My Name Is on Her Cancer Diagnosis

An idea occurred to me. I let go of Leonard's collar and pretended to be weak.

"Please don't be angry, honey. I'm just too upset knowing that I have cancer. Once someone contracts this illness, they won't have long to live. I'm only in my 20s and haven't borne you a child yet, honey, so I still can't bear to die," I said distressedly.

Leonard sat far away, visibly afraid, but the key points of my story had still gotten through to him.

"How much longer can you live?" he asked.

I replied in a choked voice, "Two… Two months at most."

Leonard and Cynthia could hardly hide the joy in their eyes upon hearing this. They forgot all about their fear of having the stuffing beaten out of them by me just now, their minds filled with the desire for money.

"It's alright, honey. I don't blame you for it. Don't be sad! You'll get better as long as you're in a good mental state! You'll surely live for years to come!"

Years to come? He and Cynthia probably couldn't wait for me to drop dead days from now.

I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to Leonard and instead turned to look at Amanda. "Why are you cooking today, Amanda? And you made so much delicious food too."

In response, Amanda took my hand in hers and feigned wiping away tears.

She lamented with a sigh, "Well, I just saw you working so hard, and… How could a great young woman like you just… How could…"

She trailed off with another sigh.

Cynthia interjected, "Alright, Mom. That's enough. The food's getting cold. You can't possibly let Victoria eat cold food before her death, right?"

She then sat down eagerly at the table and stuffed a huge piece of fried chicken into her mouth.

Well, well. She wasn't even considering an outcome where I'd be alive, was she?

I suppressed a smile and lowered my voice. "That's right. Let's dig in first and not talk about unhappy things for now, Amanda."

Forget Cynthia, because even I was finding it hard to restrain myself.

Chili con carne, black pepper chicken chop, spicy grilled chicken kebab, rindswurst, spicy smoked beef brisket, spicy shredded beef…

There were simply too many delicious dishes on the table to count, but there was nothing among them that wasn't either spicy or greasy.

Of course, such a spread was also basically an express ticket to hell for patients with cervical cancer.

However, I could tell these were all ordered via takeout at a glance.

Ever since I married into the Ziegler family, Amanda had never once set foot inside the kitchen.

It looked like Amanda had not only done her due research despite her presbyopia but also invested a lot of money into hastening my death.

Although Cynthia was only 18 years old, she weighed a full 200 pounds. She had a very good appetite and especially favored greasy, spicy food. She ate roughly 10 pounds' worth of spicy pulled pork in record time.

She ate faster than I could put more meat on her plate.

In the past, I did my absolute best to control her food intake and customize diet plans for her.

I didn't expect her to end up hating me for it instead. She would complain about me to Leonard for every little thing.

As she chewed her food, she would shake her head like a dog shaking a chew toy.

Seeing that Cynthia was about to gobble up the entire spicy spread she'd specially prepared for me, Amanda finally couldn't hold herself back from speaking up.

"Control yourself, Cynthia Ziegler! That's the spicy pulled pork I made for your sister-in-law!"

Leonard nudged Cynthia with his elbow as well.

It was only then that Cynthia seemed to come back to her senses and smile wolfishly.

"Yes, that's right! Eat up, Victoria! The dishes Mom made are delicious!" she exclaimed before she'd even finished swallowing her mouthful of pulled pork.

I pretended to take a bite of chicken chop before spooning another large piece of meat onto her plate. "It's alright. You're still growing, Cinny, so it's only right that you eat more."

I then addressed Amanda. "The food you made is delicious, Mrs. Ziegler. Cinny loves it, and so do I. Alas, how could I be so unlucky as to get to taste your cooking only after I'm about to die?"

My eyes were red with unshed tears, my acting skills on full display.

Amanda actually forced out a few tears and said in a choked voice, "Don't worry, Vicky. I'll definitely cook you a few more delicious meals before you die."

I didn't know whether my acting had actually moved her or if it was just because it had occurred to her that I was soon going to die.

Now that I'd manipulated the atmosphere to my liking, I went into Amanda's room and brought out the imported wine she'd been hoarding for years.