend you stick to basic medication for the rest of the month… and use this time to visit the people you wish to see." As I tried to process the doctor's words, a wave of helplessness washed over me, making me feel like I was drowning. "I've been played for a fool. Dr. Robert Wilson was hired by Wade. He's been lying to me this whole time! "No… Wade lied to me; he told me the surgery was a success, but he actually led me straight to a dead end. He gave me hope, only to plunge me into utter despair! Why? Why would he do this to me?" Blow after blow crashed down on me, completely tearing me apart until I coughed up another mouthful of blood. Martha was scared out of her wits. She hurriedly supported me. "No, that can't be true... It can't be! Why would Mr. Cox want you dead? He searched high and low across the globe for a heart for you, and he even got himself tested as a match. "If he had been compatible, he would've traded his life for yours without an ounce of hesitation. He would never let you come to harm. There has to be another explanation!" The pain was so excruciating that I doubled over, rocking back and forth. Perhaps he had truly wanted me to live before, but the second Cecilia had returned, everything had changed. The doctor held me down. "Control your emotions, or you'll die!" Then, he gave me an injection. I seized my phone to call Wade. Even if I was going to die, I refused to die a fool. Chapter 4 But my call wouldn't go through. Wade had blocked my number. Undeterred, I dialed his number a total of 300 times. Like a trapped beast, I threw myself against the cage again and again until I was battered and bleeding, yet I still couldn't break free. The doctor kept pumping me with drugs, and my vitals slowly leveled out. Martha pointed at the doctor in front of us. "You must've made a mistake. Mrs. Cox is going to live a long life!" Then, she took me to another hospital. … For three days straight, I consulted countless doctors, but every one of them gave me the same answer. There was no way to treat me. All I could do was rest, and only then might I live to see the arrival of spring. The very first day I regained consciousness, I had texted Wade. "My heart condition hasn't gotten better. The other doctors told me my days are numbered." At long last, on the third day, he replied. "Dr. Wilson literally said you're fine; stop lying, Stella. I know you're upset because I'm keeping Cecilia company. I get it. "However, I promise you're the one I love. I only see Cecilia as my younger sister. For the rest of my life, my wife will only ever be you." Wade insisted that Dr. Wilson was reliable. Yet, Dr. Wilson had long since dropped off the face of the earth. It took me three days to unearth everything about Dr. Wilson. He was Cecilia's dearest friend. The two of them had studied abroad at the same university, and he had been Cecilia's most passionate suitor. Seven years ago, when Cecilia insisted on becoming a humanitarian doctor, Dr. Wilson had accompanied her. However, he repatriated shortly after, and that was when he started making a conscious effort to get close to Wade. At the time, Wade had searched for Cecilia like a madman for three years. He had pushed himself to the absolute brink, leaving his body battered and his heart severely damaged. His attending physician back then was Dr. Wilson, while his psychologist was me. "Dr. Wilson has been deceiving you, and now the con artist has gone off the grid. You might be completely in the dark about this, but Dr. Wilson and Cecilia are far from innocent." I took photos of the blood I had coughed up over the last three days, the diagnostic reports from over 30 doctors at other hospitals, and everything I had found out about Dr. Wilson, and sent them all to Wade. Yet, he merely replied, "Oh, come on, don't use AI. Dr. Wilson and I are old friends, and he doesn't know Cecilia. I trust him. Now isn't the time to be jealous, Stella." "I'm not jealous. I'm telling you the truth! Also, I suspect Cecelia hasn't lost her memory at all. Her innocence is all an act!" I didn't buy for a second that a lone doctor had the nerve or ability to harm me and make a clean getaway. If Wade wasn't the one pulling the strings behind the scenes, then it could only be Cecilia. "That's enough! I forbid you to slander Cecilia!" Wade fumed. "I'm going to block you for now so you can focus on resting. Martha will look after you while I'm away. Remember not to show your face in front of Cecilia or me again." I tentatively sent, "Honey." Yet, my message wasn't delivered. Wade didn't believe me; he believed Cecilia. Hence, I spammed him. "Why won't you believe me?" "Wade, you've been lying to me this whole time!" "I don't want to love you anymore." "I hate you!" Unfortunately, my messages weren't delivered. The pain reached a level that I could no longer endure. I swallowed all of my painkillers. The doctor had advised me not to, but it hurt too much. It hurt so badly. "My heart hurts so much, Wade," I thought to myself. I coughed up more and more blood, staining the message where Wade had promised to spend the rest of his life with me. Snow carpeted the entire world in a bitter, unyielding cold. I smiled through my tears as I thought, "I can't live to see three months from now, Wade. I'm going to die this winter."