Chapter 312 Is It Cancer?
Sarah was totally out of it during their hookup. She felt weak all over and barely managed to touch the corner of her mouth. Her fingers came away with bright red blood; she had coughed it up.
Oliver didn't notice. Maybe he was too caught up in the thrill of it all. When he finally did, he groaned, wrapped his arm around Sarah's neck, and kissed her hard.
He kissed her so deeply that the metallic taste of blood got pushed back into her throat, making her feel sick.
Sarah cried out in discomfort. It wasn't the intimacy that hurt, but some unknown pain.
She felt a wave of panic but had no one to talk to. Oliver, right there, kept indulging his desires without a care.
Sarah was exhausted. She lay in his arms, surrendering, her voice hoarse and soft. She begged him, saying she couldn't take it anymore.
But Oliver wasn't done. Back at the hotel, he pressed her onto the soft bed and went for several more rounds.
When it was finally over, he left, probably for work. Sarah slowly got up from the bed, cleaned herself, and took a birth control pill.
That night, when he wasn't there, Sarah woke up and went to the bathroom. In the white sink, a streak of bright red blood spread in the water. Sarah stared at it blankly, thinking she must be sick.
The next morning, Zoey came early to take Oliver to sign a contract.
Oliver straightened his tie and sat down at the table, eating breakfast like a gentleman.
Zoey waited on the side, glancing towards the bedroom. There was no sound from inside, and she guessed Sarah was still sleeping. She lowered her voice and asked Oliver, "What about Isabelle?"
Oliver almost forgot about Isabelle. Affairs like this were routine for him. He was always generous with women. After thinking for a moment, he said indifferently, "Send her an $8 million check and tell her not to call again."
Zoey understood this meant cutting ties. She always felt a bit sorry for Sarah and added, "And the others? Are you not planning to keep in touch with them either?"
Oliver looked up at her. Zoey's heart skipped a beat, feeling a bit nervous. "Sorry, Mr. Windsor, I shouldn't have asked."
Oliver didn't hold it against her and vaguely said, "We'll see about that."
His attitude was ambiguous, and for a moment, Zoey couldn't grasp his thoughts.
After finishing breakfast, Oliver went back to the bedroom to get his coat.
Sarah was still asleep, her face serene. He couldn't help but think of last night. Even when he pushed her to the brink, she never gave in, never agreed to remarry him, and never said she loved him.
Oliver let out a scoff. When did he start wanting to conquer her? She was just an ordinary woman who relied on others to get by.
He left without hesitation, realizing his recent need for Sarah was unusually intense. He figured it was just a novelty and that once it wore off, he'd get tired of her.
However, Oliver didn't want to let go. He still wanted to keep her by his side, as his wife for life. He could do without her, but he wouldn't allow her to be with someone else. So, having her as Mrs. Windsor was the safest option.
The suite door closed softly. Sarah opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling for a while. That familiar metallic taste rose in her mouth again. She couldn't help but get out of bed and run to the bathroom.
In the sink, another streak of bright red appeared.
Sarah looked sharply at the mirror, having a premonition that she was sick.
Oliver didn't restrict her freedom. She went to the hospital, and after a quick check-up, the doctor looked serious. The test report lay under a pen. The faint smell of medicine lingered in the air.
Sarah stared at the report, her voice very soft, "Doctor, is it bad?"
The doctor didn't hold back. He felt bad for Sarah and said gently, "Ms. Miller, I think you should get a more detailed check-up. Our first test might have been wrong."
Sarah murmured, "Is it cancer?"
The doctor couldn't hold back any longer and finally told her the truth. He nodded, "Yes. Based on your test results, your liver cancer is at Stage IIIA, which is considered intermediate. Without treatment, you have about a year to live. But if we can find a suitable liver donor, there's still hope. Ms. Miller, do you have any family? I suggest your husband accompany you for treatment. For patients..."
Sarah softly interrupted him, "I don't have a husband. I'm divorced."
The doctor was taken aback, then gently asked, "Do you have any parents or siblings? They're your best bet for a liver donation. If you do, try to get a match as soon as possible. This can't wait."
He handed Sarah his business card, saying, "If you need anything, give me a call. I'll set up the treatment."
Sarah thanked him, got up, and slowly walked out of the consultation room. The corridor outside seemed endless, stretching out long and cold.
She walked for what felt like forever without reaching the end. Glancing down at the tightly held business card, she felt grateful to the doctor, but she didn't want the treatment.
Dylan was in the detention center. Sarah knew that Oliver would never let go of that grudge for the rest of his life. He wouldn't easily forgive her and Dylan. Only one of them could live. If she died, maybe Oliver wouldn't be angry anymore.
The elegant business card was placed on the windowsill. A soft breeze blew it away.
Sarah left the hospital, not expecting Isabelle to find her.
In the sunlight, she looked pale, while Isabelle was so radiant, though with a hint of anger in her expression. Sarah thought Isabelle must have had a fight with Oliver.
Moments later, they sat together in a café.
Isabelle elegantly stirred her coffee and smiled charmingly, "You're not what I imagined. But that doesn't matter. You know, I've been with Oliver for over two years. We get along very well. Of course, I know he has many mistresses in Evergreen City, but I don't mind because I'm not Mrs. Windsor."
Sarah lowered her gaze, her tone very calm, "I'm not either now. You don't need to explain your relationship with him to me. In fact, we are the same now."
Isabelle wasn't pleased, "But you live with him, and you have a son together."
Sarah looked at her, "You can have one with him too," she paused and continued, "No one is stopping you, right?"
Isabelle was shocked. She didn't expect Sarah to act this way. Did she not care about Oliver at all? To Isabelle, Oliver was sexy and charming, but Sarah didn't seem to value him at all.
Isabelle wanted to say something, but Sarah raised her hand slightly and softly said, "Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."
Isabelle thought she was contacting Oliver. Sarah ignored her and went straight to the restroom, turning on the faucet. Water filled the sink, and she suddenly coughed. A few streaks of bright red blood flowed into the sink, rippling in the clean water.
Behind her stood Isabelle, who thought Sarah's coughing and trip to the restroom were because she was pregnant.
Isabelle sneered mockingly, "Mrs. Windsor, you say you don't care, but you're trying to tie him down by having a baby. To secure your position, you really are ruthless. But I also got an $8 million breakup fee. Don't worry, I'll part ways with him amicably. Of course, if he comes to me, I'll still welcome him. After all, he's quite good in bed."
Sarah's face was pale. She splashed cold water on her face, and after a while, softly said, "You're right. I am going to remarry him."
Isabelle stormed off in anger. Once Sarah was alone, she looked in the mirror and gave a faint smile. She was sick and wouldn't live long anyway. She wanted to trade her life for Dylan's freedom. As for Jacob, she knew Oliver cared about him a lot. Olivia would look after him, or she could trust Grace. Grace was a good person and had a blood relationship with Jacob.
Tears welled up in Sarah's eyes. She felt she owed Grace too much and didn't know how to repay her.
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