"Don't do this, you still..."
Time and again, his words faltered under the weight of her gaze.
As a doctor, he had grown accustomed to the cycle of life and death, yet in this moment, fear of her impending demise gripped him.
Zoe mouthed to him, "I'm sorry."
Sorry for not being able to repay you in this lifetime, for having nothing to offer you.
If not for Edward, she would have perished on that snowy morning long ago.
He pressed his fingertips to his eyes, bowing his head.
Why? Why hadn't he met her sooner?
When had she seeped into his heart?
Perhaps it was her radiant smile, or maybe it was her vulnerable demeanor, needing protection.
He didn't know.
After a long pause, Edward lifted his head, his eyes rimmed red.
"I still hope you'll consider treatment, don't give up on yourself."
With that, he left, leaving her alone to stroke Christmas, her eyes dull yet harboring a hint of letting go.
Not long after that，Evan entered.
Seeing the cat in her arms, he felt a pang of discomfort.
Did the cat he had given deserve such affection from her?
"Zoe." He licked his lips, making them drier, igniting an urge to lick more, until they were completely chapped, blood vessels visible.
A term that once filled her with joyous bubbles now meant nothing.
He meant nothing to her anymore.
That was all in the past.
"Let's do chemotherapy, okay? I'll be with you."
Evan sat down, attempting to hold the hand that caressed Christmas.
Just as he touched her icy hand, she withdrew it.
He retracted his hand, swallowing hard.
"Zoe..."
She lifted her eyes, meeting his with a distant gaze, devoid of any love or resentment.
He had exhausted her dignity, patience, and affection.
How had they reached this point?
She shook her head.
Edward came to take Christmas away.
Without a word, his sadness was palpable.
Zoe refused any treatment, and they went home.
Evan inquired; the doctor said she wouldn't survive beyond three months.
Mrs. Aldrich continued to care for her.
For a full week, he didn't work, delegating tasks to his assistant.
He stayed by her side.
Over time, she would sweat from the pain, biting her lip at night to muffle her cries.
"I'll be back shortly." Evan took a call, kissed her forehead, and left.
Downstairs.
"What are you doing here?" His tone was cold.
"When are you marrying me?" Jocelyn was anxious, cutting straight to the chase.
Her plan was straightforward: Zoe's death would pave the way for her to become Mrs. Sterling.
But now, why wasn't it happening?
"Forget it. Just terminate the pregnancy; I'll transfer the money to you."
"No..." Her tears flowed instantly. All her efforts couldn't be dismissed by his words.
She, Jocelyn, was destined to be Mrs. Sterling!
"It's impossible... The baby is almost three months, feel, feel it... This is your child, feel it... This is a life, I can't... I can't lose it..."
Jocelyn, sobbing uncontrollably, frantically pulled his hand to her belly.
Evan brushed her off, stepping back, cold and ruthless, "Terminate the pregnancy."
"No... Don't do this... Right, Mr Sterling said you should marry me... I'll call her now..."
