Let Me Die. Why Are You Crying Now?

Let me die, as you wished. So why are you crying now?

Ethan hated me more than anyone else in his life.

He said I was vicious, that I schemed and plotted, stealing everything from Wendy and destroying the love of his life.

Ethan shielded Wendy firmly behind him, pointing his finger at my nose:

"Jenny, why don't you just die?!"

I froze in place.

When he was seven, he said he'd marry me when I grew up.

But now, he just wanted me dead.

Chapter 1

I stood there watching them, my voice cold:

"Just now, Wendy deliberately bumped into me and dug her sharp nails hard into my waist. She threw herself to the ground on purpose, scraping a bit of skin off her knee."

Yes, I never touched her at all.

But Wendy Brown clutched his sleeve, tears streaming down her face.

Ethan Harris only saw Wendy's tears. He couldn't see the bruises her nails left on my waist.

He had no way of knowing about the twisting, suffocating pain in my stomach.

Wendy sobbed: "I didn't..."

Ethan chose to believe her without hesitation.

He sneered at me and carefully helped Wendy up.

"Don't be afraid, Wendy. I'm here."

"Jenny, stop playing these games. Touch her one more time, and I'll make the Davis family go completely bankrupt. I'll kick your parents out of Emerald City and ruin them completely."

Wendy shrank into his arms, pretending to be understanding as she tugged at his arm:

"Ethan, don't blame Jenny. She didn't mean it. I was just walking too fast."

The sharp pain in my stomach suddenly intensified, like countless knives twisting inside me.

The doctor said I had late-stage stomach cancer. Each wave of pain brought me one step closer to death.

Yes, I was dying soon. Why bother arguing with him about any of this?

I didn't try to explain anymore.

Ethan, I'm dying soon. Maybe at my funeral, you'll shed a few tears?

When I got home, it was already past midnight.

Ethan had been back for a while.

He sat right in the middle of the couch, legs crossed.

"Where were you?"

I said quietly, "I couldn't get a cab."

"Couldn't get a cab?"

Ethan let out a cold laugh and crushed his cigarette into the crystal ashtray with force.

His tone was full of contempt and disgust.

"So you were out hooking up with someone?"

"Jenny, you make me sick. You're disgusting."

I opened my mouth to explain, but in the end said nothing.

Even if I did, he wouldn't believe me.

In his mind, I was already the worst kind of person.

I turned to go back to my room.

"Stop."

Ethan's voice cut through the air.

He picked up a document from the coffee table and threw it at my feet.

"Sign it."

I looked down. It was a share transfer agreement.

It clearly stated that I had to transfer all of the Davis family's assets, shares, and properties to Wendy for free.

Every clause was pushing me toward a dead end.

"Why?"

My voice trembled uncontrollably.

The pain in my stomach and the ache in my chest twisted together, gripping my organs so hard I almost passed out.

Why couldn't he even wait until I was dead to deal with all this?

Ethan looked up at me with eyes that held no warmth, only bone-deep hatred.

That hatred was so thick it felt like poison ivy wrapping around me, suffocating me:

"Because you owe Wendy."

"If you hadn't framed her for stealing the Davis family heirloom necklace back then, she wouldn't have been kicked out of the Davis family."

"She wouldn't have spent years on the street, barely getting by. She wouldn't have had to grow up watching people's moods just to survive. Giving her the shares now is what you deserve. It's a debt you need to pay!"

I suddenly laughed.

"Pay a debt?"

I looked at him, word by word, my heart dead.

Each word drained all my strength.

"Ethan, have you ever, even once, stopped to think?"

"I was the one who got framed back then. Wendy stole my necklace and hid it under my pillow."

"She played the victim in front of you. She deliberately destroyed me, pushed me into the abyss, and kept all your favor for herself..."

"Enough!"

Ethan cut me off sharply, stepping right up to me in one stride.

He moved so fast I couldn't react. His hand gripped my chin hard, with enough force to crush my bones.

Fury blazed in Ethan's eyes:

"Jenny, you still dare to make excuses?"

"I saw with my own eyes that you hid Wendy's necklace under your pillow. You still want to lie to me?"

"You're so vicious, you can't even tell the truth!"

His fingers pressed harder. My chin throbbed with pain.

The tears streamed down my face, and the pain in my stomach suddenly exploded, like countless knives twisting inside me.

I bent over, curling up on the floor.

But Ethan showed no sympathy. Instead, he lifted his foot and kicked my shoulder—not hard, but with complete contempt.

I fell onto the carpet, my arm hitting the corner of the coffee table, instantly bruising:

"Don't play dead in front of me. Sign it. Don't make me take action and make your parents suffer with you."

I looked at his cold face, at the undisguised disgust in his eyes.

I gritted my teeth, enduring the sharp pain in my stomach, and signed my name at the bottom of the agreement.

Just a few characters, but they came out crooked, draining all my love and hope.

I threw the pen onto the table. The sharp sound echoed in the silent living room.

"Ethan, what I owed you, I've paid back."

I looked at him.

"From now on, we're even."

Ethan stared at my hand that had just signed, a flicker of panic crossing his eyes.

That panic was so quick it seemed like an illusion, but it was instantly covered by overwhelming hatred.

He clenched his fists, knuckles cracking, and grabbed my hair.

"Even? Jenny, dream on."

"What you owe Wendy, you'll never finish paying back in your lifetime. I'm going to keep you by my side, make you atone forever, live in pain forever, and never let you escape."

With that, he turned and slammed the door behind him.

I was left alone in the living room, curled up on the floor, rolling around from the stomach pain.

I just lay there, from the middle of the night until dawn.