Echoes of a Lost Love

1 Dylan and I grew up together. He was smart, handsome, and the star of our class and even the whole school. As for me back then, I was just plain Cinderella. We became the most mismatched couple anyone could imagine. Even our teacher, who discovered our romance, could only advise me seriously, "You should think about your future first." But at that time, I was lost in the sweetness of first love. I completely ignored the teacher's advice and treated the important exams as if they didn't matter. As a result, after high school, I barely scraped by and made it into a community college. And my parents were really upset about it. But I didn't care. I told everyone confidently, "What does it matter? He said he would take care of me anyway." Looking back now, I wish I could travel back in time. I would shake that lovesick version of myself awake. Unfortunately, there was no coming back. 2 I held the diagnosis report for what felt like forever, forcing myself to endure the sharp pain pulsing in my head as I typed a message to him. [Dylan, let's get a divorce.] I had already given him too much of my time. In those last moments, I wanted to try to live a life without him. He didn't reply. Sitting on a bench in the noisy hospital corridor, I scrolled through our chat history. [I'm working late.] [I don't have time] [I have a business dinner.] [I have to go to a party.] Each message was just several simple words followed by an empty period. Finally, after nine o'clock, Dylan responded, but it was just a question mark. [?] I stared at my phone, almost imagining the expression on his face at that moment. [I want a divorce. Let's go to the clerk's office tomorrow.] But Dylan didn't reply again. Instead, he called me. It was eerily quiet on his end, so quiet that I could hear his steady breathing. "Patricia, what are you up to now?" His voice dripped with suppressed anger and clear impatience. I glanced at the diagnosis report neatly laid out on the dining table. "Let's get a divorce. Didn't you want this for a long time?" Silence hung in the air again. Suddenly, a soft voice broke through the silence on the line. "Mr. Johnson, come quickly." It was Christine, Dylan's fifth affair—just a fresh college graduate, full of youthful innocence. She was naive enough to believe that what Dylan offered her was love. Dylan didn't respond to her right away. After a brief pause, he said to me, "Let's talk about it tomorrow." He hung up the phone before I could speak. 3 Beep, beep, beep... The busy signal pulled me out of my daydream. I let out a bitter laugh and hung up the phone. The thought of telling Dylan about my condition swirled in my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. 'What's the point?'  I knew even if I did tell him, he might just think it was another one of my tricks to keep him around. Since I only had a few months to live, he shouldn't expect things to be easy for him either. The next day, Dylan came home early. He stood in the living room, impeccably dressed in a suit, and the scent of another woman's perfume hung in the air around him. I fought back my nausea and pushed the divorce agreement in front of him. "Sign it." Dylan's brow furrowed deeply, his expression dark as night. He was probably upset that I interrupted his "good time" with Christine the night before. He loosened his tie and sat down across from me, picking up the divorce agreement to read it carefully. I wrapped myself lazily in a blanket and leaned back on the sofa, stealing a glance at him before looking away. Not far off, a conspicuous videotape lay quietly, filled with our sweet moments and the report about my cancer. I was sure he would notice it soon enough. "What game are you playing this time?" Dylan asked the question I had expected after reading the divorce agreement. The sunlight warmed my skin as I adjusted the cashmere blanket slipping off my shoulders, ignoring his question. "I don't want the house or the car. A million dollars shouldn't be too much for you, right?" Dylan pressed his lips together tightly, his once-gentle eyes now filled with doubt and distrust. I sat up, my head feeling heavy as if it weighed a thousand pounds, and I was the first to sign my name on the divorce agreement. Then I raised my gaze to meet his. I looked at the man who once loved me dearly but now saw me as worthless. "Dylan, I'll let you go." 4 Dylan pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He didn't ask any more questions and quickly signed the divorce agreement. "The money will be in your account tomorrow." Throwing the pen down, Dylan couldn't hide his urgency as he spat out a sharp remark. "You better show up at the clerk's office tomorrow." I tilted my head and looked at him, suddenly reminded of eight years ago when he had presented me with fiery red roses and a sparkling diamond ring. He knelt in front of me, and his eyes were filled with love. He then proposed, "Patricia, marry me, and I will treat you well for a lifetime!" Those words still echoed in my ears, but now the man standing before me was a stranger. I tucked the divorce agreement away, and just as I stood up, a sharp pain like a needle stabbed through me, overwhelming me once again. I blacked out for a moment, barely