Chapter 3Dead Wife, Lost Dog, and Her Return

In the quiet basement, I let out a hysterical laugh. My laughter grew sharper with each breath, until it broke into a heartbreaking wail.

Intense grief and anger surged within me, like a blade of thorns stabbing at my soul.

Five years ago, Casey had been carrying our child. But due to the exhaustion of starting a business with me and the lack of nutrition, the child turned into a pool of blood one night and flowed out of her body.

She kneeled by the hospital bed, reduced to a sobbing mess. Slapping herself in the cheek, she said, "Zach, it's all my fault. I've failed to protect our child. But don't worry. I swear, I won't ever let you suffer again, even if it costs me my life!"

Yet, just this morning, she had let another child kick me in the head, allowing others to humiliate me.

Our child and Pudding had died, and I would soon follow them. But Casey was still living a good life.

Suddenly, an excruciating pain tore through my stomach. I made a run for the small bathroom and collapsed over the toilet bowl, vomiting violently.

All that I threw up was bile since I hadn't eaten all day. It hurt so much, as if my organs were burning in a scorching fire. I coughed so intensely that a metallic taste began to fill my throat.

With a cry, I spat out a mouthful of blood, staining the white toilet bowl red.

As I stared at that glaring pool of red, my last bit of energy was sapped out of me, and my vision blurred.

…

It was the blinding sunlight that woke me up again. I lay on the cold bathroom floor, my body stiff as a stone.

I was already numb to the pain in my stomach. At that moment, I felt strangely calm. I picked up the envelope filled with cash and walked out of the basement.

That day was the day when I had promised Madison Gray, my biggest creditor, that I would repay the last installment.

When I arrived at her billiard hall, she was puffing on a cigarette and twirling a cue stick in her hand.

I walked up to the table and no longer showed her the respect I once did.

"I'm not paying you today," I said in a soft but clear voice. "Casey is still alive, and her life is much better than ours. But I'm sure you already know that. She drives a Maybach and wears designer clothes worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. She doesn't need to borrow anything from you. Don't you agree?"

For the first time, I saw a helpless look on Madison's face. I had hit the nail on the head. She was so shocked that she forgot to stop me when I turned to leave.

I pushed open the door and strode out.

Outside, the sunlight was shining down brilliantly.

I looked at the money in my hand, feeling all the more relaxed. I had traded my life for the money. It would be foolish of me to give it to a liar.

For the next seven days, I lived the most extravagant and craziest days I had ever had in my 32 years of life.

I took the money to the city's most luxurious mall and bought the suit I had long admired through the glass, never daring to touch.

I cut my hair, shaved off my stubble, and dined at a restaurant where the wagyu beef cost 500 dollars per person.

However, because I had developed stomach cancer, I couldn't digest such expensive meat at all. I would throw up in the bathroom the moment I took a few bites.

Nevertheless, I still forced myself to chew and swallow them.

Then, I booked a suite with a river view at a five-star hotel. While soaking in a bathtub sprinkled with rose petals, I gazed out at the bustling yet indifferent city.

For the first time, I paused to take in the neon lights shining in the night and enjoy the warm breeze brushing across my face.

I realized, at that moment, that that was what it felt like to be alive.