On the third day, I went to the supermarket to buy some things.

When I came out, Luke was standing at the entrance, holding a bag of medicine.

Luke lowered the medicine bag, but I had already seen it.

The doctor's advice label on the medicine box read: Take before meals, continue for three months.

Luke had clearly said the recovery period was only a week.

But I didn't ask.

These things had nothing to do with me anymore.

I started walking forward, and after walking a dozen steps, Luke called out to me from behind.

"Ginger, I didn't tell you the truth."

I stopped.

"The doctor said the gastric ulcer is more serious than expected. If it's not managed properly, it might become cancerous."

I turned around to look at him.

Luke stood under the sun, his white T-shirt blindingly bright, still holding that bag of medicine in his hand.

I gripped my hands tightly, my voice inevitably hoarse: "Luke, why are you telling me these things?"

Luke looked up at me, his eyes dimming slightly.

"I'm just afraid... afraid that I won't be able to look at you for much longer."

I stood there, not knowing what to say.

He walked over and switched the medicine bag to his other hand.

"You go back, it's hot outside."

I turned and left without looking back again.

At night, I lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

The phone lit up; it was a message from Luke.

[Ginger, what I said today wasn't to make you feel soft-hearted.]

[I just wanted to tell you that for every second of the time I have left, I want it to be related to you.]

I stared at the screen, typed a few characters, and sent them.

[What exactly is your illness?]

There was a long silence on the other end.

[Gastric ulcer with bleeding; the doctor says there's a risk of malignant transformation, and I need regular check-ups.]

[When was it diagnosed?]

[After you left.]

I gripped my phone tightly and didn't reply again.

The moon outside the window was very bright, shining on the floor as if covered in a layer of frost.

The phone lit up again—the final message.

[Ginger, you don't need to pity me. During the three years I made you wait, no one pitied you either.]

I turned over and buried my face in the pillow.

Chapter 24

I stared at the message, the light from the phone screen making my eyes ache.

He was right.

During those three years, no one pitied me, not even I would allow myself to feel pity.

Early the next morning, my mother knocked on my bedroom door.

"Ginger, Luke's father called last night."

I sat up. "What's wrong?"

"Luke had a high fever last night, alone in his apartment, and wasn't found by the building management and taken to the hospital until this morning."

I gripped the corner of my quilt.

My mother looked at me, hesitating, before finally speaking: "Would you like to go see him? After all, you grew up together..."

"No."

I cut her off, my voice harder than I intended.

My mother sighed, said nothing more, and turned to leave.

After the door closed, I sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the small patch of sunlight on the floor.

My phone vibrated; Aunt Lu had sent a message.

[Ginger, Auntie knows you don't want to see Luke. But he keeps calling your name; he’s been doing it since the ambulance ride. Auntie really can't bear it anymore. Could you please come see him? Just for a look.]

I stared at the line of text, typing a few words and deleting them, over and over again.

Finally, I sent: [Which hospital is he at?]

After sending it, I changed clothes and left.

When I reached the hospital, Aunt Lu was waiting in the hallway, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

She grabbed my hand: "Ginger, I'm so glad you came, so glad."

I walked to the hospital room door and looked through the glass window.

Luke was lying on the bed, his face as white as paper, an IV in the back of his hand, and the ECG monitor beside him emitting a rhythmic beeping sound.

His eyes were closed, his lips moving as if saying something.

I couldn't hear him, but reading his lips, it was my name.

Aunt Lu whispered beside me: "From morning until now, he hasn't stopped."

I stood at the door, my hand on the handle, but I couldn't bring myself to press it down.

Suddenly, Luke opened his eyes and looked straight at the door.

The moment our eyes met, his gaze brightened, like a drowning person seeing driftwood.

"Ginger..."

His voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible, but I knew he was calling me.

I pushed the door open, walked in, and stood by the bed.

"You came," he said, his voice faint, the corners of his mouth forcing a smile, "I knew you would."

"Your mother called me," I said, "I didn't come of my own volition."

His smile stiffened, but he quickly recovered.

"Regardless, I'm glad you came."

I looked at him. I had seen this face for twenty years; it was much thinner now, the cheekbones protruding, the eye sockets sunken.

I had so many harsh words I wanted to say.

But now, they were all stuck in my throat, unable to come out.

Luke simply reached out and slowly gripped my wrist.

This time, I didn't shake him off.

Because his hand was too cold—cold like iron tracks in winter.

"Ginger," he looked into my eyes, his voice very soft, "if I really don't make it this time, can you forgive me?"

My throat tightened; I couldn't speak.

His fingers tightened a fraction on my wrist.

"You don't have to forgive me for everything, just a little bit will do."

"Luke, stop talking to me like this."

I tucked his hand back under the quilt and turned to leave.

"Ginger."

I stopped.

"Will you come back tomorrow?"

I didn't answer, pushed the door open, and walked out.

When I reached the end of the corridor, I stopped, leaned against the wall, and looked up at the fluorescent light on the ceiling.

The light was too dazzling, making my eyes ache.

When I stepped out of the hospital entrance, the sunlight was intense; I squinted.

Luke suddenly sent a message.

[Ginger, you held my hand just now.]

[I'm very happy. That’s the happiest thing that’s happened to me recently.]

I stood under the sun, looking at those two lines.

I tucked the phone into my pocket without replying.

But the corners of my mouth moved uncontrollably.

I raised my hand to cover my mouth and stood in the sunlight for a long time.

Chapter 25

The next day, I didn't go to the hospital.

The third day, I didn't either.

Luke sent messages every day; I didn't reply.

I didn't answer any of the calls he made.

On the evening of the fourth day, Aunt Lu called, her voice trembling.

"Ginger, Luke... he refuses to have the surgery. The doctor said if he drags it on, it will be too late. He won't listen; he says if you won't see him, he won't do it."

I gripped the phone, my nails digging into my palm.

"What surgery?"

"Gastrectomy. The doctor said the lesions have spread. If he doesn't have it, he has three months at most."

Aunt Lu couldn't continue; muffled sobs came from the other end of the line.

I hung up and stood before the window for a long time.

Then I changed my shoes and went out.

When I arrived at the hospital, it was already dark.

Luke's room door was closed, and the lights inside were off.

I pushed the door open; he was sitting by the bed, moonlight streaming in through the window and falling on him.

He was so thin he was nothing but a skeleton; the hospital gown hung loosely on his frame.

"You came," he said, his voice faint, not turning around.

"Why won't you have the surgery?"

"You won't see me, so who would I be doing it for?"

I walked up to him, looking at his face, which was so pale it was almost transparent.

"Luke, you have the surgery for yourself, not for me."

He looked up, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes, bright as if shattered.

"Ginger, I have the surgery so I can see you a few more times. If you don't come, who am I supposed to see? The doctor said it might recur even if removed, but if not removed, I have three months at most."

"Ginger, three months—can you not even give me these three months?"

My throat tightened as I forced myself to speak: "Have the surgery first, we'll talk after that."

He shook his head.

"Ginger, you're lying to me. You'll never give me another chance, will you?"