managing to grasp the armrest of the sofa to keep from collapsing onto the floor. Dylan furrowed his brow as he looked at me. "Are you okay?" I avoided his gaze and shook my head. "I didn't eat breakfast. Perhaps my blood pressure is a bit low." Accepting my excuse, Dylan didn't probe further. He adjusted his wrinkled suit and said coldly, "Patricia, I hope we can part on good terms. You know what I mean." Of course, I understood. His company was thriving, they had just rung the bell in NASDAQ last year. The media hailed him as a talented young man of the new era, a handsome and wealthy CEO driving the stock price higher. If news of our divorce got out, it could greatly impact his company. Fighting against the nausea and dizziness rising within me, I gritted my teeth and turned to look at him. "Don't worry, Mr. Johnson. I know what to do." Dylan opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something else, but in the end, he didn't say a word and left quickly. 5 The next morning at nine, I spotted Dylan outside the clerk's office. Alongside him stood Christine, who was officially his assistant but had long since slept with him. The young, beautiful girl looked at me with a smug expression as if I were a defeated opponent. I couldn't help but chuckle and shake my head. Dylan had always preferred smart women, and clearly, this girl didn't fit that bill. He was just after a momentary thrill. "Dylan, you brought your lover to the divorce? You must hate me, right?" I couldn't resist throwing a jab his way. Dylan frowned and shifted his gaze to Christine, who was glaring at me like a triumphant general. But in the end, he still fell back into his usual routine, not bothering to find a proper excuse. "I've told you, Christine is just my assistant." I crossed my arms and sneered, pushing back with more sarcasm. "An assistant who sleeps with the boss?" Dylan's expression darkened further, and I could see a mix of surprise and confusion in his eyes. That made sense. After all, I had always been submissive around him, never once raising my voice before. "Christine, wait for me in the car," he said. I made it clear that I wouldn't get into the office with Christine around. So, Dylan had to dismiss Christine. "Mr. Johnson!" Christine exclaimed, her eyes wide in disbelief. Seeing Dylan's displeased look directed at her, she rolled her eyes at me and clicked away in her high heels. I couldn't resist jabbing at Dylan again. "Looks like your taste has declined. She's not as obedient as the previous ones." Dylan remained silent and headed into the clerk's office without a word. I shrugged in boredom, fiddling with my long hair, and followed him inside. 6 As I stood once again at the entrance of the clerk's office, both Dylan and I held our divorce certificates in hand. "Mr. Johnson!" Christine glowed with joy, rushed into Dylan's arms and boldly planted a loud kiss on his cheek right in front of me. She thought that with me out of the picture, she would soon take on the role of Mrs. Johnson. Dylan wrapped an arm around the slim waist of the young girl, giving her a tender smile before turning back to me with a blank expression. "If anything comes up—" "You're very busy, I know," I interjected, casting a pointed glance at Christine. "From now on, let's go our separate ways and stop tormenting each other." Dylan stared at me for a long moment as if trying to understand why I, just two days ago a madwoman insisting on spending my life with him, was suddenly acting like a different person, and wanted to divorce him. "Suit yourself," he finally replied indifferently, holding onto Christine as he began to walk away. I stood in the cold wind, watching their figures fade into the distance. The sunlight behind them cast two closely entwined shadows that looked like a couple in love. Snapping back to reality, I shook my head, tightened my coat around me, and stepped onto the carpet of fallen leaves, heading toward my dark future. 7 After the one million arrived, I quickly packed my bags and flew back to my hometown, Caelum City. Years ago, I had failed my college entrance exams, and my parents were determined that I should repeat a year and take them again. But back then, my mind was consumed by love and relationships. I couldn't hear what my parents were trying to tell me. After a big fight, I resolutely followed Dylan to Elyria City. Since then, I completely lost contact with my parents, even getting married without informing them. Now, as my life nears its end, the only thing I regret was losing my parents. In the taxi back to my old neighborhood, I looked from a distance at the direction of my home but couldn't bring myself to get out of the car and see them. "Sir, please take me to the hospital." Just as the taxi was about to pull away, I suddenly caught sight of two familiar figures out of the corner of my eye. I called out, "Wait!" Pressing my hands against the car window, I longed to see my parents, whom I hadn't laid eyes on in nearly ten years. They had aged. When I left home, their hair was still black, but now it was completely gray. I covered my mouth as tears began to flow uncontrollably. Sensing my quiet sobs, the driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror but didn't say a word. As my parents drew closer, I quickly lowered my head, too scared to let them see me. "Sir, let's go... let's go..." I tried to hide the bitterness in my heart and urged the driver to leave quickly. The car started moving. I turned to watch my parents walk toward me until they became two tiny black dots. When the car turned at the end of the road, I could no longer see them. Inside the closed vehicle, I felt free to let go, and I clutched my chest, sobbing without restraint. 