I remembered that man, just a kind stranger who saw me fall and helped me. We exchanged a few words, and I smiled out of courtesy. But in Daniel’s eyes, that smile was a knife to his pride and his possessive love.
My blood boiled, Daniel continued writing. I wanted to run out there and punch him, to scream, “Get your filthy hands off my wife.” But then I looked at myself, a a skeleton waiting for death. What right do I have to be jealous? What right do I have to forbid her from smiling at others? I was the one who threw her out.
I read those tormented lines with a mixture of sorrow and tenderness, jealous of a stranger, with a fierce jealousy like that of a child whose toy is taken away. But then he retreated into his shell of self-pity. His love was both noble and mundane, generous and selfish in a moving way.
He seemed like a good guy. The next paragraph was written in a clumsier script, as if he were forcing himself to accept reality. If he’s a good person, if he can take care of Laura in my place, I should be happy. I’m about to die. Laura needs a shoulder to lean on. But why does my heart hurt so much?
Daniel, you’re a coward. You say you want her to be happy, but you can’t stand to see her happy with someone else. You’re selfish. You deserve to die.
I broke down, sobbing, my tears soaking the page. Daniel, you fool. So childish, jealous of the whole world, but you didn’t dare to be jealous of your own fate.
You called yourself selfish, but what selfish person would accept watching from the shadows as the one they love is cared for without daring to step out and ruin it all. He broke his water glass that day. Ethan intervened, his voice tinged with sadness and a sigh. He called me to come over. He made me investigate who that guy with the glasses was. He said if he was a good man, he’d let it go, but if he was a womanizer, he’d arrange for someone to teach him a lesson. I looked at him and I didn’t know whether to laugh or get angry. A guy on the verge of death and still worried about protecting the wife he himself had pushed away.
I closed the journal and hugged it to my chest. The jealousy of a dying man might sound ridiculous, but it was the clearest proof of the love that still burned in him. He never let me go, never stopped loving me for a second. He just hid that love, buried it deep in his heart along with his physical pain so that I could move on freely. but he didn’t know that the freedom he granted me was so empty and cold without his warmth.
I kept turning the pages of the journal, but towards the end it became harder to read. Daniel’s writing was no longer firm and neat, but shaky and irregular. In many places the ink had bled, and the pen had pierced the paper. These were signs that his strength was failing, that the hands that had signed multi-million dollar contracts could now barely hold a pen.
Date. It hurts too much today. Feels like my bones are shattering into pieces. I’ve had two shots of morphine, but they do nothing. Painkillers are like water to me now. Ethan told me to check into the hospital so they can monitor me, but I shook my head. What for? The end is already written here. Even though it’s cramped, at least I can see Laura’s window. In the hospital, those four cold white walls would kill me before the cancer does.
I caressed those trembling letters, feeling his helplessness. Morphine, a name foreign to me, but it was his only solace in those days. I remembered my sleepless nights worrying about money, never knowing that just across the street my husband was battling excruciating pain, resorting to powerful painkillers just to get some intermittent sleep.
Date. I had another pain crisis last night. I bit down on the towel so I wouldn’t scream. I was afraid the neighbors would hear me that my desperate screams would cross the street and wake Laura up. I’m a coward. A little pain and I already want to cry. But it really hurts, Ethan. It hurts so much. I want to take a knife and cut my own leg off. But then I think if I were a I’d be so ugly. Laura would be scared to death to see me. Better to just endure.
Ethan sat beside me, his head bowed, his voice choked. There were nights I’d go to see him and find him curled up in a ball on the floor, soaked in sweat. He wouldn’t let me turn on the light. He wanted to be in the dark. He’d tell me,
“Don’t turn it on. I don’t want you to see me cry.”
I’d touch his forehead, and it was ice cold. His whole body would be shaking as if he had malaria. I wanted to take him to the ER, but he refused flatly. He’d cover my mouth with his hand and whisper,
“Don’t make any noise. Laura’s a light sleeper. What if she hears us?”
I listened to Ethan, feeling my heart being squeezed. Daniel, you endured all that for the stupid fear of waking me up. You protected my sleep, my false peace with your own physical torment. You considered me your everything, but you treated yourself like nothing.
Date. What I fear most is delirium. Yesterday, Ethan told me that with the high fever, I kept calling Laura’s name. I’m so scared. scared that in a moment of unconsciousness, I’ll grab the phone and call her, that I’ll start crying and begging her to come back. I’ve already told Ethan. If he sees me losing control, he should tie me down or give me a sedative to put me to sleep. Under no circumstances can I contact Laura. I’ve played the villain this far. I can’t fail at the end. Laura has to hate me. Only then can she live well.
Reading the last line, I could take no more. I buried my head in the journal, sobbing uncontrollably. His cruelty to himself was terrifying. He was afraid his love would hurt me, that his weakness would be a burden. He shackled himself physically and mentally just to maintain the role of the unfaithful husband he had created. I hated him just as he wanted. But now that hatred was turning against me, causing me a pain a thousand times greater than the truth.
