Chapter 5 What Am I Even Hoping For?

"Hey, you alright?" The man's deep voice cut through the rain.

"I'm fine, thanks," Wendy said, trying to pull away from his grip.

The man frowned a bit. "It's pouring out here. It's not safe to be out in this weather."

Wendy shook her head, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I know. Thanks for worrying."

The man studied Wendy's pale face, feeling a strange sense of familiarity, but he couldn't figure out where he'd seen her before.

She reminded him of his brother, who was just as stubborn, refusing help even after losing his sight.

Wendy didn't say anything else and turned to leave. The man watched her walk away, lost in thought.

Wendy wandered aimlessly through the rain-soaked streets, like a specter.

The cold seeped into her bones, spreading through her veins and into every part of her body.

She knew this would only worsen her condition, but she couldn't bring herself to return to that cold, empty house. She didn't want to face Juniper and Sarah.

In a daze, Wendy overheard a mother and daughter talking nearby.

"Mommy, is that lady crying?" the little girl asked softly.

The woman patted her daughter's head but didn't answer.

"Why is she crying? Is she scared?" the girl asked again.

"Maybe she's scared, or maybe she's sad," her mother replied, her voice growing faint.

Wendy tilted her head back, letting the rain wash away her tears, and gently held her stomach.

Yes, she was scared and sad. She was scared when she went to the hospital alone, scared during the check-up, scared when she was called into the diagnosis room, and terrified when she received the news of her liver cancer.

But what she feared most was dying so soon, leaving her elderly grandmother, Margaret, all alone.

With that thought, Wendy hailed a cab from the side of the road. The taxi pulled over, and she climbed into the back seat, closing the door behind her. The cold seemed to stay outside, and she finally felt a small sense of relief.

"Where to, miss?" the driver asked, turning to look at her.

"Sunset Gardens," Wendy replied softly.

As the car drove on, Wendy felt waves of pain in her stomach. She curled up, trembling and letting out soft moans.

The driver heard her sobs and saw her frail figure shaking in the rearview mirror. He had seen people cry in his cab before, but never with such despair. The air inside the car felt suffocating.

"Miss, are you okay? Did you have a fight with your family? Or is work not going well?" the driver asked.

Wendy didn't respond.

The driver continued, "There's no obstacle you can't overcome. Try to stay positive. Go home, take a hot shower, and get some rest. Tomorrow is a new day."

Wendy looked up and gave a bitter smile. "Thank you."

She hadn't expected that in a moment like this, the only comfort she'd receive would come from a complete stranger.

The driver smiled and kept driving.

When she got out of the cab, Wendy dragged herself back to her cold home.

Juniper was already asleep, and the darkness of the house swallowed her up, the chill seeping into her bones. She kicked off her shoes and staggered to the bathroom.

As the bathtub filled halfway, she felt all her strength leave her. She collapsed into the water like a puppet with its strings cut, causing it to splash everywhere.

Her plain dress spread out in the water like wilting petals. She closed her eyes, letting her body sink, the water covering her head. The world went silent, save for the dull thud of her heartbeat in her ears.

Moments later, the need for air overwhelmed her. She instinctively opened her mouth, and water rushed in, making her stomach churn.

Wendy's eyes flew open, bloodshot, as she struggled to lift her head above the water, clinging to the edge of the tub and retching painfully.

Her empty stomach heaved, bringing up only bitter bile that burned her throat. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

After vomiting, she looked at the mess on the floor, streaked with blood, and let out a self-mocking smile, her eyes hollow and filled with despair.

She numbly took off her dress and used it to clean the floor, thinking she couldn't let Ethan see her like this.

As night deepened, Wendy walked barefoot back to her bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

Once, she had been full of hope for the future. Now, she felt all her efforts had been in vain.

Years of dedication had led her to this desperate situation. From the initial love to the current heartbreak, it felt like a nightmare.

That night, her tears soaked the pillow. She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the bitterness, 'My heart's already broken, so why does my body have to suffer too?'

Her phone suddenly lit up on the table, and Wendy tensed, quickly reaching for it.

Seeing that the caller wasn't Ethan, her eyes dimmed, and she felt drained of her last bit of strength.

"Why? What am I still hoping for?" Wendy muttered, her fingers trembling as she answered the call.

"Susan," Wendy's voice was hoarse and dry, like it had been scraped with sandpaper.

Susan Hill was her college friend. They had been inseparable at Horizon Medical College, discussing medical problems and dreaming of becoming great doctors.

But Wendy had given up her studies for love, entering the confines of marriage, and gradually lost touch with Susan.

On the other end, Susan's voice was filled with concern. "Wendy, what's wrong with your voice? Are you feeling unwell?"

"It's nothing, just a bit tired. I just woke up..." Wendy's words were cut off by Susan. "Wendy, are you sick?"

Wendy felt a lump in her throat, her heart heavy with sorrow. She didn't know how to respond, so she remained silent, smiling bitterly.

Susan pressed on, "What's wrong? You can tell me, you know."

Gazing out into the darkness outside the window, Wendy slowly shook her head. "It's nothing."

Susan sighed. She knew how stubborn Wendy could be, so she changed the subject. "How did your hospital check-up go?"