Chapter 1

On our fifth anniversary, Fintan was planning to propose to me.

I was waiting excitedly in the bedroom while they set up, when I overheard Fintan's resigned tone:

"Now whenever I think about her hands preparing all those bodies, I feel sick."

"But I have to marry her. I owe her that much."

How laughable.

Seven years ago, at his father's funeral, he couldn't stop thanking me for giving his father a final moment of dignity.

Five years ago, he passionately kissed my fingertips as he professed his love, swearing he'd never be repulsed by me.

If you don't love me, then get lost.

————

Today is my anniversary with Fintan.

I sweetly clutched my gift, heading home early to dress up and surprise him.

Just as I finished getting ready, I heard the door open. As I was about to go out, I overheard him talking about me with his friend.

The fading sunlight streamed through the bedroom window. My body, warm just a moment ago at hearing the words "proposal," now felt as if it had plunged into an icy pit.

Fintan's voice, filled with disgust, pierced through me like a sharp sword, catching me completely off guard. The smile froze on my face.

"They both work with their hands, but Callie's hands play the piano. What about Scarlett? She's handling all sorts of corpses every day."

"Now I even find the food she cooks repulsive, I can barely swallow it."

Just then, a phone rang. It was the special ringtone Fintan had set for Callie.

"Callie? Don't panic, I'm on my way right now."

Fintan's anxious voice faded as he left, his friend calling out his name as he followed.

Opening the door, I saw the balloons, candles, and streamers in the living room. My nose stung, and tears began to fall uncontrollably.

I had noticed it, actually. The bowls and chopsticks changed to two different colors, the unconscious movements to avoid touching.

It's just that I was unwilling to admit it, even forcing myself to believe his talk of couple's dishware.

But Fintan had been so good to me before, and I so desperately wanted a home, that I kept tolerating it over and over.

Now, I don't want to tolerate it anymore.

I changed out of the dress I had specially prepared for our anniversary and returned to my workplace, intending to finish up my work before moving out.

By the time I finished, it was already late at night. As soon as I stood up, I felt a wave of dizziness and unexpectedly collapsed to the floor, with intense pain radiating from my forehead.

I struggled to take out my phone to call 911, but in my disoriented state, I dialed my emergency contact instead.

The call was quickly answered, and Fintan's lowered voice came through the receiver:

"Do you know what time it is? Do you realize you almost woke Callie up?"

"Fintan, I... hit my head, at the funeral home."

"Is this just because I didn't spend our anniversary with you? What's wrong with me taking care of Callie when her condition worsened?"

"Did hitting your head make your voice hoarse too? Scarlett, you're overacting. I can't be bothered with you."

Looking at the disconnected call, my vision began to darken. I struggled to keep my eyes open as I dialed 911, briefly explained the situation, and then couldn't hold on any longer, passing out.

I opened my eyes to find myself in the hospital, with a nurse quickly asking if I felt any discomfort upon seeing me awake.

"Your phone was ringing non-stop earlier, so I answered it. Your boyfriend said he's on his way."

Just as the nurse finished speaking, Fintan's figure burst into the room.

"Are you alright? Why didn't you tell me you were sick?"

He suddenly seemed to remember something and awkwardly closed his mouth.

"Your girlfriend has a fever and weakness, along with a mild concussion. You should prepare some liquid food for her."

"I'll go home right away to make you some chicken congee. Wait for me."

Watching his hurried figure disappear, the nurse smiled and said:

"Your boyfriend really cares for you. Look how worried he is."

I forced a slight smile without saying anything, looking down at my phone.

[Callie wants chicken congee. Make it and bring it over.]

[Don't pretend you didn't see this. It's just congee, why are you being so petty?]

[Scarlett, don't forget, if it wasn't for your surgery, Callie wouldn't have delayed her treatment.]

[Answer the phone! You're too old to be throwing tantrums.]

I'm allergic to chicken. The one who likes chicken congee was never me, but Callie, who's in the same hospital.

I opened a food delivery app and ordered a seafood congee.