Ethan waited for my sobs to quiet down. Then, in silence, he reached under the table where a small safe was hidden by an old rag. He turned the combination. The sound of the lock clicking echoed dryly. He pulled out a waterproof Ziploc bag sealed with duct tape. He held it in his hands for a moment, his gaze thoughtful, as if weighing something very important, before slowly placing it in my hands.
“This is the last thing he left,” Ethan said, his voice grave and solemn. “He gave me very clear instructions. I could only give you this bag in one specific scenario. If you discovered the whole truth and came here, if you went your whole life without ever touching that card, if you continued to live in peace and forgot him, then I was to burn this bag and scatter the ashes to the wind.”
I took the bag, feeling its weight in my hands, though it didn’t seem to contain much. It was the weight of a secret, of a last will buried for seven years.
Trembling, I tore off the duct tape. Inside was a small silver thumb drive and a yellowed white envelope. On the envelope, three words, “For my wife.” The handwriting, shaky but neat, was identical to that of the last pages of the journal.
“He prepared this in the last week before he died,” Ethan said, looking at the bag in my hands. His eyes read. “He was very weak. could barely sit up, but he insisted I help him up, comb his hair, and put on his best shirt. He said he wanted to record a few words for you because he was afraid his handwriting would be illeible or that you would forget his voice.”
I caressed the cold thumb drive. A wave of fear washed over me. I wanted to hear his voice, to see him, but I was also afraid to face his emaciated image. I was afraid I couldn’t bear to see the handsome man I once knew ravaged by disease. But the desire to see him again, even through a screen, overcame the fear.
Ethan, as if reading my thoughts, stood up and went to a corner, pulling out an old laptop. I still have this laptop, the one he used to record the video. I haven’t dared to delete anything or watch it a second time. It’s too much.
He placed the laptop on the table and plugged in the thumb drive. The screen lit up, showing a single folder named Legacy. I held my breath. My trembling finger moved the mouse toward the single video file inside. Ethan gracefully stood up and went out onto the balcony to light a cigarette, leaving me alone with Daniel.
I sat there in front of the inert screen, feeling as if I were before a door connecting life and death. I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. I knew that after this click, my life would be turned upside down again. But I couldn’t run anymore. I needed to hear him to know what he had left for me in his final moments.
My finger clicked, the screen flickered, and then the image appeared. The image on the screen trembled slightly before stabilizing, likely due to Ethan’s unsteady hand holding the camera. The background was the same miserable apartment, but with a bit more light. Daniel was sitting up, propped against the headboard of the bed with several pillows supporting his skeletal back.
When I saw him, I had to cover my mouth to keep from screaming. This was not the handsome, elegant Daniel of seven years ago. The man in the video was consumed. His hollow cheeks accentuated his sharp cheekbones. His thick black hair had been shaved off, revealing a pale scalp. His skin had a waxy salow pour. His eyes were sunken and dark, but they still shone with the same familiar warmth. He was wearing the white shirt I had given him for our third wedding anniversary. It was now huge on him, hanging loosely on his frame of skin and bones. The open collar revealed a sharp clavicle. But what hurt the most was his smile. He was trying to smile for the camera, a forced smile twisted by pain, but filled with love.
“Hey Laura, ex-wife.”
Daniel’s voice coming from the laptop speakers was weak and halting, a far cry from his deep, resonant voice of before.
“By the time you see this video, the grass on my grave will be pretty tall, maybe even up to your knees.”
He paused to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with difficulty under the large shirt. He raised a hand and waved, trying to seem playful.
“How do I look? A little rough around the edges, right? Don’t you dare say I’m ugly. Okay. I told Ethan to put some makeup on me, but the guy has no skills. I don’t know what he put on me, but I look like a clown.”
I broke down, my tears blurring his image on the screen. Daniel, even on the verge of death, you’re trying to make me laugh. You didn’t want me to see you suffer, so you used that bitter humor to hide the raw reality. Didn’t you know that seeing you try to be cheerful hurt me a thousand times more than if I had seen you cry, Laura?
His voice turned serious with no trace of a joke.
“I know you’re crying. Don’t cry. You get so ugly when you cry. Your eyes swell up like a pandas. And who’s going to look at you at work tomorrow? Come on. Stop it. Listen to me.”
He raised his skeletal hand and brought it toward the screen as if he wanted to reach through time and space to wipe away my tears. The gesture was so familiar that I instinctively leaned forward, wanting to rest my head on his hand, but I only touched the cold glass of the screen.
“I’m sorry,” Daniel said, his eyes looking directly at the camera, deep and sad. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone in this world. I promised to protect you for life, to grow old together until our teeth fell out. But I broke my promise. I’m a scoundrel. I’m leaving first. Don’t be mad at me, okay?”
I shook my head at the screen, saying through sobs, “I’m not mad. I’m not mad, Daniel. I’m just mad at how foolish you were. Why did you hide it from me? Why did you endure it all alone?”