8 The taxi came to a stop at the hospital, and I struggled to hold back the tears that threatened to overflow. "Mrs," the driver, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up just as I was about to get out. I paused and looked at him. "There's nothing that can't be overcome. Just hang in there." His words hit me hard, and just when I thought I had stopped crying, the tears broke free again, overwhelmed by a stranger's kindness. Seeing that I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe and even unable to walk, the driver decided to take me on a little tour around the hospital. After crying for nearly half an hour, embarrassment washed over me, creeping from my feet to my head. I wiped away my tears, pulled out my wallet, and said, "I'm sorry for taking up your time. How much should I pay you?" The driver smiled and waved his hand dismissively. "No need for that this time. We'll settle it next time." I didn't insist. I appreciated his kindness. After sincerely thanking him, I dragged my suitcase out of the car and headed into the hospital alone. This was the hospital I had contacted early that morning. Even though I knew my illness had lost any chance of being cured, I couldn't help but cling to a glimmer of hope. I really wanted to live. The nurse assigned to me was very young. "Mrs, are you here all alone?" she asked, likely surprised to see a late-stage cancer patient checking into the intensive care unit by herself. I nodded and offered her a gentle smile. "I'll come to visit you more often. Don't worry, the doctors here are really great. They'll definitely be able to help you!" I knew that what she said could have been a kind lie, but I still smiled and thanked her. 9 Carrying one million in cash, I decided not to live frugally, especially when faced with death. I quickly requested a high-end VIP hospital room for myself. The treatment process was painful, but knowing it could delay my death, I gritted my teeth and pushed through. One day, after finishing my usual round of chemotherapy, a nurse was pushing me back to my room when I suddenly heard a hurried whisper. "Patricia?" I turned my head and vaguely recognized the familiar figure rushing toward me. It was Donna, my best friend from high school. She quickly got down beside my wheelchair, her wide, watery eyes staring at me in disbelief. After graduating, I followed Dylan to another city and lost touch with everyone back in Caelum City. "God! What happened to you?" Donna exclaimed. She had always been loud and outspoken in high school, and it seemed she hadn't changed much. This wasn't the place for a long chat, so she sent the nurse away and pushed my wheelchair toward my hospital room. Once we were back in the room, she helped me lie down on the bed and then turned serious, demanding an explanation. "What on earth is going on? Where's that bastard Dylan?" Donna had never liked Dylan since we started dating and had tried to convince me to break up with him more than once. Back then, I was so infatuated with Dylan that I couldn't hear her warnings at all. I had almost cut ties with her because of what I saw as her "interference". But times changed. I suddenly realized that many people had seen through Dylan's true nature long ago and had tried to save me from falling too deep into the trap. Only I, foolishly enchanted by the beautiful future Dylan had promised me, ignored all their advice. I chose to ignore and disbelieve any unpleasant truths told to everyone. 10 "We got divorced," I told Donna. She got freat out. "Did he wrong you? I knew it! Dylan is a jerk! Those idiots at school used to worship him! That's a shame!" Donna ranted about Dylan for a full fifteen minutes without taking a breath. I couldn't help but laugh, but that laugh quickly turned into a violent cough that I couldn't control. Finally, Donna quieted down and her brow furrowed as she stared at me. "Patricia, you must be honest with me. What's going on?" Under her intense gaze, I felt an unexpected wave of guilt and instinctively lowered my head, fidgeting with the corner of the blanket covering me. But it was clear Donna wasn't going to let this go without an answer. With a deep sigh of resignation, I looked up at her. "I'm sick... I don't have much time left." Shock widened Donna's eyes, and tears gathered quickly. Just moments ago, she had been chattering away, but now she fell silent, tears streaming down her cheeks before she tried to wipe them away. The more she wiped, the more tears flowed. "Damn it!" Donna cursed, finally stopping her hand and letting the tears fall freely down her face. In the large hospital room, her sobs filled the silence. "Does that jerk know?" she asked after a long, heavy silence, her voice thick with sniffles. I pressed