Chapter 366


    "Brett, you bloody bastard. What have I ever done to deserve this? I''ve given my life for you; what


    more do you want? Do you need to see me die to be satisfied?" Izabe started hitting and cursing


    at him in his arms, wishing she could bite this man who had tormented her for half of her life to


    death.


    Feeling the sting on his hand, Brett reflexively loosened his grip on Izabe. He stepped back and


    stared nkly at the blood on his hand.


    Time seemed to slow down. He looked at his hand for a moment, then raised his head. He first


    looked into Izabe''s red eyes, then slowly lowered his gaze to the cat in her arms. Both them were


    ring at him as if his hug was an unforgivable offense.


    Sometimes words can hurt more than physical pain. Brett felt as if his heart was bleeding. Tears


    kept streaming down his face, wetting it.


    It hurt so much that it was unbearable.


    Even when he was rushed to the ER with a lung cancer attack, he hadn''t experienced such pain.


    Izabe was really ruthless; she didn''t have a shred of mercy for him.


    Before, she would feel bad for him when he coughed from smoking. But now, even though he was


    crying out in pain, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth, she didn''t change her expression at


    all.


    He wanted to tell Izabe that he had lung cancer and that he was dying.


    "Izabe, it hurts so much." He clutched his chest and fell to his knees. "Izabe, are you really


    leaving me? Izabe, Izabe, Izabe, Izabe."


    He kept repeating her name, his voice choked with sobs, his body convulsing in pain.


    Izabe held the cat and looked down at him from above. After a while, she said, "I never wanted


    you; how can I not want you now?"


    Brett couldn''t control himself and vomited blood. He covered his mouth, trying to swallow the blood


    back, but it kept gushing out, wetting his palm and seeping through his fingers, making him feel


    sticky and ufortable.


    Perhaps due to the extreme stress, Brett''s tears flowed even more.


    Brett croaked, "Izabe, I''m sick."


    Izabe looked at Brett coldly as he vomited blood. She said coldly, "Sick? How can you be sick?


    You''ve always been healthy. I''ve never seen you sick. Just a bit of blood,some medicine, and you''ll


    be fine, right? Brett?"


    Brett listened to the familiar words, his eyes zing over.


    So this was karma. The harsh words he once said to Izabe were now all bouncing back at him.


    He knew he had no right to ask Izabe to be with him again. But he was dying; his only wish was


    for Izabe to spend more time with him, to prove that they had truly loved each other once. But


    even this small wish, Izabe wouldn''t help him fulfill.


    He wanted to tell Izabe he was dying and that he only had two years left. He was really going to


    die; there would no longer be a "Brett" bothering her.


    Brett sobbed, "Izabe, give me a year. Please save me."


    "If you want someone to save you, you should go see a doctor, not me." Izabe''s gaze shifted to


    the window. The wound that had healed three years ago was ripped open again. She remembered


    her past struggles in despair, hoping someone could save her. Brett''s appearance made her


    mistakenly think he was the one to save her, but she didn''t expect his arrival to shatter herst


    hope.


    Izabe pondered over Brett''s words. He said he was sick; his chest hurt, and he hoped she could


    give him a year.


    A year.


    Izabe didn''t understand why Brett was fixated on this year. To her, Brett was a selfish, greedy


    man who would trap her for life once he got hold of her.


    She had tried to escape from him many times in the past, only to end up being chained by him,


    crippling her legs.


    For Brett, a year was far from enough to satisfy his needs.


    This is the property of N?-velDrama.Org.


    Maybe he was just ying pathetic to make her let her guard down. If she were foolish enough to


    pity him and agree to his request, there would definitely be some twists and turns a yearter.


    The blood Brett spat out didn''t seem fake. Izabe petted Nikki''s head to soothe it, then took out her


    phone from her bag and called Liam.


    As soon as the call connected, Izabe said, "Liam, your boss is vomiting blood. If he doesn''t get to


    a hospital soon, he might die."


    Compared to Brett coldly watching her vomit blood, she was being quite merciful.


    Having made herself clear, she hung up without waiting for Liam''s response.


    Brett, who was lying on the ground, managed to stand up with difficulty. He clutched his chest,


    leaning forward slightly. His face was pale, and his lips were stained red with blood, making him


    look even sicker.


    Brett felt an immense heartache as Izabe finished her call. He wiped the fresh blood from the


    corner of his mouth, his face full of pain.


    "Izabe, are you really that heartless?"


    Heartless? Izabeughed when she heard this. So this was being heartless?


    "Brett, do you know what you were to me?" Izabe asked indifferently.


    "What?"


    "A star."


    Brett felt bitter. He always believed that Izabe loved him. Even without Ryker and even without


    the misunderstanding, Izabe would still love him.


    Izabe continued, "I used to think you were a bright star. But then I realized it didn''t matter if there


    was one more star or one less. I me myself for having a narrow horizon and for mistakenly


    thinking you were the only one for me. It''s hrious when I think about it now."


    Time really can wear away all emotions. No one suddenly stops loving you; it''s just that you


    suddenly realize it.