In the video, Daniel began to cough violently, his whole body writhing. Ethan off camera tried to step in to help, but Daniel waved him away. He held it in, covered his mouth, and after a long moment of ragged breathing, he was able to continue.
“I don’t have much time. There are some important things I have to explain to you so you don’t have any more doubts. So you don’t hold a grudge against me,” the video continued.
Daniel took a sip of water from a glass Ethan handed him. He winced as he swallowed as if there were thorns in his throat. After a few seconds to compose himself, he looked steadily at the camera, his expression becoming serious and full of remorse.
“The first thing I want to explain is about that day at the courthouse,” Daniel said, his voice trembling. “Remember? It was pouring rain. I saw you drenched, shivering from cold and rage. When I threw the card at you, I felt my hand shaking. I had to hold back to grit my teeth to say those cruel words. I told you it was charity to get lost.”
Daniel looked down, avoiding the camera as if fleeing my accusatory gaze from the future.
“In reality, at that moment, what I wanted most was to run and hug you. I wanted to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, to tell you I loved you more than anything in the world. But I looked at myself. I looked at the medical report in my pocket. I couldn’t. If I hugged you, you’d feel how thin I was. You’d smell the medicine. And most importantly, if I softened at that moment, you would never agree to leave me.”
Daniel smiled sadly.
“I know your character, Laura. You’re very sentimental. If you knew I was dying, you’d sell everything. You’d quit your job to take care of me in the hospital. You’d watch me lose my hair, vomit blood, lose control of my body. It would traumatize you for life. I didn’t want that. I wanted the Daniel in your memory to always be the handsome, arrogant man. Even if he was a bastard, it was better than being a walking corpse.”
I listened to his every word as if I were swallowing hot coals. The raw, painful truth was being revealed through the weak voice of the deceased. He had played the villain perfectly, so well that he had deceived the woman he had shared a bed with for years. He accepted my undying hatred just to give me peace in the future.
“You know,” Daniel continued, his eyes glistening with tears. “When you turned and walked away in the rain, I watched you from the car in the rear view mirror. I felt like my heart was being ripped out. You bent down to pick up the card. I was both happy and hurt. Happy because you took it, which meant you would have a way out, but hurt because I knew that act had deeply wounded your pride. I’m sorry a thousand times. I’m sorry. I used the worst possible way to love you.”
I caressed his face on the screen, a gaunt face that held a love as immense as it was foolish. I wanted to tell him I had forgiven him long ago, ever since Ethan told me the truth, but he could no longer hear me. He was forever stuck in that moment, filled with remorse for having hurt me.
“I made a bet with Ethan,” Daniel said, his voice a little stronger. “I bet you wouldn’t spend the money right away. I trusted my wife’s pride and I knew that pride would help you stand on your own two feet in the tough times ahead. You would work twice as hard, three times as hard to prove me wrong. And that process would forge you. It would turn you from a spoiled, weak little girl into a strong, independent woman. That’s the greatest legacy I wanted to leave you. Not the money on the card.”
I nodded through my tears. He was right. He had won this painful bet. I matured through pain. I was strengthened by hatred. But the price of that maturity was too high. It was paid with his loneliness and his death. He taught me how to live without him, but not how to forget him.
Daniel paused in the video to breathe. His breath was a whistle like wind seeping through a crack. He put a hand to his chest to suppress an imminent pain and then looked at me with determination. He began to talk about what I had always wondered about, the $2 million he had hidden on that old card.
“You’re wondering why I lied about the amount, right?” Daniel smiled, a weak but mischievous smile. “I said there was $10,000 because I wanted to test you. I know my wife has immense pride. If $10,000 already seemed like a small, humiliating amount to you, how would you accept 2 million? If I had told you the real figure from the start, would you have been scared? Would you think I was involved in something illegal? Or would you have returned it immediately so as not to be a gold digger?”
I nodded unconsciously, tears still streaming down my face. He was right, too. 7 years ago, I was a young woman filled with pride. I would have rather starved than accept such a large sum from an unfaithful husband. It was the poulry amount of $10,000 combined with his dismissive attitude that wounded my self-esteem and made me keep the card as proof to motivate myself to fight.
“Those 2 million,” Daniels voice turned serious, “they’re all I had left after selling the company. I knew you wouldn’t use them right away, but I left them there. I wanted them to be your safety net. Life is unpredictable, Laura. No one knows what will happen tomorrow. If you get sick, if something happens to you, or if the man you’re with in the future doesn’t treat you well, this money will give you the option to choose.”
He looked deeply into the camera as if he wanted to burn every word into my mind.
“If you haven’t remarried, use this money to travel the world. Go to New Orleans like we promised. Go to the places you love. Eat the best food. Don’t save it. Life is short. And if you are already married, consider it the dowy I’m giving you. With money in hand, you’ll have standing. Your in-laws won’t dare to look down on you. You won’t have to live seeking anyone’s approval.”
