ManyWriters

I was lying on the hospital bed, vomiting blood for the third time, while he was carefully asking Pure Love how many grams of brown sugar the traditional medicine needed.
The nurse urgently pressed for payment, and I had to call Eames nine times before he finally answered.
When Eames showed up, he impatiently slapped his bank card on the bedside table, "Sophie still needs to rest. Stop bothering me with these little tricks of pretending to be sick."
I curled up under the blanket, clutching my stomach cancer diagnosis, listening to him talk on the phone with Sophie, his voice so tender it could drip water.
"Don't be afraid, I'll be right there."
Ten minutes later, my phone displayed Sophie's latest social media post.
The girl was holding a caviar brown sugar pot, happily writing, "It feels so good to be cherished by someone."
My heart twisted like a knife, and I completely gave up hope.
I immediately crossed out the family member section on the death notice and, with tears in my eyes, signed my own name.

Cancer and Snowflakes

"Oh Lord, what drama is this now! Blood on a joyous day, how terribly unlucky!"


Mrs. Harrington and several women recoiled in fear, stepping back repeatedly.


A woman claiming to be an aunt pulled out her phone to record, "Eames, come quick! Your darling is acting crazy again!"


Trembling, I grabbed some tissues, desperately trying to control the bleeding, but the more I wiped, the more blood flowed, soaking through the entire tissue.


Just then, my phone vibrated. I frantically picked it up, Eames's tone conveying displeasure even through the screen, "Sophie attempted suicide!"


I snapped a photo of my blood-stained wedding dress and sent it, then put down the phone and stood up to leave.


As a result, I didn't see Eames's follow-up texts.


"If anything happens to Sophie, I'll never forgive you!"


When Eames rushed to the church, only my best friend Melody was sitting inside.


Melody pointed to where I had been sitting, "There's a document on the pew."


He casually picked it up to look, his face instantly turning pale.


A late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis report.


And a consent form for refusing further treatment.Every page was signed with the name "Frostine."


Melody's eyes were rimmed with red. "She was coughing up blood for two months, and you're saying she was faking it?"


Hearing this, Eames's throat tightened as he frantically flipped through the pages.


On the last page, the consent form for terminating treatment, he clearly saw that the family member section had been forcefully crossed out with a ballpoint pen.


Melody, clutching the bloodstained tissues in her hand, threw them forcefully at him. "What were you doing when she was coughing up blood until she went into shock?"


Eames was stunned and speechless, then suddenly erupted in anger, flipping over an entire row of chairs.


"It's fake! It's all fake! How could she possibly have cancer? You must all be putting on an act!"


Melody shoved her phone in front of his eyes. On the screen, I was smiling at the camera, with a palm full of bright red blood.


"This video is her wedding anniversary gift to you."


"And Frostine said that she never wants to see you again, not even in death!"


Eames was devastated, spending every night sleeping while clutching the diagnosis papers.Until Melody brought the news, "Frostine is dead."


At the funeral, Eames knelt in the center, his suit wrinkled beyond recognition, dark circles under his eyes, as if he had aged ten years overnight.


He stared at Frostine's smiling face in the photograph, feeling as if a knife was carving into his flesh!


Sophie, dressed in a plain white dress, approached with reddened eyes, reaching out to support him.


"Eames, please don't punish yourself like this. It's my fault for throwing a tantrum at that moment. Otherwise, Frostine wouldn't have..."


Eames violently shook off her hand, the force making her stumble backward.


Sophie bit her lip, then pretended to fall weakly towards the altar, her arm lightly sweeping across it. In an instant, the urn was knocked to the ground.


The grayish-white ashes scattered across the floor.


Sophie crouched down in a panic, tears streaming down her face. "Oh! I didn't mean to! It's all my fault!"


"Eames, I really didn't do it on purpose!"


She then turned to the nearby servants, "How could you be so careless? Placing such an important thing on the edge like that!"


Chapter 5