1

Ashley’s hands trembled as she clutched the lab report. The words blurred before her eyes, but their meaning was painfully clear. Without chemotherapy, she had less than a year to live.

A suffocating silence filled the room as she pulled out her phone, hesitating before pressing the call button. Her lips, pale and dry, quivered as she struggled to keep her voice steady. Finally, she swallowed hard and forced a casual tone.

“Izaiah, come home for dinner tonight.”

Her heart clenched the moment she ended the call. A sharp, stabbing pain coursed through her chest, making her legs weak. The world around her spun, and for a moment, she thought she might collapse right there on the cold hospital floor.

Somehow, she made it home. The apartment was empty, the silence heavier than usual. On the dining table lay a hastily scribbled note:

You're on your own for dinner tonight.

Not even a text message.

A bitter smile tugged at Ashley’s lips, her vision clouding with unshed tears. Was I expecting too much?

Shaking from exhaustion and hunger, she stumbled toward the mirror. Her reflection stared back—a pale, frail woman with a scar running down her cheek. Slowly, she traced the mark with her fingers.

So ugly.

No wonder Izaiah couldn’t stand the sight of her.

She had spent the entire afternoon preparing his favorite dishes. Now, they sat untouched on the table. She reheated the food again. And again. The minutes stretched into hours, the warmth of the meal fading each time she set it back down.

Why isn’t he back yet?

Then, suddenly—

A car screeched to a stop outside.

Ashley’s heart pounded. She hurried to the door, ignoring the pain shooting through her body. Was he drinking again?

The moment Izaiah stepped inside, the stench of alcohol and cigarettes hit her. He barely glanced at her before shoving her aside.

“Get inside,” he ordered. His voice was cold, clipped—like she was nothing more than an annoyance.

Ashley forced a smile, masking the ache in her chest. She poured him a cup of coffee, her hands steady despite the turmoil within.

“Izaiah, have some coffee to sober up.”

He scoffed, his dark eyes scanning her with disdain.

“Cold coffee? Even the maids can do better than this.”

The mocking words cut deep, but Ashley didn’t flinch. She had learned long ago how to smile through the pain.

He turned to leave, knocking over the cup in the process. Scalding liquid splashed onto the floor. Ashley stared at it, momentarily dazed. Then, without a word, she bent down to clean up the mess.

But before she could finish, Izaiah grabbed her wrist and dragged her onto the balcony.

The cold air bit at her skin. Behind her, the city lights flickered through the floor-to-ceiling window—a cruel contrast to the darkness suffocating her heart.

Without warning, Izaiah stripped her of her clothes. His touch was rough, indifferent.

Ashley’s breath hitched. She was terrified that he would recoil at her thin, scarred body.

"Why do you look so weak and sickly?" he muttered, disgust lacing his tone.

Ashley clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She didn’t resist. She never did.

She had loved this man for so long. Was this her reward?

Tears burned her eyes as she whispered brokenly, “I love you… Izaiah…”

Her words only seemed to fuel his anger. His grip tightened, his gaze darkening.

“Love?” he spat. “Your so-called love ruined my life.”

Ashley flinched but held onto him, pressing herself closer.

“Lie to me,” she pleaded, her voice raw. “Even if it’s a lie… just tell me you love me. I can’t survive without you.”

Izaiah wrenched himself free, disgust flashing in his eyes. Without hesitation, he shoved her onto the bed.

Ashley curled into herself, biting her lip to hold back a sob.

Not even a lie… he won’t even give me that.

When he was done using her, he stood up, adjusting his clothes with practiced indifference.

“Why do you treat me like this?” Ashley’s voice was barely above a whisper. She turned her tear-streaked face toward him. “This scar on my face… wasn’t it because of you? All I ask for is a little love.”

Izaiah’s expression hardened.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said coldly.

Ashley’s breath caught in her throat.

He hated her.

Despised her.

He wished he could erase her from his life entirely.

A broken laugh bubbled up from her chest. So this is love?

“Izaiah,” she murmured, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. “Do you still think I was the one who hurt Katelynn?”

His face twisted with anger.

“When I wasn't looking, she trampled on Katelynn’s dignity,” he said, his voice like ice. “And now, she’s begging me for kindness?”

Ashley closed her eyes, her heart crumbling into dust.

There was no kindness left for her.

No love.

Only pain.