I listened with a broken heart. Even in his last moments, as life was slipping away, he was only thinking about my future. He worried I would be looked down upon, that I wouldn’t have money, that I would suffer from poverty. He had prepared a perfect escape route for me, the greatest security a man can give the woman he loves.
“I know you’ll call me materialistic that you think money is everything,” Daniel smiled bitterly. “But Laura, when you’re facing death, you realize how important money is. It couldn’t buy my life, but it can buy your freedom and your peace of mind. I can’t be by your side to protect you anymore. So, let this money do it for me. Don’t refuse it. Don’t throw away my life’s work for some false pride. Promise me.”
I buried my face in my hands, sobbing inconsolably. I didn’t despise his money. I was hurt that this money was obtained in exchange for his life and his brilliant career. He had sold everything excepted walking away with empty hands just to leave me a fortune and an eternal remorse.
I will keep your money, I thought, but not to enjoy it. I’ll use it to fulfill your unfinished dreams, to live a life worthy of your great sacrifice.
The video was nearing its end. The light in the room seemed dimmer. Or maybe it was my eyes clouded by tears. Daniel looked much more tired. He rested his head against the pillow, his eyelids drooping, but he fought to keep them open, fixed on the camera. His breathing was heavy, his chest rising and falling with difficulty.
“Laura.” He called my name, his voice a whisper. “I know you’re crying. You cry a lot, don’t you? I already told you. Don’t cry. You get so ugly with your red nose and swollen eyes. You have to smile. Smile like the day I proposed to you.”
He tried to move his hand across the screen as if to wipe my tears.
“Come on, be good. When I’m gone, you have to live happily for both of us. You have to dress well. Wear makeup. Go out with your friends. Don’t lock yourself in the past. Don’t get depressed over a dead man. I don’t want to see you sad. I couldn’t rest in peace.”
I shook my head. The tears kept falling. How could I be happy knowing this painful truth? How could I smile when the man who loved me most had gone in solitude and pain?
“You’re selfish, Daniel.” You ask me to forget you, to be happy, but you leave me with such a profound longing.
“Find a good man,” Daniel said, his voice choked. Each word a wound for him and for me. “Find someone healthy who can live to be 100 to take care of you, not a wreck like me. Someone who knows how to cook, who pampers you, who comforts you when you cry. If he makes you suffer, take my money, throw the bills in his face, and leave. Don’t put up with anything. Got it.”
I felt like salt was being poured on my wound. He was giving me instructions to marry someone else. He was pushing me into the arms of a stranger before he drew his last breath. Does such a noble and foolish man exist. He loved me. He was jealous of a stranger, but he was willing to bless my happiness with another just because he knew he could no longer make me happy.
“I’m serious.” Daniel looked at me, his eyes so sincere it hurt. “I’m not jealous. Well, maybe a little, just a little. But I’d rather see you happy with someone else than for you to be alone your whole life. You deserve to be loved. Laura, you’re the best woman in the world. I just wasn’t lucky enough to walk with you to the end of the road.”
I buried my head on the table, sobs, choking me. Daniel, please stop. There is no one better than you. No one who would love me with their life like you did. You set the bar for love so high that all other men seem insignificant. You tell me to find happiness, but my happiness left with you to that cold grave.
The laptop screen began to flicker. The battery on Ethan’s camera must have been dying, just like Daniel’s life. His image was intermittent, but his voice continued, weak yet longing. He looked at the camera one last time, his eyes holding a universe of love and longing, as if he wanted to burn my image into his soul to take with him to the next world.
“If there’s a next life,” Daniel said, his voice breaking. “I promise you. I promise I’ll exercise every day. I’ll eat healthy. I won’t smoke. I won’t work late. I’ll have a strong, healthy body.”
He paused to take a breath, pain contorting his face, but he still tried to smile.
“I’ll live a long time until I’m 99 to be a grumpy old man next to my grumpy old Laura. In the next life, I won’t fight you. I won’t lie and say I don’t love you anymore. I won’t play the traitor. I won’t get a divorce. We’ll argue. We’ll get mad. But we’ll never let go of each other’s hand. Okay.”
I nodded frantically at the screen as if he could see me. Okay, Daniel. Yes. A thousand times. Yes. We got it wrong in this life. We owe each other too many tears and misunderstandings. If there is a next life, I will find you. I will make you keep your promise. I won’t let you push me away. No matter what, I’ll hold on to you.
“I’m tired.” Daniel sighed, his eyelids heavy. “I need to sleep for a bit. Ethan is already scolding me. Goodbye, Laura. Remember to live well. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world.”
The image blurred and then went black. The video ended. The room fell into a terrifying silence, broken only by my sobs and the worring of the laptop’s fan. I stared at the black screen, a feeling of emptiness washing over me. He was really gone. His final goodbye, his promise for the next life had been delivered, leaving me alone in this vast world.
I hugged the laptop, resting my face on the still warm screen as if searching for one last trace of his heat. Daniel, I heard you. I promise I will live well. But you have to keep your promise, too. In the next life, you have to find me. You can’t abandon me again.
