My Rich Ex Tested Me, I Died, He Crazed

Chapter 2

My memory drifted back to one year earlier.

Back then, Kael was still the hardworking laborer who, after finishing his shift, would hand me the last grilled sausage, warm, because he had tucked it inside his shirt against his chest the whole way home to keep it from getting cold.

He always wore work clothes that had faded to a pale gray after countless washes. There was always the faint smell of dust and sweat clinging to them, yet whenever he held me in his arms, I felt safer than anywhere else in the world.

We lived squeezed into a tiny rental apartment that cost only eight hundred dollars a month, with wind whistling through cracks in every wall.

When money was at its tightest, the two of us would share just one cup of instant ramen. He would always pick up the single slice of processed ham and place it onto my side, slurping only the plain broth himself.

"Lira, once I earn big money someday, I'll take you to all‑you‑can‑eat seafood buffets every single day," he would say.

I would smile and nod, agreeing readily, though deep in my heart I knew that as long as I was with him, even plain rice would taste sweeter than any feast.

Back then, I truly believed I was the happiest woman alive on earth.

He would panic and shout in alarm if I so much as nicked my finger while chopping vegetables, grabbing my hand and rushing straight to the neighborhood clinic. Whenever I ran a fever late at night, he would say not a single word, but simply hoist me onto his back and run through three dark, deserted streets just so I could get a fever‑reducing shot sooner.

We were penniless back then, yet our love was genuine and overflowing.

But gradually, without knowing exactly when it started, my body began to fail me.

At first, I started having nosebleeds frequently. Later, I felt weak all over, growing dizzy and seeing stars even after the slightest movement.

At first, I told myself it was only because I had been working too many part‑time jobs and simply lacked proper nutrition.

That belief shattered one morning while I was washing my face, blood suddenly gushed from my nostrils without any warning, and no matter how hard I pressed, it refused to stop.

For the first time, I felt true terror creeping over me. I secretly went to the community clinic to have a complete blood test done. Just the registration fee and examination cost ate up our entire living allowance for that whole month.

When Kael came home and saw nothing but a pot of plain rice sitting on the dining table, he froze instantly.

"What’s going on today? Why are we only having this?"

I smiled and quickly looked away, ladling a bowl and handing it to him. "I've put on a little weight lately, so I'm cutting calories."

He never doubted me. Instead, he reached out and gently stroked the top of my head, his eyes full of concern. "Cutting calories? Look how thin you've already become."

The test results came back soon. Several key figures were marked with arrows pointing upward, glaring bright red.

The doctor looked at the report sheet, his expression growing heavy and solemn.

"Young lady, your results are far from normal. I strongly advise you to go to a major hospital immediately and undergo a thorough bone marrow examination."

"Doctor… exactly what illness do I have?"

"It's too early to be certain. Please go to a specialized hospital and confirm the diagnosis first."

I walked out of the clinic, my hands and feet turning ice‑cold.

Late that night, I leaned against Kael's chest, feeling his warm body heat. Yet I could not shake off the chill that seemed to seep straight out from deep inside my bones.

I spoke carefully, testing the waters, "Kael… what if… what if I fall very ill, one that costs a fortune to treat?"

He wrapped his arms around me tighter, so tight his muscles trembled slightly with effort.

In the darkness, his voice sounded hoarse yet incredibly firm. "What nonsense are you talking about? If that day truly comes… I will sell everything we own, even tear down the house to get money if I have to... just to cure you."

I believed him completely. I engraved those words deep into my heart, holding onto them like a talisman against all unknown fears.

So when the official diagnosis paper bearing the words 'Acute Promyelocytic Leukemia' was finally handed to me, the first thought crossing my mind was not despair. Instead, I could only stare blankly at our bank account balance, zero, completely empty.

We had no house to tear down, no valuable tools to sell, nothing at all. Yet my life suddenly bore a clear, heavy price tag. It would cost hundreds of thousands of dollars just to begin treatment.

How could I possibly dare to tell him?