Jason walked in as I was eating hotpot alone on the rug. Though I knew he'd already dined, I kept my eyes on the simmering broth. He sat silently on the sofa edge - the quiet so deep I heard my slotted spoon drip. I timed my Wagyu slice perfectly: five seconds, then a light soy dip. The absurd scene: a woman in evening gown, kneeling at a low table devouring hotpot. Our downtown penthouse, once a marital home, was now mostly my solitary space. I cooked vegetables meticulously while he sat wordless beside me. Only when full did I rise, leaving the mess for Maria. In the bathroom, I removed the barely visible black mourning band from my sleeve. Folding it, my reflection caught me. As I reached for the bedroom knob, he finally spoke. "Alice." I turned, simply murmuring, "Hmm?" He was already striding forward, sweeping me into his arms. "If you need to cry, just let it out. I'm here." I looked up at him, my expression calm and serene. "I haven't shed a tear in years. Not then, not now, not ever. Go take a shower. Your clothes are picking up my perfume." He started to speak again, but I gently pressed a finger to his lips. As the sound of the shower filled the bathroom, the lingering scent of violets on him slowly faded. I pushed open the bedroom's floor-to-ceiling window, gazing down at the bustling city grid sixty-six stories below. If I were to leap from here, I wondered, would there even be a trace left? But which would be harder to bear: the soul-gnawing agony of chemotherapy, or the searing, instantaneous pain of a fall? 1 My phone buzzed relentlessly, a cascade of sympathetic messages. My finger paused on an unread voice note. The moment I tapped it, a boy's bright voice, clear as shattered ice, pierced my ear: "Happy birthday, Sis! Don't forget your strawberry cake~ And just between us, I recorded a hundred 'Happy Birthday' messages for you, so you have to live to be a hundred, so you can hear them every year!" A dull ache, like a hammer blow, slammed into my chest. I slid down the cool glass wall, slowly collapsing to the floor. No more. My only brother, Leo, had finally succumbed to the bone cancer, closing his eyes forever on the eve of my birthday. ...A rapid knock echoed on the bedroom door. He called my childhood name, his voice laced with an urgency I hadn't heard in years. In my daze, it was almost as if I were a child again, when he would tug my ponytail and sweetly call out, "Alice." "The bath's ready. Please open the door, let me carry you in, okay?" "Alice, don't scare me…" I leaned against the frigid glass, my eyes hollow as I stared at the city's neon glow. I wanted so desperately to tell him to leave, to go anywhere – after four years of living alone in this empty house, I’d long grown accustomed to the chilling solitude. He hadn't shown up for my mother's funeral four years ago; he hadn't been there for Leo's farewell just yesterday. His "return" now felt utterly superfluous. ...He must have learned about my illness. Lately, he'd been home every day, even his voice noticeably softer. It wasn't hard to guess why – both my mother and Leo had died from bone cancer, a disease known for its high hereditary risk in our family. I curled up on the sofa with my Maine Coon, watching a show, when he brought over a breakfast tray. "I made your favorite ham sandwich. Want some?" I set the cat down and sat at the dining table, but only spooned a bit of plain rice porridge into my mouth. "Would you mind coming to Grandma Helen's place with me for lunch?" "Hmm." As I swallowed the second spoonful of porridge, I caught his hesitant, unsaid words. 2 Outside the car window, the sycamore leaves were tinged with gold. Autumn had arrived, unnoticed. A cashmere scarf suddenly draped over my shoulders. "Careful, you'll catch a chill." At Grandma Helen’s estate, her eyes were filled with worry, none of her usual cheer. She sighed often. I sat beside her on the long sofa, but deliberately focused on the TV show, laughing loudly. "Grandma, look how funny that comedian's hat is!" "Yes, it’s quite funny. As long as you like it, Alice." Before dinner, I took a walk in the garden, only returning when the dinner bell chimed. Before I even entered the house, I heard voices arguing from a side room. "You need to cut ties with that woman, immediately! Can't you see Alice isn't herself anymore? She just lost her only family member, if you have any decency…" "You were gallivanting around overseas with another woman during Leo's funeral!" "I booked the fastest flight…" That was Jason's strained defense. "The hospital had already issued