That promise of another life seemed distant and vague, but it was the only hope I could cling to. I believed that death was not the end, just a temporary separation. Somewhere in another time and space, he was waiting for me, healthy and smiling, ready to take my hand and continue our journey.
I closed the laptop and put it back in its place. The atmosphere in the apartment felt colder after Daniel’s voice faded. Ethan was still on the balcony, his cigarette had long since burned out, the ash falling to the floor. He came in, looked at my swollen eyes, sighed, and sat on the plastic chair. It was time to hear the end of this tragic story. The part I feared most but needed to know.
“That night,” Ethan began, his voice low, like an echo from beyond the grave. “It was pouring rain, just like the day you went to the courthouse. Thunder and lightning. The wind howled at the windows like a lament. Daniel was very weak. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, just delirious.”
I held my breath, my heart clenching. I remembered that stormy night. I was curled up in my bed, listening to the rain, feeling empty. I didn’t know that not far away, my ex-husband was drawing his last breaths.
“Just before dawn, he suddenly woke up, ‘Lucid,’” Ethan continued, his gaze distant. “He asked me to help him sit up. He looked out the window toward your apartment. ‘The light in your room was already off. You were probably asleep.’ He stared as if to burn that image into his memory one last time. Then he turned to me and said, ‘Ethan, I’m so cold. I want to go home, but my home isn’t mine anymore.’”
That sentence was a stab to my heart. His house, our home, he had sold it to give me the money. He wanted to go home, but he had nowhere to go. He died in a temporary, cold, and strange rented room with no family other than his best friend.
“He started to get delirious.” Ethan’s voice broke. “He kept saying your name over and over. Laura, it hurts. Laura, don’t leave me. He waved his hands in the air as if searching for someone’s hand. I took his hand. It was ice cold and skeletal. I told him, ‘I’m here. Ethan is here. Hold on.’ But he couldn’t hear me. He just kept saying your name.”
I covered my mouth to keep from wailing. He called for me as he was dying. He needed me. He wanted me by his side. And where was I? Sleeping peacefully or dreaming of a bright future without him. My indifference was the life sentence I would have to carry for the rest of my days.
“And then he was gone,” Ethan said, his voice barely a whisper. “He passed at dawn just as the rain stopped. He went peacefully like a candle burning out. His eyes were still open, looking toward the window, toward your home. I had to close them several times. He asked for a simple funeral, to be cremated, and his ashes left at a temple without any big ceremony without notifying anyone, especially you. He was afraid that if you found out, you would come and see his ravaged body.”
I listened, feeling my soul leave my body. He died alone, consumed by longing and worry for the one he left behind. He didn’t allow anyone to mourn him, to give him a proper funeral. He disappeared from this world in silence, as if he had never existed, just to protect my peace. His death was the saddest, most silent note in the tragic symphony of our life.
I insisted on seeing Daniel’s grave immediately, despite Ethan trying to dissuade me, saying it was already getting dark and that I wasn’t well after such a shock. I couldn’t wait another minute. I wanted to see him, to touch the place where he rested, even if it was just a cold grave.
Ethan drove his old car out of the noisy city toward the desolate outskirts. The landscape changed rapidly from skyscrapers to barren fields covered in weeds. The gray evening sky was heavy with dark clouds. The car stopped at the foot of a barren hill. The wind howled. It was the municipal cemetery for the poor, the homeless, the families without the means to buy a plot in a private cemetery.
Ethan led me up a bumpy dirt path. The weeds came up to my knees, scratching my legs, but I felt nothing. The pain in my heart had numbed my other senses. We stopped in a remote corner of the hillside. Before me was a tiny grave, almost lost among the others with no mausoleum, no polished marble, just a mound of dirt surrounded by bricks covered in weeds and dry leaves. The cheap headstone was covered in moss.
But I instantly recognized that familiar smile. In the black and white photo, Daniel was smiling. That arrogant, care-free smile I had once hated now tore my heart apart. Why? I knelt before the grave, my trembling hands caressing the cold photo. Why are you here? You had $2 million. Why did you let yourself be buried in this desolate place?
Ethan, behind me, spoke in a low voice that blended with the wind.
“It was his wish. He said that all the money from the sale of the company was for you down to the last scent. He said, ‘When I’m dead, it doesn’t matter where I am. A corpse is just a corpse. Why waste money on a nice spot? Let my wife use that money to live well, to live happily.’ He also chose this spot because it’s high up. From here, you can see the city lights where you live.”
I listened and my tears fell like rain soaking the dry earth. Daniel, you were stingy to the extreme with yourself, even in your own death, just to be generous with me. You accepted this cramped, cold place, enduring the sun, the rain, and the wind just so I could live in a big, comfortable house. Your sacrifice didn’t end in life. It continued even after your death.
