The video of me answering reporters quickly went viral.
Sean publicly responded, saying, "I will never divorce her, so stop bothering my wife."
That same afternoon, Zoey's journalist friend was fired.
Many online commenters criticized me harshly: "This woman is disgusting. If she didn't want to marry him, she shouldn't have. It's like someone held a knife to her back, pretending she had no choice."
"They say she is Sean's true love, but I think she's just a hypocritical social climber."
"Sean defends her so much, I'm even jealous…"
"This woman dumped Sean for money before, and now she married him for money again. She claims she's unwilling, just playing the moral high ground—just another hypocrite."
Suddenly, another user intervened: "Clean up your mouths. If you don't know the truth, just shut up." Everyone started pressing him for the real story.
The truth is quite mundane. That year, my mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness, which has a high hereditary risk.
Not only was I likely to fall ill at any moment, but any children I might have would probably face the same fate.
On the day my mother became ill, she lost so much blood through nosebleeds. She was unconscious for three days.
When she woke up, she asked me to break up with Sean.
I stared at her quietly and whispered, "He won't mind my condition."
It was as if I was trying to convince both my mother and myself.
My mother gently held my hand, nodded, and said, "I know, he's a good man." She paused, then smiled, "You two have been in love since high school. He used to wait for you at the alley on his bicycle every morning. Did you think I didn't know?"
"Once, I saw him buy a hamburger for your breakfast."
"He had only 5 dollars in his pocket. A hamburger cost 3 dollars, and with the remaining two dollars, he bought two bottle of milks—one for each of you."
"Back then, you were so naive and gullible. He told you he had already eaten, and you believed him, happily eating the hamburger."
"Little Smith was so pitiful back then. His parents were divorced and nobody wanted him.He lived on such a small allowance, almost like an orphan."
"That 5 dollars might have been all he had for the day, yet he spent it all on you."
"I thought my daughter was lucky to find such a good boy."
"He was good at his studies, a kind person, good in every way."
"It's because he was so good that I felt sorry for him."
That year, Sean's grandmother also fell ill and was hospitalized. He was raised by his grandmother and was very close to her.
To pay for her treatment, he was overwhelmed every day.
My mother said Sean's wings were too thin. If he had to carry his grandmother and me, he would never be able to fly.
I clenched my fists and after a long time, trembling, I said, "Mom... I can't bear to leave him."
That unwillingness to leave brought tears like rain. Even after ten years,I can still feel the pain.
I bought my mother's favorite persimmons and prepared to visit her grave one last time.
I'm dying and wanted to tell her that I won't be visiting anymore. Before going, I stopped by Sean's office to pick up something.
My mother had always liked Sean. That year, before she fell ill, Sean and I were still deeply in love.
My mother give us two lucky doll on her way back.
One with Sean's birthday hidden inside and the other with mine, for safety, health, and to keep loved ones together forever.
My mother asked me to give the dolls to Sean.Sean didn't want his doll; he insisted on taking mine.
He said the doll with the painted red cheeks looked just like me, adorably ugly. He said it reminded him of me, and he loved seeing it.
To this day, that doll was still on Sean's desk. I was afraid that once I died, Sean might throw it away like trash. It was a gift from my mother.
I needed to take it back to the front of her grave to keep her company.
When I arrived at his office, Sean was watching the video of me from that morning, where I mentioned I was dying.
Seeing me, he threw his phone aside, said nothing, asked nothing. I noticed the spot on his desk where the doll used to be was now empty.
Frowning, I asked him, "Where is my doll?"
