Here is the translation of the text into English: "I have cancer and am only expected to live for a month at most. What worries me the most is my son, who was conceived through in vitro fertilization while I was single. After a lot of effort, I finally found my son's biological father. I never expected him to be the white moonlight that I couldn't have, no matter how hard I pursued him, ten years ago. Ten years ago, he harshly rejected me, saying, 'Someone as thick-skinned as you should just go die.' He didn't acknowledge my son and used cruel methods to humiliate me. In an unexpected turn of events, my son really isn't his. Yet, on the day I die, he holds me and quietly sheds tears, gently whispering in my ear: 'I'm here to accompany you; this time, let me be the one who doesn't care about shame.'"
Chapter 1
I was diagnosed with cancer and only had about a month to live.
What worried me the most was my son, Ricky Morris, who was conceived through IVF while I was single.
After a lot of effort, I finally found Ricky's biological father. To my surprise, he was the same person I had been infatuated with ten years ago, the one I couldn't win over no matter how hard I tried.
Ten years ago, he harshly rejected me, saying, "Someone as shameless as you might as well die."
He refused to acknowledge Ricky and humiliated me with his cruel manners.
Unexpectedly, Ricky turned out not to be his.
Yet, on the day I died, he held me quietly, tears streaming down his face, and whispered in my ear, "I'll stay with you. This time, let me be the shameless one."
This was where the story started.
I never expected that Ricky, conceived through IVF, would be Jaxon Watson's child.
It had been ten years, but his gaze still held nothing but disgust, "Lilliana Morris, I used to think you were just shameless, but I didn't expect you to be so despicable."
Veins bulged on Jaxon's forehead, the blood vessels faintly visible beneath his skin. He alternated between facing me and turning sideways, hands on his hips.
"Damn!" Jaxon cursed. It seemed this was the most absurd thing he had ever encountered.
I no longer had the luxury of pride and slowly explained to him, "I swear, when I went through IVF, I had no idea you were the father. If I weren't dying, I wouldn't have come to you."
"Then go die, go on!" His roar was as merciless and fierce as it was ten years ago.
That day was Valentine's Day. I bought a bouquet of roses with a love letter tucked inside. I remembered the weather was beautiful, the sun warm, and my smile bright.
I gave him the flowers, my smile a little more bashful than usual, "Jaxon, I like you. Happy Valentine's Day. This is my token of affection. I hope you'll accept it."
Jaxon's expression was grim, his beautiful eyes as cold as ice.
He threw the carefully chosen flowers I had selected to the floor. My affection was shattered like the roses.
"Lilliana, you can't keep shamelessly pushing, everyone has their limits. Can you have some dignity? I've rejected you 231 times. Can you have some pride and stop pestering me?"
"Wow, Jaxon, you actually remember I've confessed to you 231 times. It shows you care about me too."
My heart was filled with joy, my love-struck state having long devoured my dignity.
Jaxon was beyond speechless, fuming, "You're crazy! Why don't you just die!"
Back then, seeing him angry, I would blame myself for not being sweet enough with my words. If I had said something sweeter, more enticing, would Jaxon have liked me?
Thinking back now, I wished I could slap my past self.
Pulling my thoughts back, I emotionlessly took the diagnosis report from my handbag, "Here are the diagnosis reports from both a prestigious and a general hospital. I'm not lying to you. Ricky is your flesh and blood. Please have mercy on him and raise him well, okay?"
I still had no dignity. As long as he agreed to raise Ricky well, I would even kneel before him.
Jaxon merely glanced at the report in my hand, took it, and threw it harshly to the ground.
"You're despicable, get out!" His eyes were filled with rage, more ruthless than ten years ago.
Ricky, who was eight years old, noticed something was wrong with me. I was curled up on the sofa, like an empty shell.
Ricky hugged my shoulders and cautiously asked, "Mom, what's wrong?"
The word "Mom" pulled me back to reality.
I forced a smile, "I'm fine."
He looked at me with a mix of suspicion and belief. Perhaps because of the IVF, Ricky was smaller than other kids his age.
I hugged him, and at that moment, I felt a surge of strength. He was about to lose his mom; I couldn't let him lose his dad too.
After giving up on Jaxon ten years ago, I decided never to marry or fall in love again. After careful consideration, I went for IVF. During the procedure, the sperm was chosen randomly. Who would have thought fate would play such a trick? The sperm turned out to be Jaxon's.
And now, I didn't have much time left. For Ricky's sake, I once again cast aside my pride.
I called Jaxon repeatedly over several days, sending text after text.
Jaxon finally agreed to meet me. The location was in a remote location, by a turquoise lake that stretched as far as the eye could see.
He wore a suit, tailored to perfection, fitting his demeanor well. I heard he was doing well now, working in high-risk demolition.