Love even after

On my twenty-fifth birthday, I discovered my boyfriend of seven years and my best friend were having an affair.

They gave me matching necklaces-a sea and a mountain-the very set I had picked out for him as a symbol of our love. It was their silent confession, a confirmation of the betrayal I had just witnessed.

Later that night, my best friend was attacked. I rushed to her side, only to be met with my boyfriend's fury. He accused me of being selfish and late, then broke up with me, leaving me alone and bleeding in the snow after I coughed up blood from my terminal lung cancer.

He didn't see the blood. He didn't know I was dying. He just saw me as an inconvenience.

My world shattered. I had been hiding my illness to spare them pain, only to find they were building their happiness on my quiet suffering.

I received his call from the hospital, not out of concern for me, but because he had just discovered the truth about my cancer. He was too late.

I was already on a plane to Oregon, having sent my final message: "I love you both. Always. Find your happiness. I'll be okay." This was my last gift to them-their freedom, bought with my life.

Chapter 1

Alycia Lawson (POV)

The rain hammered against the window, a relentless drumbeat against my already aching chest. I traced the condensation with a trembling finger, each breath a shallow, painful effort. I knew it was my lung cancer, eating away at me, but tonight, the cold dread had nothing to do with my body failing. It was about something far more insidious, something that felt like a betrayal of my very soul.

I saw them through the kitchen door, their shadows dancing on the wall, intertwined and impossibly close. Kyle, my boyfriend of seven years, and Carmelita, my best friend, my sister. Their laughter, soft and intimate, cut through the storm outside and lodged itself in my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, a wave of nausea washing over me, but the image was already burned into my mind. Kyle' s hand, so familiar, brushing Carmelita' s cheek. My stomach clenched.

My twenty-fifth birthday. A milestone I wasn't sure I'd reach. And this was my gift.

I watched as Carmelita leaned in, whispering something into Kyle' s ear. He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile I hadn' t seen directed at me in months. Then, she pulled back slightly, and a glint of metal caught the faint light from the living room. It was a necklace. A delicate silver chain, with a small, perfectly sculpted wave pendant. My heart dropped to my feet. I knew that necklace.

It was one half of the "sea and mountains" set I had picked out for Kyle weeks ago. He had told me he loved it, the concept of two halves completing a whole, representing our enduring bond. Our bond.

I remembered the day I bought it. It was a small, independent jeweler, hidden away on a side street. I' d spent hours agonizing over the perfect gift, something meaningful for our seven-year anniversary-a gift that had become my birthday gift, as he' d said our love was eternal, transcending dates. He' d kissed my forehead then, his eyes full of a warmth that now felt like a distant memory. He' d promised he would cherish the mountain half, always keeping it close to his heart, just as I would keep the sea. He' d said it was our symbol. A quiet promise between us, our future entwined.

But now, the sea was around Carmelita' s neck. And the mountain? I knew where it would be.

My chest tightened, a sharp, searing pain that wasn't just the cancer. It was colder, deeper. A betrayal that cut through every layer of my carefully constructed peace. How could they? How could she? Carmelita, who had been my rock since we were kids in foster care, who had sworn to protect me from everything. She was my fiercest defender, my only family.

A faint buzz vibrated from my pocket. It was the reminder for my next cancer treatment, a gentle nudge from my phone to face my other, more physical, battle. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth. I was dying, silently, and they were falling in love, just as silently.

I waited in the dim hallway, leaning against the cool wall, trying to regulate my breathing. Each minute felt like an hour, each second a slow torture. Their hushed voices, the occasional soft touch I glimpsed, made the air thick with an unspoken truth. My heart pounded, a frantic bird trapped in a cage, threatening to burst through my ribs.

Finally, Kyle' s voice, a little louder this time. "She'll be up any minute."