Chapter 1

For seven years, my girlfriend, Sienna Jacoby, struggled with emotional avoidance. She never initiated a conversation with me.

Whether I discussed major or minor matters with her, she only replied with either [1: Yes] or [2: No].

Even when I showed her the medical record that confirmed my uremia diagnosis, she gave a curt response and turned to go to work.

My best friend, Ethan Quinn, once advised me, "A woman like her is worse than an air conditioner. At least an air conditioner knows when to cool you down and when to warm you up. What is the point of being with someone like her?"

I stroked the ring on my ring finger and smiled. "She is just sick and does not know how to express herself. She loves me."

A month later, on my birthday, I arrived at the restaurant late and saw Sienna sitting next to Ethan. They leaned closely together.

The woman who always acted cold toward me beamed as she carefully wiped the rain from my friend's forehead.

Ethan wore Sienna's coat.

I looked away and fixed my gaze on the text message I sent to her a few minutes earlier.

Clint Button: [Sienna, it is raining heavily today. I did not bring an umbrella. Could you come and pick me up?]

Sienna: [2: No]

I stood still and realized that I was the sick one. I had been blind as a bat.

Chapter 1

My best friend, Ethan Quinn, saw me and waved at me with a smile.

I walked over, but Sienna Jacoby did not look up at me.

The woman who never took the initiative to do housework at home was now using hot water to help Ethan wash the dishes.

Ethan said excitedly, "It is raining heavily today. Your trip here must have been tough!"

I nodded but did not say anything.

Ethan continued excitedly, "It has been a long time since it rained this heavily. I did not know what to do when I came out of the office building. Fortunately, Sienna brought an umbrella and sent me here. Otherwise, I would have been late too!"

"Oh, really?" I forced a smile and looked at the woman in front of me. "Since you brought an umbrella, why did you not come and pick me up?"

Sienna continued her actions and placed the dishes in front of Ethan one by one. She said calmly, "There is only one umbrella."

She remained as concise as ever.

She picked up Ethan with her only umbrella, so she could not do the same for me.

However, I was the one who worked in the same company as her and was the easiest to pick up.

The waiter served the dishes. There was parsley in the corn soup. "Madam, we added more parsley as per your request."

"Okay, thank you." Sienna smiled at the waiter.

Ethan took a sip, and his eyes lit up. "Wow, it tastes so good. You know me so well!"

Sienna smiled for a moment, clearly in a good mood. She glanced at me silently and gestured for me to eat too.

Holding the spoon, I could not bring myself to eat.

I disliked parsley. Seven years with Sienna, and she still had not remembered. Or perhaps she remembered, but she did not care.

After becoming sick, I became more sensitive to smells, and I could not suppress the rising nausea. I let out a dry retch.

Sienna frowned at me. She remained silent, but I saw the disgust in her eyes.

Ethan looked at me wide‑eyed. "Clint Button, here. Give me all the parsley in your bowl. I will finish it for you!"

He winked at me and picked all the parsley out of my bowl.

Sienna looked at him approvingly and used her fork to put meat on his plate.

I never knew that my girlfriend, who was so germaphobic that she used serving utensils even at home, would use her own cutlery to serve food to other men.

Although it was my birthday, no one wished me happy birthday throughout the entire meal.

When paying the bill, the waiter served a dessert. Sienna took it and handed it to Ethan.

As we left, she lifted the curtain for Ethan and then let go.

The heavy curtain fell and hit my face, making my eyes well up.

When I came to my senses and looked up again, the two of them were already ten meters away. They were shoulder to shoulder and close, as if it had been just the two of them all along.

After turning the corner, their figures disappeared completely. No one looked back at me even once.

I stood quietly for a while before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

I went back to the office and continued working overtime until early morning.

A colleague joked, "Clint, you are sick and still working so hard. You are still not home at this hour. Will Ms. Jacoby not be worried?"

I smiled and glanced at my phone.

There was no phone call, nor a single message of concern. Only a question mark from Sienna, sent two hours earlier.

Every time we argued, Sienna chose the silent treatment. Every time, I was the one who gave in first.

I stared at that question mark until my eyes turned sore, and everything suddenly felt pointless. I opened the chat and typed slowly and deliberately: [Sienna, let us break up.]

Chapter 2

Five minutes later, Sienna texted back a [2].

Without asking why or where I had gone, she only sent a simple [2].

I smiled bitterly and took a deep breath to stay calm. Since I had decided to break up with her, I should let go of everything.

I opened the hospital website and made an appointment for surgery with trembling fingers.

It was already late at night when I got home. The house was quiet and pitch‑black.

I knew Sienna was already asleep.

Suddenly, I remembered that every time she worked overtime, I waited for her to come home. Even if I was extremely sleepy, I left a light on for her.

I turned on the flashlight on my phone and walked silently back to my bedroom. It was called a bedroom, but it was actually a converted study.

