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Chapter 6
It would be my 26th birthday.
Flipping through the dozens of bright, colorful photos, I picked the one where my smile was the widest. Leaning over, I
whispered to the photographer, “Can you make it black and white?”
She hesitated. “That’s… kind of morbid.”
I grinned. “It’s fine. I need it for my memorial portrait.”
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That night, Louisa called, her voice as warm as ever. “Yulia, your birthday is coming up. Why don’t you celebrate it with us?
Yannick will be there too.”
I thought back to the way he stormed out the last time we spoke, how furious he had looked. I hesitated, then gently declined,
“Sorry, Louisa. I’ve already planned a trip with a friend. I’ll visit after I get back.”
I did not want my birthday to turn into some dramatic mess. To be honest, I had never really feared death. I had gone through
every mental breakdown and every moment of despair alone. Each time, the only thought running through my head was why was
I still here?
Maybe I had wished for it too hard, and now, the universe had finally decided to grant me my request.
But when the doctor put a real expiration date on my life, something inside me cracked. Suddenly, I was like a drowning person in
the middle of the ocean, desperately grasping for anything to hold onto.
It was not because I wanted to live.
It was just because I wanted to die with a sense of security.
For my birthday, I wanted a huge cake, a wild party, and to drink myself into oblivion with Quella. Instead, I passed out inside the
bakery.
When I woke up, I was already in the hospital. The bakery staff had called an ambulance, and for that, I was grateful.
But a small part of me also thought that if my life had ended right then and there, maybe that would not have been so bad either.
The doctor stood beside my bed, looking grim. “You need to be hospitalized.”
I gave him a tired smile. “No, I don’t.”
Walking out of the hospital, I spotted someone I had not seen in two days–Yannick. He was not alone. Next to him stood a beautiful woman I had never seen before, and he was smiling at her.
I clicked my tongue.
What a bastard.
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Chapter 6
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I got a call from Mom. My parents divorced when I was in middle school. They both had money–plenty of it—but neither of them
wanted to deal with me.
So, they just packed up and moved out, leaving me alone in a giant house with a maid who was hired to take care of me.
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