"Mira, you know everything, don't you?" Vera walked toward her, each step deliberate, measured. "I don't mean to steal your husband. I just want to live without regrets. After the wedding, I’ll return Elias to you."
Mira’s lips curled into a bitter smile. Return him? She didn’t want him. Not now, not ever. Dirty men...
Vera continued, oblivious to the bitterness in Mira’s heart. "And... Mira, why are you sick?" She pulled out a CT scan report, her voice quiet but penetrating. "It’s a brain tumor."
Mira’s heart tightened at the words. She frowned.
"I’m guessing you don’t want Elias to know. So, I asked a family doctor to help keep it a secret. But when you’re ready, you can tell him," Vera said, her tone almost too thoughtful.
Mira couldn’t help but smile, a cold, detached smile. "There’s a brown envelope in my bag. Give it to Elias and ask him to sign it."
Vera immediately found the envelope, her eyes widening when she saw the contents.
"You’d better not let him know this is a divorce agreement," Mira said, her voice sharp. "Otherwise, your wedding may not happen as planned."
Vera’s smile remained, but it shifted into something smug, self-assured. "Mira, I didn’t mean to take your husband. But Elias fell in love with me. He’s a light in my dark life. Thank you for your help."
She tucked the envelope under her arm and headed for the door. But before she left, she turned back with a sly smile.
"He likes it with me, you know," she said, her voice dripping with venom. "He tossed and turned all night, wouldn't let me go. No matter how much I begged, it was useless. He said you were like a piece of wood in bed—no passion."
After Vera's departure, the ward fell silent once more.
Mira lay still on the bed, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. A smile, empty and hollow, tugged at her lips. So, this is what it feels like... to lose everything—your heart, your will, your purpose. It makes you invulnerable.
The next day, Mira was discharged from the hospital. Her phone buzzed with a message containing flight details to Manchester, England. She was set to depart in four days.
Despite the turmoil inside, she carried on with her daily routine, masking any signs of distress. She went into work as usual, her composure unwavering, her movements deliberate.