Sienna slept in the master bedroom alone. She said my breathing disturbed her when we slept together. She only came into my room when she had needs. After completing everything like a robot, she left without lingering for a single second.

Since I fell ill, she had not entered this room for a long time.

When I got up the next morning, Sienna was already having breakfast. As usual, she only made her own breakfast, listening to a financial podcast and browsing the news.

When I walked past her, she still did not give me a single glance.

The hydrangea on the balcony was bought on the day I was diagnosed with my illness. After just two days without watering it, it had withered and died.

For some reason, I suddenly felt agony.

I picked up a bucket and watered the hydrangea repeatedly, hoping it would come back to life.

However, the withered leaves and flowers fell off with the water, devoid of any vitality.

Suddenly, I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face. I cried for the flower, myself, and this rotten seven‑year relationship.

Sienna at the dining table did not glance at me. She simply turned up the podcast volume to drown out my sobs.

I slowly stood up and walked over to Sienna. "Let us talk."

Sienna paused the podcast, placed her hands on the table with her fingers crossed, and tapped the surface lightly with her fingers.

Every time I tried to talk to her, she adopted this posture, eyes unfocused and expressionless.

I knew it was a sign she was distracted.

I asked anyway, "Did you see the breakup message I sent?"

She nodded.

A subtle, persistent pain welled up inside me, and I pressed on, unwilling to give up. "Do you not have anything to say to me?"

She looked at me in confusion. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Her phone alarm rang. She picked it up and walked past me.

She had no hesitation, as if I were invisible.

The moment the door opened, I heard a familiar male voice.

Ethan greeted me with a smile at the door. "Clint. Sienna is giving me a ride to work. Come along."

Having worked at the same company as Sienna for seven years, she always insisted on keeping work and personal life separate. She never gave me a ride, rain or shine.

Today was Ethan's first day at work, and she was already giving him rides.

A gust of wind blew in from the balcony, and I suddenly felt very cold. Instinctively, I reached to close the window, but tripped over a bucket of water, spilling water all over my pant legs.

I quickly picked up the bucket.

Looking up, they were already gone.

The sound of a car driving away was heard outside.

Chapter 3

An hour later, I arrived at the company alone.

As soon as I entered the work area, I heard colleagues whispering.

"Hey, I just saw a new guy get off Ms. Jacoby's front passenger seat. He sprained his ankle when he got out, and Ms. Jacoby carried him upstairs."

"Does that mean Ms. Jacoby is dumping Clint?"

"Definitely. For all these years, have you ever seen Ms. Jacoby give Clint a ride?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. It is so obvious whether one loves someone."

When they saw me come in, the colleagues shoved each other and scattered.

I walked straight to my office, but found Ethan sitting in my seat.

"Why are you here?" I asked with a frown.

Ethan pointed innocently at the plaque on the desk and said, "Sienna asked me to sit here."

The nameplate still showed the same position, but my name had been replaced with Ethan's.

Sienna handed the onboarding manual to Ethan and turned to leave.

I called after her, "Sienna, should you not explain this to me?"

Sienna did not turn around. She said icily, "I told you to address each other by our titles in the company."

Ethan jumped up, his voice urgent. "Sienna, you should explain. Or Clint will misunderstand."

A two‑second silence followed.

Sienna turned to me and pointed to the workstation next to the restroom. "Your seat is over there."

A growing crowd of onlookers had gathered outside the office.

I suppressed my rising resentment and managed to squeeze out a few words. "Why?"

Perhaps too lazy to explain, Sienna glanced at the supervisor, George Norris, who immediately pushed his way through the crowd.

"Clint, calm down. Ethan's artwork represented our company in a competition and just won a major international award. Although you have been with the company for many years, this position is ultimately given to the most capable."

"What artwork?" My heart skipped a beat as I snatched an artwork from George's hand and flipped through it page by page.

This was my sketchbook.

It was something I had painstakingly drawn stroke by stroke over a month of sleepless nights, yet the signature in the bottom right corner was Ethan Quinn.

My eyes widened in disbelief as I looked at Sienna. "Was it you?"

Only she could enter the study and take my manuscripts.

"You gave my designs to Ethan and put his name on them?"

When I confronted her, Sienna stood beside Ethan, her expression unchanged. "Does it matter? It will not change the outcome anyway."

Her tone was flat and emotionless.

My words were like a pebble thrown into a deep pool, creating no ripples because she did not care at all.

However, I did.

"This is my life's work. Of course it matters." I finally could not hold back and cried out to her.

George lowered his head and remained silent.

Sympathetic glances fell upon me from the crowd.

Sienna did not react. She turned around and said to George, "He is too emotional. He is not suited for this job. Let us suspend him."

I gave a bitter laugh, tears falling to the ground. "Suspend? Sienna, listen here. I quit."

I ripped off my employee badge, slammed it heavily on the table, and turned to leave.

On my way home in a taxi, the sky was overcast. The summer breeze felt cool on my face.

I suddenly remembered that it was a similar rainy day when I confessed to Sienna.

