Chapter 1 #3
The driver clearly hadn’t expected someone to be walking alone on the empty road in the middle of the storm.
The car swerved violently.
Tires screeched against the wet road as the driver slammed on the brakes. But before the car could hit her, Amara suddenly felt her head go light.
Everything around her started spinning.
Her knees gave out beneath her as darkness slowly swallowed her vision.
The driver immediately pushed the car door open and rushed out into the rain.
“Miss! Are you alright?” the young man asked urgently as he knelt beside her.
He looked young, probably someone who had attended the same business party at the club.
But Amara couldn’t answer him.
Her body felt numb and heavy, and her consciousness faded in and out.
Without wasting another second, the man carefully picked her up and rushed her into the car.
“Hang on,” he said quickly. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Two hours later, Amara sat quietly in the hospital waiting room.
A white bandage was wrapped around her scratched arm, and a visible swollen bump had formed on her forehead where she had hit the pavement earlier. The swelling had gone down slightly after treatment, but the dull ache in her head remained constant.
The bright hospital lights reflected against the pale exhaustion on her face.
She sat silently in the chair with her hands resting lifelessly in her lap.
The hospital around her was noisy.
Doctors walked past.
Machines beeped softly in nearby rooms.
Nurses moved through the hallways while patients spoke quietly around her.
But Amara barely noticed any of it.
Her expression remained blank.
Empty.
“Mrs. Creed?”
Amara slowly lifted her head.
An older doctor stood a few feet away from her. He looked to be in his sixties, with glasses resting low on his nose and a serious expression on his face.
“I need you to come with me to my office, please,” he said calmly.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked toward the room behind him.
Amara rose to her feet and followed him silently inside.
The office smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee.
The doctor walked behind his desk before motioning toward the chair across from him.
“Please, have a seat.”
Amara sat down slowly.
Her eyes briefly dropped to the scratches on her arm. Other than the bump on her forehead and a few bruises, it didn’t seem like she had suffered anything serious. The injuries didn’t seem serious enough to explain the heavy atmosphere in the room.
“Did I break my arm or something?”
Her voice sounded weak and tired.
The doctor didn’t smile.
Instead, he slowly slid several papers across the desk toward her.
“There’s bad news,” he said quietly.
Amara frowned slightly and lowered her eyes toward the papers.
Brain scans.
Her eyes moved across the images before lifting back toward the doctor in confusion..
The doctor adjusted his glasses slightly before continuing.
“You have a mass pressing against your frontal lobe.”
It took Amara several seconds to process his words.
Her eyes slowly dropped back toward the scans again.
Then back at the doctor.
Her lips parted slightly.
“I have…” her voice came out faint and almost disbelieving. “A brain tumor?”
The words sounded distant even to her own ears, like she was simply repeating what he said instead of actually understanding it.
The doctor gave a slow nod.
“Yes,” he said gently. “I’m afraid it is a brain tumor.”
Silence filled the room.
Amara stared at him blankly for several long seconds.
Then she asked quietly,
“So… what happens now?”
Her fingers tightened slowly in her lap.
“Am I going to die or something?”
The doctor looked down at the papers for a moment before folding his hands together on the desk. Then he leaned slightly forward and met her eyes again.
“What I’m seeing from the scans…” he began carefully, “…suggests that you may have less than three months left to live.”
Amara blinked slowly.
“Three… months?” she repeated softly.
Her voice sounded confused.
Almost numb.
It felt like she wasn’t fully understanding the words being said to her.
Three months?
How was she supposed to react to that?
Was she supposed to cry?
Scream?
Laugh?
Her mind felt completely blank.
How was she supposed to react to something like that?
How was she supposed to understand it?
She just sat there staring at the doctor while the rain continued tapping softly against the hospital windows outside.
The doctor continued speaking gently.
“The tumor is operable,” he explained. “But the location is extremely risky.”
He paused briefly before continuing.
“We can attempt surgery to remove it. However… there’s a possibility that after the operation, you may not wake up the same.”
“Brain cancer…”
Amara repeated the words softly under her breath.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the doctor while the words echoed inside her mind again and again, sounding unreal. Like a nightmare she would eventually wake up from if she just waited long enough.
But the doctor was still sitting there in front of her.
The hospital was still noisy outside the office.
And yet everything around her felt unbearably quiet at the same time.
“…Okay.”
