The Love that Passed

ll

nd, Jared, my voice filled with uncertainty. His gaze

agreed to marry you, I will give you what you want just

ered the news that a compatible heart was available for me. The prospect of extending my life through surgery had filled me with hope, but there was a signi

ng him with no choice but to marry me against his will. He didn't love me; he loved someone else—Stacey

hey had parted ways after our marriage, although I didn't delve into their relationship. My hope wasn't born out of selfishness but rather a desire for my h

I would react if that ever happened. While I didn't love him, I still respected the sanctity of our marriage, and I hoped he did too. Though, deep down,

ge had brought me nothing tangible. Well, almost nothing. I had gained a family of sorts—a far-from-conventional one. Still, I cherished my mother and sister-in-law, whom I had come to reg

ver money, or rather, the lack thereof. I had grown to resent money, regardless of how shiny or enticing it a

k I'd be happy too, free from their constant bickering. Initially, I was. However, their newfound bliss came at a cost—

father harbored a similar sentiment. He wanted nothing to do with me because I brought to mind my mother's alleged greediness.

g beyond having a roof over my head and consistent meals on my table. I worked while I pursued my studies, grateful that, despite the corruption plagu

s had not been easy. I steered clear of unnecessary expenditures, limiting my purchases to essentials. Even when I fin

d me into despair. It was then that I received the harsh revelation that my heart was weakened, demanding utmost caution in everyth

to be a grave mistake. Dr. Gerard's diagnosis was stark—I had three years to live unl

aire. She was a loving mother, a stark contrast to my own. She was also unwell, an

e dawn and return home after I had already retired for the night. Nevertheless, I remained committed to my role as his wife. I diligently prepared everythin

e middle of the night or upon his return. I had discovered his untouched plates in the kitchen sink on many o

ng no desire for him to love me. Such a sentiment would only inflict pain on him, especially if I were to lea

connection since my faith in my parents had been shattered. For years, I had been solely concerned with

o hurt him in the end. So, I had come to terms with my reality—I loved him while he loved someone else. At