Back then, we had been in a situationship for a long time, but Sienna never made her feelings clear.

Unable to keep my feelings to myself any longer, I confessed to her first.

Unexpectedly, Sienna disappeared for three days after my confession.

Just when I was about to give up on this relationship, she appeared at my doorstep in the rain. She said she had always been avoidant and was afraid to face her feelings because her parents had been divorced since she was little. However, she decided to be brave for me.

I would never forget what she said when she slipped the silver ring onto my ring finger. "Clint, I am not good with sweet talk, but I will prove my love with my actions. One day, I will replace this silver ring with an expensive wedding band and give you a good life."

Her eyes were sincere, seemingly glistening with tears.

From then on, I quit my job to fully support her in starting her business.

Ethan once spoke up for me. "Clint, you have a high level of education and a strong resume. Many big companies want you. Why join her small company?"

I smiled, grateful to have a friend who stood up for me and a girlfriend who truly loved me. At one point, the two of them grew closer and closer.

Raindrops fell on my face, and it felt cool.

I took off the silver ring I had caressed countless times and threw it out the car window. "Sir, change course and go to the city hospital."

Chapter 4

Lying in the examination room, the doctor examined me. "Conservative treatment can still sustain your life, but surgery carries risks and could be life‑threatening. Are you sure you want surgery? Do you want to discuss it with your family?"

I looked out the window. The long‑awaited rain finally began to fall, blurring my vision.

I picked up my phone, my finger hovering over Sienna's name.

Placing her profile picture next to Ethan's, I suddenly realized how much they looked like matching profile pictures.

I checked her Facebook. The woman who always shared financial news and could not be bothered to commemorate our anniversary had surprisingly posted a photo.

It was a picture of her and Ethan from behind.

The caption read: [He said he wanted to take this photo.]

I put down my phone, tears welling in my eyes. I took a deep breath and whispered, "I have made up my mind. It is time to end it."

The cold instruments churned inside me, but I only felt relief.

On the day I was discharged from the hospital, the doctor handed me a packet of supplements and gently patted my back. "Since you got sick, you have been coming to the hospital alone. I want to tell you to remember to be kind to yourself before being kind to others."

I nodded, feeling touched.

Back home, I opened the door and was met with Sienna and Ethan, naked and pressed together.

The woman who behaved like a machine in front of me seemed to be releasing all her pent‑up anxiety and desire. "Ethan, I love you so much."

"How much?"

"I want to pluck the stars from the sky for you. I want to see you every time I open my eyes." The woman greedily stroked the man's back, passionately expressing her love.

It sounded natural, as if she had practiced it countless times.

Even though I had mentally prepared myself, seeing it with my own eyes still felt like a thousand ants gnawing at my heart. It was a tiny, persistent pain.

This time, I did not argue, make a scene, or ask why. I turned and left.

Sienna finally reacted. She pulled up her pants and ran toward me. "Clint, I can explain."

I stopped and looked at her amusedly. "Fine, explain."

Sienna licked her lips, touched her nose, and avoided my gaze. She was not good at lying, and she always did this when she was nervous. "Ethan and I are both from single‑parent families. I just want to take care of him. Are you hungry? How about I cook you some pasta?"

She was changing the subject again.

Whenever she encountered a question she did not want to answer, she subconsciously avoided the topic, pretending nothing had happened.

With a thud, Ethan knelt in front of me, crying, "Clint, blame me. Do not blame Sienna. I was the one who initiated it. You always told me Sienna had no sense of romance, and I was just curious if she really did not know how to love."

I leaned down and quietly looked at this friend I had known for 20 years.

Once, I thought our friendship was stronger than any romantic love.

"Did you also plagiarize my work and take my job position out of curiosity?"

"Clint, do not put it so harshly." Sienna, who was always expressionless toward me, was now glaring at me fiercely, chiding me for another man.

Unbothered to watch their display of affection any longer, I picked up my luggage and turned to leave.

Sienna wanted to chase after me, but was stopped by the sobbing Ethan in her arms.

After comforting Ethan, Sienna searched all the shopping malls, cafes, and parks I frequented, but could not find me.

Seeing her distraught state, Ethan comforted her. "Do not worry. You have been together for seven years. Clint will not leave you. Besides, he is a uremia patient. Where could he possibly go? Do not worry about it."

A knock rang at the door. Sienna breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to open it. "Clint, where have you been..."

It was a deliveryman holding a plastic bag at the door. "Miss, this is from the city hospital. They said Mr. Button prescribed some medicine, but forgot to take it."

Sienna opened it and saw the words "Post‑Kidney Transplant Instructions" written in large font.

Late at night at the airport, I boarded a flight to go overseas.

A moment before takeoff, I received a text message from Sienna.

Sienna: [Clint, do not be impulsive. Whatever it is, could you come back and talk about it?]

I replied just like her: [2: No]

After sending that text, I removed the SIM card and turned off my phone.