Reborn, I Stopped Begging for Love, Then They Cried With Regret Chapter 03

Reborn, I Stopped Begging for Love, Then They Cried With Regret Chapter 03

“Don’t take it personally.”

Grant poured me a glass of warm water and brought me some painkillers from the medicine cabinet.

I took them and swallowed two pills.

“Thank you.”

He studied my pale face.

“When I was sick, I used to spend whole nights awake too.”

“The doctors told me I had six months to live.”

“Every night, the pain was so bad I wanted to put my head through a wall. Even breathing felt like torture.”

“Everyone around me was waiting for me to die so they could divide up what I left behind. Nobody thought I’d make it.”

“But I didn’t want to die. I made it through chemo. I made it through surgery.”

“And I’m still here.”

He turned back toward the night sky.

“No matter how anyone else treats you, your life belongs to you. Don’t give up on it.”

For the first time since coming back, I knew what it felt like to be treated with simple human kindness.

I wrapped my hands around the warm glass.

“I understand.”

The next few days were relatively peaceful.

After Grant’s warning, Tessa stopped openly picking on me, though she still couldn’t stand me.

Whenever we passed each other, she would deliberately shoulder-check me. At dinner, she would make sure whatever I didn’t like to eat ended up right in front of me.

Evan always watched without getting involved, neither joining in nor stopping her.

I didn’t care.

That afternoon, I came back from a follow-up appointment at the hospital.

The doctor said my tumor was progressing faster than expected.

I had two months at most.

When I opened my bedroom door, I found Tessa rummaging through my canvas tote.

Evan was leaning against the doorframe, frowning as he watched her.

“What are you looking for? Get out before Dad sees you and chews you out again.”

Tessa refused to stop.

“Mind your own business.”

“I just want to see what she’s hiding in here.”

She flipped the bag upside down.

Several empty bottles of strong painkillers spilled out, along with a worn photo of Grandma.

When Tessa saw me in the doorway, she froze with one of the bottles still in her hand.

Whatever insult she had been about to make died on her lips.

“Why… why are you taking so many of these?”

She stumbled over the words.

I walked over and calmly took Grandma’s photo from her hand. Then I carefully wiped the fingerprints from it with my sleeve before sweeping the empty bottles into a drawer.

“Seen enough?”

My voice was barely above a whisper.

“If you’re done, zip my bag back up.”

Evan’s expression shifted as he looked from the empty bottles to Grandma’s photo.

He straightened and tugged Tessa by the arm.

His apology came out stiff but sincere.

“I’m sorry. She had no right to go through your things.”

I looked down at Grandma’s faded face in the photo.

“No need.”

“Nothing lasts anyway.”

The words sent a pang through Evan.

A mix of emotions crossed his face as he looked into my lifeless eyes, then he pulled Tessa out of the room.

Silence settled over the room again.

A little while later, my phone started buzzing nonstop.

Dad had sent more than a dozen messages.

Dad: [That bitch ran the lottery ticket through the wash and ruined it!]

Dad: [It’s destroyed! It’s all gone!]

Dad: [Did you know this was going to happen? Why didn’t you warn me before you left?]

Dad: [Now we’re talking divorce!]

Dad: [Get out here!]

As message after message lit up my screen, I could practically picture his furious face.

In my previous life, I had frantically rescued that ticket from the washing machine before it was destroyed.

And what had I gotten in return?

The second he got rich, he threw me away.

I typed back a short reply.

Me: [I don’t know.]

Then I blocked his number, silenced my phone, and tossed it onto the bed.

Another wave of pain pulsed through my head. I took a painkiller from the new bottle I had bought and swallowed it.

That evening, I went for a walk along the tree-lined road just outside the gated neighborhood.

The air was fresh enough to take the edge off my headache.

I had barely reached the corner when Dad blocked my path.