I frantically pulled the weeds from his grave, my hands getting scratched and bloody. I wanted to clean it to make it up to him even just a little. I took the powerful black card from my bag and placed it on his headstone. Daniel, I brought you your money. Here’s the 2 million. Get up. Buy yourself a mansion. A luxury car. Get well. I don’t want it. I’m giving it all back to you.
I screamed until my voice broke in the wind, but I was only answered by the deathly silence of the cemetery at dusk. There were no miracles. The card remained motionless on the cold stone. The figure of $2 million became absurdly insignificant. What good is so much money if the person who needed it most is gone? What good is it if it can’t buy a single breath from the person you love?
I rested my head on the headstone, feeling the piercing cold on my skin, as if he were holding me one last time with the icy arms of death.
The next morning, I took the first bus to Daniel’s hometown. The old clapboard house at the foot of a gnarled oak tree was just as I remembered it from 7 years ago. The rusty iron gate was a jar, the brick patio covered in quiet moss. I walked in, my heart pounding, guilt weighing on my shoulders. For 7 years, because of my hatred for Daniel, I had also cut off contact with his parents. I thought they were like him, cruel and self-s serving, that they had condoned him, leaving me for a rich woman.
“Who is it?” An old trembling voice came from inside the house. Daniel’s mother came out, leaning on a cane. Her hair was completely white, her back stooped. When she saw me, she froze. The cane fell to the ground with a clatter, her clouded eyes widened and filled with tears.
“Laura, is that you, child?”
She walked clumsily toward me, nearly tripping. I ran to support her. Mom, it’s me. I came to see you.
Daniel’s father came out, too. He had aged so much, his face a road map of time and sorrow. They both hugged me, crying like children. The sound of old people weeping was heart-wrenching.
We went inside. On the mantlepiece, Daniel’s photo took center stage. The smoke from an incense stick curled upward.
“Dad, Mom, how long have you known Daniel was gone?” I asked, a lump in my throat, not daring to look at his picture.
Daniel’s father wiped his tears with the sleeve of his shirt.
“Since he got sick, child, he came here, knelt down, and begged our forgiveness. said he was a bad son, that he was leaving before he could ever repay us. He gave us a bank book with $100,000 in it. Said it was from the sale of the company for our old age.”
“Then why didn’t you call me?” I reproached them, but my voice was weak. “Why did you hide it from me for 7 years? I was his wife, your daughter-in-law.”
Daniels mother took my hand, a callous but warm hand. She sobbed.
“It was Daniel. He forbade us. He made us swear on the ancestors altar that we wouldn’t tell you anything. He said if you knew you would suffer that you wouldn’t be able to rebuild your life. He said it was better for you to hate him even to hate this whole family as long as you could live well. We loved you so much, child. So many times we wanted to call you, but when we remembered his last wish, we didn’t dare.”
I looked at those two white-haired heads, my heartbreaking. Not only had Daniel sacrificed himself, but his parents had also endured this terrible pain in silence. They lost their son and couldn’t mourn with anyone. And on top of that, they had to bear the reputation of being a cruel family to their daughter-in-law. They swallowed their tears, accepted my misunderstanding, my distance, just to fulfill their son’s last wish. he said.
Daniel’s father looked at the mantelpiece that he was most in debt to you. That if he couldn’t take care of you, we couldn’t bother you either. We’re old now. We’ll take this pain to our graves. But you’re young. You have your whole life ahead of you. You can’t live tormented by the shadow of a dead man.
I buried my head in my mother-in-law’s lap, crying like never before. The generosity of this family was immense, so much so that it made me feel small and selfish. I had lived in a blind hatred while they protected me from afar with the greatest love. Daniel, what kind of family were you born into to be so noble it hurts?
Back in the city, I held the powerful black card, feeling it weigh as much as a mountain. I returned to my small rented room, the one that had been with me through my hardest years. The room was the same damp walls, the old fan creaking. But I was different. I was no longer the poor girl who worried about every meal, every dollar of rent. Now I was a millionaire, but strangely I felt no joy or relief, only a terrifying emptiness.
I sat on the bed looking at the card on the table. $2 million. It could buy me a luxury mansion, a sports car, designer clothes, but it couldn’t buy back a family dinner with Daniel’s laughter or his warm hug on cold winter nights.
I remembered his words in the video. He bet that I wouldn’t spend the money right away. He wanted me to fight for myself, to mature. He was right, and it was cruel. The hatred he planted in me was the strongest stimulant for survival. If I had known about his illness 7 years ago, I probably would have collapsed. But out of hatred, to prove to him that I could live well without him, I gritted my teeth and worked, overcoming every difficulty. That hatred fueled me, forged me into the strong woman I am today.
But now that the truth was out, the hatred vanished, and I felt like a puppet without strings. My goal for seven years was to get revenge on him with my success. Now that goal was pointless. He was dead. He couldn’t see my success. Or rather, he had seen it all and was smiling with satisfaction from his grave.
