Terminal Illness Revelry: Her Last Dinner

Not long after I left the ward, I returned with the divorce agreement.

Since all pretenses had been dropped, there was no point in dragging it out. It was better to end everything at once.

I tossed the agreement onto the messy bedside table.

“Sign it. The house and the car were already sold to pay for your treatment. All that remains are these debt lists.”

Rosalie sat in Ethan’s arms, feeding him grapes with her mouth. She looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

“Leo, have you gone crazy?”

She waved her hand, scattering the papers across the floor.

“You sold the house and the car on your own. What does that have to do with me? You are penniless now, and you still want to talk about dividing assets? What assets do you even have?”

She pointed at the pile of IOUs.

“These debts add up to more than three million. Your signature is on them, so you can figure out how to pay them back. Do not try to push them onto me. I just woke up and need money for recovery. I will not take on a single penny of debt.”

Ethan adjusted his glasses and spoke in a cold, business‑like tone.

“Mr. Leighton, have a conscience. Rosie may be awake, yet her long‑term rehabilitation is expensive. Since you have no money, do not hold her back from pursuing a better life. You should bear this debt yourself.”

I looked at the two people who would strip someone to the bone without hesitation, and disgust rose in my chest.

Most of the debt came from the high‑interest loan I took to buy the unapproved miracle drug Ethan recommended.

It turned out they only saw me as a fool who would pay the bill.

Rosalie mistook my silence for resentment. She suddenly exposed my weaknesses to please Ethan.

“Leo, I know what you are upset about. You have been holding a grudge because I never let you touch me during our five years of marriage, right?”

She linked her arm through Ethan’s and rubbed her head against his shoulder with pride.

“I lied about not feeling well because I wanted to be a car model. I could not risk any marks on my body. You are big and strong, and you are also rough. I was afraid you would leave bruises on me and ruin my appearance on camera.”

She glanced at me with open disdain, her voice dripping with contempt.

“I am even embarrassed to mention your size. You are nothing like Dr. Joeman, who is gentle and skillful.”

I let out a short laugh and looked at her exposed thighs. They were covered in the dark pinch marks Ethan had left earlier.

“You think I am too rough and would leave bruises?” I pointed at her legs.

“Then what are those? Rotten grape skins?”

Rosalie followed my gaze without any shame. She even touched the marks with pride, her eyes dreamy.

“What do you know? This is proof of Dr. Joeman’s love for me. A blockhead like you will never understand this kind of excitement.”

I almost laughed at her foolish expression.

I had always been careful with her because of her fragile health. I held back out of concern, yet she mistook restraint for weakness and tenderness for roughness.

Ethan’s harmful behavior had become, in her mind, gentleness and a badge of honor.

“Fine.” I nodded, picked up the agreement from the floor, and signed my name without emotion.

“I will pay, while he gets the girl. Since you like badges so much, I hope you are covered in them from now on.”

I tossed the pen aside and turned to leave.

Behind me, Rosalie’s triumphant voice rang out. “Idiot. We finally got rid of that peasant. Dr. Joeman, let us celebrate…”

I retorted inwardly, 'Idiot, party hard.'