Chapter 3My Jerk Husband Who Begged for Forgiveness, Yet Held Another in His Arms

As the car moved slowly forward, my mind drifted back to the year I graduated. Hector and I had attended a charity event together. That was when we met Yael. Despite her frail and small frame, her eyes shone with an extraordinary toughness.

We learned that Yael had lost her mother at a young age and was later abandoned by her family. Even after years of working part-time jobs to pay her way through high school, she still couldn't afford her university tuition. On the verge of missing her chance to start university, she looked helpless but resolute.

Perhaps because she reminded me of myself in some way, I inexplicably decided that day to sponsor her anonymously. Hector was somewhat reluctant at first, but eventually gave in to my persistence and agreed.

Over the years, I regularly transferred money into Yael's account through Hector's account, without paying attention to her academic performance or what she did after graduation. I just never expected to see her again—this time among the job candidates at Hector's company. Maybe it was all meant to be.

The car pulled smoothly into the hospital parking lot. I got out without any hurry, even though the hospital had been urging me multiple times. I knocked on the doctor's office door and saw a figure that seemed vaguely familiar. "Zack Cooper."

My mind raced, trying to place the familiar name. "Zack!"

Zack, right in front of me, was staring intently at the computer screen with a cold, serious expression. He cut me off sharply before I could say anything. "Charleen, we found signs of a tumor in your digestive system from your last check-up."

I was stunned for a moment and calmly asked him, "Is it malignant?"

"Yes, which is why we contacted you. We'd like you to consider being admitted to the hospital as soon as possible to start treatment."

For a moment, my mind went blank as I tried to process the information. "What if I don't accept the treatment?"

"I hope you will."

"What if I don't? How long can I live?"

"Half a year, maybe... shorter."

I walked out of the hospital with the diagnosis report in hand, feeling utterly dazed and disheartened. I drove home as quickly as I could, my mind in turmoil.