A Heart Broken by Time

My parents died in an accident when I was 16 years old. That leaves me and my stepbrother, Freddie Sanford, to rely on each other.

At 20 years old, I get drunk and confess my feelings to him. But instead of being gentle as usual, he lashes out in fury. "Rosalie Hunter, do you have no shame at all? I'm your brother!"

From that day on, he gets back together with his first love, Bianca Reed. His attitude toward me plummets and turns cold as ice.

What Freddie doesn't know is I'm sick. To me, every day feels like a countdown.

On the day of their wedding, I quietly reach the end of my life.

When I open my eyes again, I've returned to two years ago.

At the same time, I learn an unbelievable piece of news.

Freddie has been dead for three years.

It had just started pouring when I came out of the hospital after my follow-up.

Standing at the entrance, I stared at the word "terminal stage" printed on the diagnosis slip. Strangely, I felt relieved.

Both tests came back with the same result. I had no choice but to accept it.

At this moment, I felt extremely calm as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I decided not to think about it and called Freddie Sanford.

I'd been keeping this from him, but I figured it was time to come clean.

The call barely rang once before a robotic voice informed me he was on another call.

My heart sank. I knew he had declined it on purpose.

Freddie had grown sick of me ever since I confessed to him when I was drunk.

To him, I'd gone from his obedient sister to a shameless woman trying to seduce her own brother. But in fact, we weren't even related by blood.

I didn't give up. I called again and again, until he finally picked up.

"What is it?" His voice was frighteningly cold.

My heart sank even further. Clenching the diagnosis slip, I found myself at a loss for words.

"What exactly do you want?" he snapped.

Freddie's patience was wearing thin. I could practically picture him frowning on the other end of the line.

He never used to be like this.

I pressed my lips and looked out at the curtain of rain. "Fred, can you come pick me up from the hospital? I need to talk to you."

As soon as I said that, he lashed out furiously. "Rosalie Hunter, are you seriously faking an illness right now? Is this fun for you?"

Freddie ended the call before I could even respond.

I stood frozen, unable to make sense of his sudden outburst. But the next moment, a message from his girlfriend, Bianca Reed, popped up. Everything became clear.

"Are you trying to ruin our date? Who do you think you are?"

It was just two simple sentences, but the mockery in them cut deep.

I didn't reply. Instead, I tapped into Bianca's profile almost on instinct.

One glance was all it took for a chill to sweep over me. I stood frozen on the spot.

Freddie had proposed to her.

The photo grid was filled with all sorts of jewelry and luxury goods, with a huge diamond ring particularly standing out.

My eyes locked on the photos of them kissing and their group shots with friends. I stared blankly before crouching down and covering my mouth.

I was unable to hold back my sobs. They were getting married, and I was the last to know.

Freddie hadn't breathed a word to me. Was he afraid I'd show up and ruin the proposal? His outburst earlier was because he thought I was making a scene.

So that was how low he thought of me.

The diagnosis slip was all crumpled in my hand. I recalled what the doctor had said. "Ms. Hunter, given your current condition, you likely have less than a month left. I suggest informing your family soon so they can start making arrangements."