I picked up my phone. The screen was dark. No messages from debt collectors, no calls from the landlord. The financial pressure had vanished in an instant, but it was replaced by the pressure of loneliness. This sudden wealth didn’t bring me the freedom I expected, but a golden cage that locked me in his memory. Every dollar I spent from now on would be soaked in his sweat and blood. How could I enjoy it?
I got up and went to the window, looking across the street at the apartment Daniel had rented. The window was closed, dark. The silent observer was no longer there. From now on, I would have to live my own life with no eyes watching over me, no secret protection. I had to face this harsh reality. I was rich, but I was utterly alone.
I began to pack my things, the old clothes, the cheap items that had been with me for so many years. I put them in boxes. I would leave this place not to run from the past, but to start a new journey, the journey Daniel had paved with his life. I would not waste his effort. I would live a bright, strong life, as he had hoped, even if my heart had a broken piece that could never be filled.
The rumor that I suddenly had $2 million spread like wildfire. Perhaps through the gossipy bank teller or the curious neighbors who saw me get into a luxury car. Overnight, my life turned upside down in a way I hadn’t expected, but one that was brutally realistic.
First thing in the morning, my phone started ringing off the hook. Unknown numbers, names that had vanished from my life a decade ago. A distant cousin, Jessica, who seven years ago, when I asked to borrow $200 for my mother’s medicine, had thrown me out like a dog, now called to ask about my health with the tenderness of a mother. She whined about her difficult situation and ended by asking to borrow $50,000 to start a business.
Then my best friends from college, the ones who had laughed at me when I was working washing dishes, were now texting to meet up, to reminisce about old times. They praised me, saying I was so smart and low-key. Someone even had the audacity to show up at my apartment with an investment proposal for a pyramid scheme.
I sat with them on the patio of a neighborhood bar, still in my simple clothes, watching their eager faces, their eyes shining as they talked about money. I felt disgusted. This society was ruthlessly materialistic. When you’re poor, you’re an outcast. But when you have money, you suddenly become everyone’s most beloved relative.
I remembered Daniel. He gave me everything without asking for anything in return. The contrast between my late husband’s true love and the phoniness of these people made me appreciate him even more. Daniel had taught me the lesson of dignity and poverty. And now indirectly, he was teaching me the lesson of clarity and wealth. I would not let his blood- earned money fall into the hands of those who didn’t deserve it. I would protect it as if it were his very soul.
My cousin Jessica was now clutching my hand tightly, sobbing loudly about her son’s gambling debts. She wailed, drawing the attention of nearby tables, as if trying to use social pressure to break me. But she didn’t know that my heart, forged in the fire of a false betrayal and a real death, was harder than steel.
“Laura, you have $2 million. Just lend me a h 100,000. It’s nothing to you, but it’s my son’s life. Are you going to let the lone sharks break his legs?” she cried.
I pulled my hand from hers, which was sweaty and sticky, and took a sip of iced tea. The bitter taste cleared my mind. I looked her directly in the eyes with a coldness that made her shiver. Her sobs died in her throat.
“Cousin Jessica,” I said calmly, but with a frigid voice. “You say $100,000 is nothing? Do you know what I paid for that? Nothing. I paid for it with my husband’s bone marrow. With his blood? With his agonizing pain? Daniel sold his life for this money. Do you think I’m going to use my husband’s blood to pay off your son’s gambling debts?”
Jessica’s jaw dropped. Her face went from red to pale white. She stammered, “But but the dead are dead. You’re alive. You have to worry about the living. As rich as you are, what’s a little help? You’re so stingy. No wonder your husband left you.”
Before she could finish, I slammed my glass on the table.
“Shut up,” I snarled, each word hissing between my teeth. “You have no right to mention my husband. You will not get a single scent of my money. I would rather burn it and let it reach Daniel in the afterlife than feed opportunists and ungrateful leeches. Get out of my sight, and don’t ever come looking for me again.”
I turned and walked away, leaving her speechless. I knew that from this day on I would have a reputation for being rich and stingy, but I didn’t care. I had learned Daniel’s greatest lesson. Kindness must be given to those who deserve it. Otherwise, it’s just stupidity.
That same afternoon, I went to one of the most prestigious law firms in the city. I’m no business expert, but I know how to protect money. I hired a lawyer to draft a will and create a trust. I was afraid. Afraid of having a fate as short as Daniels. afraid that if I died suddenly, this blood- earned money would be devoured by vultures.
The lawyer looked at me with surprise.
“Mrs. Laura, to whom do you wish to leave your entire estate should something happen?”
I looked out the window. The image of Daniel’s elderly, grieving parents appeared in my mind.
“Half will go to my in-laws for their old age,” I replied firmly. “The other half use it to help cancer patients without resources. people like my husband who don’t have money to buy painkillers.”
Leaving the law firm, I felt light. I had secured Daniel’s treasure, turning it into an impregnable fortress. I wasn’t just protecting the money. I was protecting his honor and his love.
That night, it rained again. I curled up in bed, listening to the rhythmic tapping on the roof. A heart-wrenching nostalgia washed over me. How long had it been since I heard Daniel’s laugh? How long since I felt the warmth of his hand?