    Brett''s breath hitched after hearing Izabe''s words. His haggard face no longer held the pride it


    once did.


    The most heartbreaking thing wasn''t that she didn''t like him anymore, but that he obviously had her


    once, but because of his harm, she gave up on him.


    Brett didn''t know how to deal with this rtionship. What should he do? Could someone tell him?


    Love was really hard to handle.


    "I''m going home."


    For Izabe, that shabby little apartment was her home, a forty-minute trek away. As for Brett,


    without Izabe, everywhere felt like aimless wandering.


    Izabe, cradling her cat, walked away from Brett. The sun shone brightly outside, and she didn’t


    hesitate in her steps.


    Brett gazed at Izabe’s retreating figure with a gloomy expression on his face.


    He was sure that even if he were to copse and cough up blood right now, she wouldn’t look back.


    He couldn’t help but remember Izabe from six years ago. Back then, Izabe hadn’t been


    diagnosed with stomach cancer. She was alwayspliant and greeted his irritability with a smile.


    She always prepared his meals, no matter how busy she was. Knowing his obsession with


    cleanliness, she never let the maids wash his clothes. Instead, she washed them herself and hung


    them neatly in the closet.


    Her health had always been poor, but he never cared or thought about it. He forced her to sleep


    with him. She was ufortable but never refused, tolerating the pain.


    He always scolded her for being useless, even though she was so strong.


    Izabe was not useless at all, but he realized it toote.


    The gentleness she never refused in the past was because she still loved him. Now that she didn''t


    love him anymore, she was no longer timid.


    Izabe''s figure gradually blurred in his eyes. He stumbled forward, reaching out his hand.


    He didn''t want to lose her, but fate didn''t favor him.


    “Izabe, Casey isn''t who you think he is. Ryker is dead!”


    Izabe paused in her steps but continued walking, her calm heart now in turmoil.


    She had prepared herself for the fact that Casey wasn''t Ryker, but hearing the "truth" from Brett still


    hurt.


    It turned out that she had mistaken him for someone else at first nce.


    Liam had been watching from upstairs until Izabe called him. He then came downstairs.


    He fetched some medicine and a ss of water from the first floor.


    Brett had just been discharged from the hospital, and his body hadn''t recovered; he couldn''t bear


    the slightest difort.


    He leaned against the door, his fingertips stained with dried blood, his body trembling slightly.


    Liam handed Brett the medicine. Brett coughed, “I don’t want to take it.”


    “If you don’t, you’ll die.”


    Brett, trembling, took the two pills from Liam’s hand and threw them into his mouth.


    Liam offered him water, but he pushed it away, chewing and swallowing the pills directly. Having just


    vomited blood, his throat was sticky and ufortable. The pills stuck in his throat, the bitter taste


    slowly spreading.


    Brett grimaced with difort, his face twisted in pain. He wondered how Izabe, who hated


    bitterness, could have taken this medicine for three years.


    The medicine was too bitter. Brett couldn’t help but retch, almost vomiting the pills back up.


    He covered his mouth, tears sliding uncontrobly down his cheeks after the bout of nausea.


    He hadn’t done anything but take a pill, yet he broke out in a cold sweat. His head felt heavy, and


    his vision was blurred.


    He felt so cold. Besides his body, his heart was the coldest. It was as if his ribs had cracked open,


    letting the cold air seep in and freeze his organs, causing him pain.


    Liam helped Brett to the couch. As soon as he sat down, he leaned heavily against the couch, his


    large figure curled up and shaking uncontrobly.


    Brett was in a daze from the pain. Had Izabe felt the same cold and pain when he handcuffed her


    to the balcony and made her kneel on shards of ss all night?


    She had been right.


    He had bullied her relentlessly because he knew she loved him, which only pushed her further


    away.


    He once had all of Izabe, but now, even if he were dying, she wouldn’t spare him a nce.


    Brett didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. The doctor said he could live for two or three


    years in his current condition. Now, though his body was alive, his heart was already dead. He didn''t


    know if he would die or go insane first.


    Under normal circumstances, it took 40 minutes to get from Flower Garden to the apartment. If


    there was traffic jam, it could take an hour.


    Unfortunately, Izabe hit traffic jam on her way back. The driver was obviously a novice, and his


    driving made Izabe feel sick.


    Izabe felt a little carsick. She held Nikki in one hand and pressed her forehead against the car


    window with the other.


    The driver nced at the woman in the backseat through the rearview mirror. Maybe he was also


    feeling awkward about his poor driving skills.


    "Hey, where''d you find that cat? Its fur is all gone."


    "I didn''t find it."


    "Did you adopt it from a pet rescue center?"


    Izabe didn''t respond. She had a headache, and her eyes were closed, making it hard to see her


    expression.


    Seeing that she didn’t respond, the driver muttered to himself, "You picked the wrong cat. Look at all


    its old wounds. This cat has been abused and is sick. It won''t live long."


    Izabe opened her eyes and asked, "Can you just focus on driving?"


    The driver shut up at her harsh tone but couldn''t help sneaking another look at the cat, thinking to


    himself, "That thing is hideous."