

The year my boyfriend is dead broke, I leave him. Later, he becomes a mafia boss and uses every means at his disposal to marry me. Everyone says that I am the first love he can never forget, the wife he cares about the most. However, he then starts bringing home a different woman every night, making me a laughingstock. Still, I don't cry or make a fuss. I quietly stay in my own room, never interrupting his affairs. Elton Carter is furious. He pins me beneath him, kisses me harshly, and growls, "Aren't you jealous?" He has no idea that I'm gravely ill. He could buy half the city with violence, threats, and money. He could buy my freedom, my marriage… and each night bring a different woman home, oblivious to the truth. Little does he know, I have just seven days left to live.

The year my boyfriend is dead broke, I leave him. Later, he becomes a mafia boss and uses every means at his disposal to marry me. Everyone says that I am the first love he can never forget, the wife he cares about the most. However, he then starts bringing home a different woman every night, making me a laughingstock. Still, I don't cry or make a fuss. I quietly stay in my own room, never interrupting his affairs. Elton Carter is furious. He pins me beneath him, kisses me harshly, and growls, "Aren't you jealous?" He has no idea that I'm gravely ill. He could buy half the city with violence, threats, and money. He could buy my freedom, my marriage… and each night bring a different woman home, oblivious to the truth. Little does he know, I have just seven days left to live.

The night before our group trip, Raymond Kane tags me in the group chat and tells me to check my flight ticket. When I open the booking, I discover my ticket was refunded three days ago—without anyone telling me. Before I can even type a reply, the messages start pouring in. Madelyn announces, "I bet Ray that you wouldn't check the booking before we left. He got you to look it up yourself. That's cheating!" Raymond shrugs it off. "Doesn't matter. You still lost. She only just found out. Just book another one. We'll just have to sit apart." Their casual banter brings back a familiar ache. It reminds me of the time they bet on how long it would take me to realize my hotel room has been downgraded from a standard double to a shared triple, leaving me to sleep on a folding cot. And before that, they bet on whether I'd notice the art museum on our itinerary had been replaced with an escape room. Whenever I tell them it hurts, they always give the same tired reply. "How were we supposed to know you cared if you never said anything?" But they never ask. I close the booking app and open another one, searching for flights to Isvind. I imagine myself surrounded by the silence of a 5°F night, with the northern lights painting the sky above me. Perhaps a solo trip is exactly what I need.