i'm sorry for being born in this world

"Is it serious?" Catherine Thompson could guess from the doctors expression.

"Chemotherapy is still an option," the doctor said, looking at the report.

Catherine thought for a moment: "Just prescribe me some medicine; chemotherapy is too painful."

The doctor looked at her unusually calm expression and frowned slightly: "Its better to discuss this with your family."

Catherine nodded: "I know, I dont have any family."

Family? Mark Harrison? Discuss her condition with him?

Catherine could almost imagine Marks expression, he would definitely say coldly: "Leukemia? Do you think I would believe that?"

Leaving the hospital, Catherine wrapped her coat tighter around her, it was incredibly cold that day.

Back home, she stood in the large room like a silent ghost, then turned to take clothes and go to the bathroom.

Warm water slid down her snow-white neck, and she suddenly felt a nosebleed.

Two drops of bright red fell on the bathroom floor, slowly turning pale until they became transparent.

Catherine was stunned for a moment, cleaned up, and walked out of the bathroom, pouring the medicine from her pocket into a small bottle on the table. There were some uneven marks on it, carved by Mark Harrison.

At that time, she was still Miss Thompson, and he was Young Master Harrison. They were a perfect match and of similar age, so she quickly fell in love with this handsome young man.

"Catherine Thompson, take good care of it; this is one of a kind."

Catherine remembered that when he said this, there was no shyness of a common young man, only the pride of being the Young Master Harrison.

She stroked those marks and murmured to herself: "The name Mark Harrison, it is indeed one of a kind..."

Catherine looked out the window and remembered the day they got married. She walked into the wedding room shyly and timidly, but what she faced was Mark Harrisons cold words: "Get out, Catherine Thompson, it turns out you are no different from those women."

That night, Catherine learned that the happiness her grandfather had tried so hard to give her was just a means to save the Thompson familys crisis in this mans eyes.

Catherine sighed deeply and was about to take her medicine as prescribed when there was a noise at the door. The man walked in with a chill.

Catherine was somewhat surprised to see Mark Harrison and felt as if the world had changed.

The last time he came back was a month ago.

Marks face was expressionless, and he glanced at the white pills in her hand without a word and went into the study. In a short while, he came out with a folder and was about to go out again.

Catherine couldnt help but grab his sleeve and said, "Mark, can you stay and keep me company?"

Stay with me for the last days, will you?

Mark stopped in his tracks, and his indifferent eyes were stunned when they touched her thin figure.

When did Catherine become so thin?

Then he took back his gaze; how this woman was had nothing to do with him.

Mark exerted a little force and shook off Catherines hand: "Stay with you? What makes you think you deserve that?"

Catherine was stunned by his question and suddenly wanted to know, if Mark knew she had a terminal illness, would it be any different?

"Mark, I went to the hospital today..." Catherine just started speaking and was interrupted by the phone ringing. Mark answered the phone, and his voice was unprecedentedly gentle: "Whats wrong?"

Catherine clearly heard the coquettish female voice on the side, and she couldnt help but feel a dull pain in her heart when she thought about it. The person who could make Mark so gentle was none other than Lily Wilson. Thinking of this, her heart couldnt help but ache.

"Will you come back tonight? Im a bit tired."

"Be good, Ill be back right away." Mark said and hung up the phone, then walked out the door without even looking at Catherine.

"Mark Harrison, I went to see a doctor today, and he said its an incurable disease."

Catherine said the unfinished words to the empty room stubbornly.

The surroundings were quiet, and the only response she got was the sound of the wind and snow outside the window, blowing from the windowsill, as if someone was sobbing.