Chapter 2

The recent stomach hemorrhage wasn't an isolated incident. Seven days prior, I had received a devastating diagnosis: terminal stomach cancer with a mere 90 days left to live.

The memory of that day remains vivid. On our third marriage anniversary, I found myself alone in a hospital corridor.

The medical report, damp with perspiration, quivered in my unsteady grasp. My limbs felt heavy; multiple attempts to rise ended in failure.

After calling Benedict ten times, my already frayed nerves finally gave way.

"Kendra! Have you lost your mind? Just because you're idle doesn't mean everyone else is!" he bellowed.

His words held truth. My illness was severe, and it was indeed affecting my sanity.

Before I could reply, a woman's saccharine voice came through the phone, causing my unspoken words to catch in my throat.

"Benedict! I knew you'd show up! You missed me, didn't you?"

I heard Benedict's soft laugh before the line went dead.

This wasn't the first occurrence.

The initial time he stood me up was to collect Tylor upon her return to the country.

The first instance of him striking me was due to Tylor damaging my piano.

Initially, I was astounded, but over time, I grew numb to it.

The intense hurt I once experienced faded into a dull ache.

I repeatedly made excuses for him, convincing myself it was all because Tylor was his cousin, and he had no alternative.

Eventually, though, I had to confront the reality—he wasn't helpless and was making these choices willingly.

To Benedict, I was merely a diversion when Tylor was absent, a plaything he could trample. My self-respect and affection were crushed under his feet.

Thus, I resolved to make him experience the anguish of unrequited love. I would make him fall for me and be tormented by my memory.

If he refused to care about me now, I would embed myself as a thorn in his heart.

While alive, I would be a persistent, irritating presence.

After my passing, I would leave him utterly shattered.

I created three video recordings, intending to leave Benedict a gift he would never forget.