my lips together and, under her tear-filled gaze, slowly shook my head. "I..." In the end, she held back the rest of the curses she had for him. 11 "Donna, I need to ask you something." After she had cried and vented her anger enough, I finally found the courage to make my request. Donna crossed her arms and looked at me. "Go ahead. Say what you need to say. I'll decide if I can agree after you're done." Her voice still carried a heavy nasal tone from her tears. I tightened my grip on the edge of the blanket, knowing what I was about to say would upset her again. I kept my head down, avoiding her gaze. "Please, don't tell my parents about my illness. Just keep it from them." "Why?" Donna suddenly stood up, her chest rising and falling as she glared at me, clearly disapproving. I let out a bitter laugh but couldn't offer her a decent reason. With red-rimmed eyes, I pleaded, "Donna, please." Tears streamed down her face again. She cursed under her breath while trying to wipe away the tears that wouldn't stop. Seeing her like this made my heart ache deeply like it was being squeezed tightly by a large hand—no physical pain, just a profound discomfort. In the end, she didn't agree or refuse my request. As my treatment continued, the time I spent awake each day grew shorter, and after talking with her for a while, I would drift off into a deep sleep without even realizing it. 12 When I finally woke from my stupor, the first thing I encountered was pitch blackness so thick that I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. My vision had deteriorated significantly. Even today, I recognized Donna at first glance only because I was so familiar with her blurry figure. I hadn't been alone in the darkness for long when the nurse wheeled in a cart. "Patricia, there's a bit more fluid today, and it might take until tomorrow to finish. You can sleep. I'll watch over you since I'm on the night shift," the nurse said as she began to set up my IV with practiced efficiency. I smiled and replied, "Thanks for your hard work, Lisa." Lisa puffed out her cheeks and didn't say much more. After she secured the needle in my hand, she pulled up a chair and settled in beside my bed. "Alright, Patricia, you can rest easy. I'm here with you." She gently patted my head. Because of the treatment, my hair had been falling out in clumps every day, so I always wore a knitted cap, whether I was asleep or awake. I couldn't help it because being bald felt just too ugly. Her tone was comforting, like someone soothing a child, and that warmth made me smile. The unexpected encounter with Donna stirred memories I thought had long faded, invading my mind day and night. Those memories even led me to dream about the passionate moments I once shared with Dylan. 13 In my dreams, Dylan was still the same, always looking at me with a deep affection that felt overwhelming as if it could drown me. He would hand me a warm cup of milk before morning self-study sessions and casually say just two words, "Drink up." Those same words, spoken by the young Dylan, were dripping with sweetness. After evening school, he would push his bicycle and take me home, even though I lived in the opposite direction, insisting, "It's not far anyway, let's go." The four years of college leading up to our wedding were the most passionate times in our lives. "Patricia, don't worry. I'll definitely treat you even better in the future!" "After graduation, I'll be responsible for making money, and you just need to do whatever you like!" "You're amazing. You haven't had any stomach aches this month!" "Patricia, I love you so much. Just one look at you, and no matter how tired I am, I'll spring back to life!" "Patricia, my scholarship came through today! Let's go. I'm taking you out for a nice meal!" "Patricia, my proposal was accepted. You're my little lucky star!" "Patricia!" "Patricia..." This sleep was restless, filled with Dylan's ever-present voice echoing in my dreams. I struggled to wake up and realized it was already dawn.  The hospital room was empty again, and the nurse had left long ago. After an entire night of IV fluids, my cold hand had been gently tucked into the blanket by her. While I hadn't yet warmed up in the cozy blanket, it was enough to make me feel warm inside. 14 Since the day we ran into each other, Donna has been coming to the hospital almost every day to keep me company. It was then that I learned she had been married for a while and had a lovely three-year-old daughter. Sometimes, she would bring her daughter along to see me. The little girl was so soft and sweet, and every time she talked to me, my heart just melted. Today, Donna arrived earlier than usual. "Where's Zara?" I asked, looking behind her, but I didn't see the little shadow that usually followed her. Donna gave me a helpless look and said, "Don't look for her. Her grandma misses her, so her dad took her over there today." I let out a disappointed "oh" and didn't press her for more details. Donna sat down by the bed, and I noticed she kept glancing at me as if she had something on her mind. "What's wrong?" I finally asked, sensing her silence. After a long pause, she finally spoke up. "Dylan is looking for you." 'Looking for me? But why? Did he see that tape?'