The word left her lips weakly.
Slowly, she gathered the papers with trembling hands and folded them carefully even though her fingers barely seemed to work properly anymore. Her brows were pulled together in a small frown, but the expression on her face looked strangely blank.
“I… I should leave now?” she asked quietly, lifting her eyes toward the doctor.
The doctor looked at her with soft, sympathetic eyes and gave a small nod.
He was probably realizing she was only twenty-four years old.
Twenty-four.
And her life was already ending like this.
Amara slowly rose from her chair.
She turned toward the door, but before she could leave, the doctor spoke again gently.
“Mrs. Creed, I think it would be better if you called someone to pick you up and take you home.”
Mrs. Creed.
The words echoed inside her head.
So loud it almost hurt.
She still remembered the first time she had heard it.
It was right after the wedding ceremony had ended. Juliet had rushed toward her excitedly and wrapped her arms tightly around her.
“You’re finally Mrs. Creed!” Juliet had squealed happily. “Look at your face! You’re glowing so much it feels like you’re about to light up the whole room.”
Amara had laughed so brightly that day.
Because only Juliet truly knew how much she liked Elias.
Her first crush.
The first man she had ever truly fallen for.
Marrying him had felt like a dream coming true.
After moving into Elias’s home, Amara had proudly asked every servant in the mansion to call her Mrs. Creed from then on.
She still remembered how happy she had been the first time she heard it. Her entire face had lit up as she stood beside Elias in the grand dining room, unable to hide the excitement in her eyes.
“Please call me Mrs. Creed,” she had said shyly but happily. “I like it so much more than just Amara.”
And after that, she fell completely in love with the name.
Whenever they attended parties or business gatherings together, she would cling happily to Elias’s arm, her smile bright and soft whenever someone greeted her as Mrs. Creed. Even hearing it from strangers was enough to make her heart flutter.
The relatives they visited called her Mrs. Creed.
The extended family called her Mrs. Creed.
Business partners and wealthy socialites at galas called her Mrs. Creed.
Even strangers did.
The barista at the coffee shop near Elias’s office smiled and greeted her with, “Good morning, Mrs. Creed.”
The staff at the restaurant they often visited whenever she didn’t feel like eating at home always welcomed her warmly the same way.
Even hotel staff during their trips addressed her by that name with polite smiles.
And every single time, Amara would smile so brightly like it was the happiest thing in the world.
As if carrying his name meant she belonged somewhere in his world… even when he had never truly stepped into hers.
But now—
For the first time—
When someone called her Mrs. Creed, it felt painful.
Mocking.
Cruel.
Because only a short while ago, she had stood outside that VIP room and listened to everyone talk about how Elias had never wanted her.
How she had been forced into his life.
How he was trapped with her because he was too kind to refuse.
How he quietly endured her like a burden he couldn’t escape from.
Amara suddenly felt like dead weight tied around Elias’s feet.
Something heavy he had been too polite to push away.
Something unwanted.
Something exhausting.
Something he tolerated instead of wanted.
“Okay,” she whispered softly to the doctor.
A small smile appeared on her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Everything inside her chest kept rising and crashing like violent waves, only to disappear and come back again before she could fully understand any of it.
She turned around quietly and walked out of the office with the papers still clutched tightly in her hands.
But the moment she stepped outside—
Reality hit her again.
Three months left to live.
The words slammed into her chest so hard she nearly stopped breathing.
A tumor.
Inside her head.
Three months.
Her steps suddenly slowed.
And for the first time since hearing the diagnosis—
Fear finally settled inside her chest.
Her fingers started trembling violently around the papers.
Her breathing became uneven.
Three months?
How could someone die in just three months?
How was that even possible?
Just three months ago, she was planning anniversary gifts for Elias.
And now suddenly—
She was dying?
Amara stopped in the middle of the hallway as panic slowly rose inside her chest.
The hospital lights above her suddenly felt too bright.
The noises around her became louder.
Her breathing grew shakier and shakier as tears slowly filled her eyes again.
Three months.
She only had three months left to exist in this world.
“How can I…”
The words got stuck painfully in Amara’s throat.
She couldn’t even finish the sentence.
She lowered herself slowly into one of the chairs in the hospital hallway, the medical papers trembling violently in her hands. Her breathing was uneven as she pulled her phone out of her purse with shaky fingers.
Then she searched for Elias’s name and pressed call.