I fell asleep to the sound of the rain. And then he came.
In my dream, I was standing in front of the courthouse again. It was pouring. In the distance, Daniel leaned against his car in his black trench coat, but this time he wasn’t looking at me with contempt. His deep eyes were filled with love and regret. He dropped his cigarette, crushed it under his heel, and walked quickly toward me. He didn’t toss the card at me. Instead, he opened his arms and held me tight.
“Daniel,” I sobbed his name, feeling his familiar warmth, his scent of tobacco and mint that I had missed so much. “Where have you been? Why did you leave me for so long? I’ve missed you so much.”
He held me tighter, stroking my hair.
“I’m sorry. I haven’t gone anywhere. I’ve always been here, right by your side, Laura. You’ve suffered so much. You did so well. Better than I ever expected.”
I looked at him. His face was no longer gaunt. He was the Daniel from before, handsome and full of life. He wiped my tears and smiled.
“Don’t cry anymore. Nothing hurts anymore. I’m strong now. I could carry you on my back all over New York City without getting tired.”
“Liar.” I punched him softly on the chest, laughing and crying. “You’re a liar. You said you’d live to be 99. Give me my husband back.”
He took my hand and placed it over his heart. I felt its beat, strong and steady.
“I can’t give you back my body. But this heart, this love will always be yours. Laura, live happily. Don’t hold on to sadness. Only if you smile can I rest in peace.”
Slowly, he let me go. His figure faded into the rain. I ran after him, trying to hold on, but I only grasped at air.
“Daniel, don’t go. Don’t leave me alone. I’ll be waiting for you.”
His voice came from the distance, light as the wind.
“At the end of the road, I’ll be waiting. Live well, my love.”
I woke with a jolt, soaked in sweat and tears. The room was dark. Only the sound of the rain remained. I sat up and touched my chest where Daniel had touched me in the dream. The warmth seemed to still be there. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was healing.
Daniel had come back to say goodbye, to comfort my broken soul. He was no longer in pain. He was free. The dream was like a cleansing rain for my parched soul. I dried my tears and smiled in the darkness. He was still here in my heart, and he was waiting for me. I was no longer alone.
After that dream, it was as if I was reborn. I started doing what Daniel wanted, what he had earned for me with his life. First, I went to the bank. I requested to move the 2 million into long-term deposits and government bonds, leaving only a small portion for expenses.
“I don’t want to be richer,” I told the manager. “This money is my husband’s sweat and blood. I don’t want to gamble with it. I just want security.”
I went back to Daniel’s hometown. This time, I asked my in-laws for permission to renovate the family home.
“Mom,” I told my mother-in-law, “this is the money Daniel is giving you. If he can’t take care of you, I will in his place. Don’t refuse it or he won’t rest in peace.”
I stayed for a week cooking, cleaning, and talking with them. I told them about their son’s immense love. Those stories eased their pain and healed my wounds. I understood that the best revenge against pain is not hatred, but living happily. Daniel had sacrificed himself so that I could be happy. So, I had no right to be miserable. I had to live intensely to enjoy every second for both of us.
With a portion of the monthly interest, I made anonymous donations to the Cancer Patient Assistance Foundation at the hospital where Daniel was treated. I believed that from somewhere, he could see it and would be proud.
A year later, Carmemell by the Sea greeted me with a fine mist rolling in from the Pacific. I was sitting in a small cafe overlooking the ocean, just as Daniel had promised for our never realized honeymoon. In front of me was a glass of red wine and an empty chair.
“I’m here, Daniel,” I whispered, raising my glass to the empty seat. “Camel is beautiful, just like you said. The coffee is delicious, and the wine is bitter at first, but sweet at the end, just like our life.”
I took a sip, watching the couple stroll by. I felt no envy, no pity. I felt that Daniel was there, right beside me. I never remarried or sought a new love. The love I experienced was so profound that any other feeling seemed bland in comparison.
I took out the black card and placed it on the table, smiling.
“See, I’m spending your money. I’m staying in a five-star hotel, eating at Michelinstarred restaurants. I’m buying designer handbags. I’m being very bad. Does it hurt you? If so, show up and scold me.”
The ocean breeze rustled my hair. I thought I heard his deep, affectionate laugh in the wind.
“Spend it, honey. I earned the money so you could spend it. As long as you’re happy.”
I put the card away and stood up. I would continue my journey. After Carmel, New Orleans, and then a drive up the Pacific Coast Highway. All the places he had written in his journal that he wanted to visit with me.
I would travel for his tired legs. I would see the world for his closed eyes. I would live a life that was free, without ties or regrets.
I walked out of the cafe and into the crowd. The caramel sky, clear after the mist, was a brilliant blue. A vibrant rainbow arched across the sky over the bay. I lifted my head and took a deep breath of the fresh, free air.
Here I come, Daniel. Our journey is still long. I walked with a light, steady step.