a critical condition notice! And you chose that moment to go abroad, with that hussy… Any woman would be driven insane by you!" "She insisted on coming along…" "Enough! What good is saying all this now? Just make amends during the time she has left." I stepped back, walked another loop around the garden, and then returned. When I got back, Jason was already waiting for me by the front door. He wore a coat, and in his eyes, for once, was genuine concern for me. "Where did you go? Couldn't find you anywhere in the garden." "Found a stray dog. Took it to the shelter." "Your hands are freezing." He came closer, reaching for my hand. My body stiffened. Perhaps my hands were just too cold; the warmth of his grasp made me instinctively tremble. He squeezed my hand, a little harder, as if trying to hold onto something precious. Seeing Grandma Helen standing by the inner door, waiting for us, I forced a smile and followed him back inside. 3 After lunch at Grandma Helen's, we said our goodbyes. I’d already quit my job. For the rest of my days, I simply cooked, ate, slept, consumed TV shows on my phone all night if they were good. Jason would tell me to stop, but I wouldn't listen. His tone was too gentle now, unlike our past arguments, which were always sharp as knives. This particular night, I stayed up all night on my phone. When he woke up the next morning and found me still glued to it, he took it away. "Stop playing. Let your eyes rest." But he was wrong this time. I was dealing with something serious. I was talking to a cemetery sales agent about a burial plot. He saw the screen and froze. I held out my hand. "I'm almost done. Give it back." He became like a caged beast, veins bulging on his clenched fists. He said nothing, just took my phone and walked out. I came out, picked up the cat by the door, and looked at the closed balcony door. He was out there, chain-smoking, almost swallowed by the haze. 4 In the days that followed, he was exceptionally good to me, indulging my every whim. If I fell asleep by the floor-to-ceiling window while watching the sunset, he would gently carry me to bed. If I lounged in the living room watching TV, he’d join me. He even experimented with foreign cuisines every day, ensuring no two meals were alike. Sometimes, I’d just stare, mesmerized, at him in the kitchen in his loungewear. Oh, and he thoughtfully removed all the calendars from the house, not wanting me to see the thinning stack of days. One day, scrolling through videos, I saw countless flower deliveries. It clicked. It was Valentine's Day. The bedroom door creaked open. I quickly shut off the video. He had something to say. "What is it?" "I need to go out for a bit." I paused, then simply replied, "Okay." He didn’t need to tell me if he was going out. After he left, I changed into a sweater, deciding to go for a walk. The afternoon sun cast a pleasant glow on the streets. We were running low on cat food, so I bought two large bags of cat treats and some of my favorite potato chips. My hands were full, but I still planned to stop at my favorite coffee shop for a hot cup. At a traffic light, I saw the coffee shop across the street. And I knew I wouldn't be having that coffee. Through the cafe's large window, Jason looked out, his eyes widening in shock. I hadn't managed to get away fast enough. Our quiet moment was shattered by my presence, and their festive warmth, too. Amidst the rush of people, I quickly turned and walked away. I didn't understand it today. Seeing Skye in a red dress, she still looked so vibrant. But the furious hatred I once held for her had completely faded. I remembered the first time I found out about her. I’d stormed over to her bayfront house, smashed things, and we’d fought tooth and nail, scratching each other until our faces bled. Now, looking back, it felt so childish. Carrying my purchases, I hailed a cab home. I fed the cat its treats, rubbed its plump belly, and sighed. Just like me, it loved to sleep after eating. After tucking it into its cat bed, I began packing my clothes. I planned to leave. The thought had crossed my mind before, for no other reason than knowing the very last days of my life would be messy, unsightly. I wanted to find a place where no one would be, to fade away in silence. I packed a large suitcase and carried it to the door, taking one last look at the home I had lovingly created. The sleeping cat woke, looking at me with bewildered eyes. In the taxi, I held the cat. Together, we gazed up at the sky outside the window.
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