I didn't sleep a wink.

2.

Clement hadn't come back. The pains in my stomach became frequent. It was probably gastritis, an old one.

On the day of the premarital check-up, I put on the perfect makeup and drove to the hospital early.

The sun was shining, and I thought to myself as I looked at the bright sky, "I'm going to be twice as nice to him when we get married.

I love him. I get to be by his side as a wife for the rest of my life."

The great joy seemed to wash over me.

I didn't want to wait in the lounge, so I stood in the doorway.

I wanted to see him as soon as he arrived.

It was a bit hot. I bought two cold drinks.

An hour had passed since the appointed time.

He was late.

Besides, I couldn't get through to him.

The joy I had just felt was washed away. Anxiety paired with the searing heat. I swallowed half my drink in one gulp.

Suddenly, I had the most excruciating pain in my stomach in such a long time.

The sweat soaked my clothes.

My cell phone rang at the right time. I thought it must be Clement calling.

I forced the pain and answered it, my voice tinged with sobs.

"Clement..."

There was a two-second pause on the other end of the line. Then, a female voice came through.

"Ms. Hermosa, please bring your family to the hospital immediately. We have tentatively diagnosed you with stomach cancer..."

I saw a huge LED display in a mall across the street from the hospital.

Above was a photo of Windsor at the airport, and Clement was standing behind her.

I didn't hear what the caller said afterward. I only felt dizziness.

There was a piercing tinnitus in my ears.

Clement's face slowly zoomed in on the display. My heart raced with it, and then it went black.

3.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. It was already the afternoon of the next day. Xena Quirita was sitting next to me.

Her eyes were red from crying.

"Katherine, I will find the best doctor for you."

I had brought her out of the mountains, and she was now my agent.

I rubbed her head and shook mine gently.

I could only live for a maximum of 10 months without treatment for advanced stomach cancer.

But it was enough for me.

There was a missed call from Clement on my phone.

He had called me at two in the morning.

I called him back.

"Katherine, come back now."

He then hung up the phone.

I stuffed the critical illness notice into my bag. I looked pale in the car window mirror.

Xena took me home.