I Sent Him 89 Voice Messages He Sent 89 Transfers Chapter 07

I Sent Him 89 Voice Messages He Sent 89 Transfers Chapter 07

He moved toward her step by step. Every step felt as if he were treading on blazing hot irons.

He reached out and touched her cheek.

Her skin was icy cold, as cold as an eternal block of frozen ice.

“Maya…”

His voice was hoarse and raspy, as if scraped by coarse sandpaper.

No answer.

He touched her hand. Same cold stiffness.

Her wrist was so thin it looked like it would snap. The back of her hand was covered in needle marks.

Cole pulled her into his arms.

She was light as a feather. No weight at all.

Her protruding bones pressed sharply against his chest.

“Maya Vance! Wake up!”

He shook her. His voice broke into a desperate sob.

“I’m sorry. I know I was wrong. Please wake up!”

“I’ll give you money. So much money. Just come back!”

The woman in his arms didn’t move. The faint smile on her lips pierced his heart painfully.

He felt for her pulse like a madman. Checked for breath.

Nothing.

Just dead silence. Just cold.

Cole held her and slumped to the floor.

Finally, the tears came. They fell on her pale face.

Four years.

Four whole years.

Every cold money transfer he sent had gradually driven her to the brink of death.

He thought she was greedy. A gold digger. A total fake.

He never knew she’d been carrying her father’s death alone.

The miscarriage. The agony of late-stage bone cancer. All the loneliness and despair.

He remembered the day she miscarried. She’d called him crying, over and over.

He’d been making milk for Ivy. He irritably ended the call and sent a condolence payment.

He remembered her begging him to come to her father’s base memorial service.

He’d been at the mall with Ivy, transferred money for funeral expenses. Didn’t even text back.

He remembered the eighty-nine long voice messages she sent.

He never listened to a single one. He sent eighty-nine transfers of identical amounts without reading a single message.

He remembered her asking if he’d be sad if she died.

He sent ten thousand dollars. No note.

Each transfer was like a sharp blade stabbing her heart.

Until her heart was shredded beyond repair.

Cole let out a wounded animal sound.

He slammed his head against the cold wall. Again and again.

Blood ran down his forehead. Blurred his vision.

His aide rushed in and grabbed him.

“Commander, please! Don’t do this!”

“Let me go!” Cole screamed, eyes blood-red. “Let me die. Let me die with her!”

The doctor arrived and examined Maya’s body.

“She’s been gone three hours.”

His voice was heavy with regret. “Swallowed a whole bottle of painkillers and sedatives.”

“She went peacefully. No pain.”

No pain.

Cole laughed. It sounded worse than crying.

She’d been in pain for a whole year.

Chemo. Bone metastasis. Agony so bad she’d writhe on the bed.

Biting a towel. Not making a sound.

And in the end, she used this to end it all.

Under her pillow, he found a thick notebook.

And a stack of neat receipts.

On top: the IOU she had written to Luke Rivers four years prior.