Two Months Left to Love Me

On the day Grandma Maeve passed away, my divorced parents, who had both remarried, stood over her coffin arguing about who would be stuck with me.

In my past life, I felt sorry for my dad, Richard.

I chose to stay with him, hoping to ease his loneliness.

I even helped him pick the numbers for a lottery ticket that ended up winning a ten-million-dollar jackpot.

But the moment he struck it rich, he bought mansions and luxury cars for my stepmother and step-siblings.

Meanwhile, he refused to spend even a few hundred dollars on painkillers for me.

In the end, I was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor, and I died a slow, agonizing death in my cold bed.

Reborn into this life, my dad was frowning and sighing as usual.

"Hazel, your mother married a wealthy businessman. If you go with her, you'll live like a princess."

"My house is already too crowded. There's just no room for you here."

My mother, Eleanor, was casually looking at her freshly manicured nails. Her voice was icy.

"Richard, that's not fair. Kids make a house lively."

"Besides, the rules in my new home are strict. My husband's ex-wife left behind twins, and they are not easy to get along with."

"If Hazel comes with me, she'll be eaten alive."

Hearing them push me back and forth like unwanted trash, I felt absolutely nothing.

When they finally turned to me, annoyed, and demanded to know who I wanted to live with.

I silently picked up my battered duffel bag and walked over to my mother.

Eleanor's face fell instantly.

My dad let out a massive sigh of relief, a smug grin creeping up his face.

But he had no idea. Without me there to stop it in this life, that multi-million-dollar lottery ticket would be left in his jeans pocket, thrown into the washing machine by his new wife, and shredded into useless mush.

Having a second chance at life, I didn't care about the money.

I just wanted to be comfortable before my time ran out.

My dad shoved the rest of my things into my arms.

He kept staring at his phone, checking the lottery drawing date, and waved me off dismissively.

"Don't call me unless it's an emergency. I've got a busy household to run."

His mind was completely consumed by that lottery ticket. He couldn't wait to throw his useless daughter away.

I didn't say a word. I just dragged my bag toward the Maybach parked at the curb.

Eleanor looked at my pilled, oversized sweater, her brow furrowing with disgust.

The back window rolled down, and Arthur's daughter, Chloe, pinched her nose in exaggerated disgust.

"Eleanor, is this the charity case daughter you brought from the countryside?"

"Why does she smell like sour trash?"

From the passenger seat, her brother, Ethan, turned his head and gave me a cold, indifferent look.

He didn't say anything, but the disdain in his eyes was loud and clear.

My mother looked embarrassed, standing awkwardly outside the car door.

She wanted to suggest buying me some new clothes, but she was too terrified of upsetting her new family.

Arthur Sterling, my stepfather, saw her embarrassment. He closed the business document in his hands.

"Let's stop by the mall first. Get the girl some decent clothes."

I lowered my eyes and nodded quietly.

Following them into the high-end department store, the bright, sparkling lights hurt my eyes.

Arthur asked the personal shopper to bring out several pieces from the new seasonal collection.

My mother pulled me behind a clothing rack, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper.

"Pick the cheapest ones. Don't look like a greedy beggar."

"Arthur is rich, but that money has nothing to do with you."

"Learn your place. Don't make things difficult for me."

I watched her perfectly painted lips move, feeling completely detached.

It had been a very long time since she had shown this much concern for me.

Too bad this "concern" had nothing to do with love.

I turned around and randomly pointed at a rack of clothes.

Chloe strutted over. Seeing me look at a simple white dress, she immediately snatched it away, giving me a smug glare.

"I want this one. You don't deserve to wear something this nice."

Eleanor immediately put on a fake, flattering smile.

"Of course! Chloe, it looks much better on you anyway. Hazel can pick something else."

Looking at my mother's eager-to-please face, I silently stepped back.

I just pointed at a basic t-shirt on the clearance rack.

Arthur walked over and looked at the cheap t-shirt.

He frowned slightly, then turned to the sales associate.

"Take that white dress, along with the other new arrivals, and pack them in her size."

Chloe stomped her foot in anger.

"Dad! Why are you buying her such expensive clothes?"

Arthur gave her a stern look.

"Our family isn't so poor that we can't afford a few dresses. Don't make us look cheap."

My mother quickly chimed in.

"Yes, yes. Arthur is always so thoughtful."

She then turned and glared at me.

"Well? Thank your Stepfather Arthur."

I took the shopping bags.

"Thank you, Arthur."

Half an hour later, we entered the Sterling family estate.

The grand winding staircase and massive crystal chandeliers were breathtaking.

The luxury penthouse my dad had bought in my previous life seemed like a tiny shack compared to this palace.

But none of this mattered to me.

I carried my bags and quietly retreated to the bedroom my mother pointed out.

The room was huge. The bed was incredibly soft.

I lay down and closed my eyes.

A dull, throbbing pain was already starting to echo in my head.

At dinner, my mother was desperately trying to teach me table manners.

"Hold your fork and knife like this. And don't make disgusting noises when you eat your soup."

She was terrified I would embarrass her and ruin her status in this house.

Chloe sat across from me, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

She picked up a bowl of steaming hot soup and handed it to me.

"Here. Have some soup."

Just as I reached out to take it.

She intentionally let go too early.

The scalding hot soup spilled directly over the back of my hand.

Before I could even gasp, my mother was already shrieking.

"How could you be so careless!"

"Do you know how expensive that rug is?"

"Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up, now!"

She cared about the rug. She cared about her reputation.

She didn't care at all about my red, blistering skin.

I wiped my hand with a napkin, stood up, and bowed slightly.

"I'm sorry."

Arthur set down his utensils, his expression darkening.

"Chloe. Apologize."

Chloe rolled her eyes.

"It was an accident. She just didn't catch it."

Arthur's voice went cold.

"I won't say it again. Apologize."

Chloe muttered a half-hearted "sorry."

My mother quickly tried to play mediator.

"Oh, they're just kids playing around."

"Hazel has tough skin, she's fine. Arthur, please don't be mad at Chloe."

Arthur ignored my mother entirely. He slid a tube of burn ointment across the table to me.

"Go put this on."

I took the medicine.

"Thank you."

Back in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, gently applying the cream.

My phone rang. It was my dad.

The background was loud with the sounds of a rowdy bar and glasses clinking.

He took a drag of his cigarette, his voice dripping with arrogance.

"Hazel! Your old man is about to be filthy rich!"

"My lottery numbers are a guaranteed win!"

"But since you chose to go with your mother, don't think you can come back to beg for a single dime of my money."

"I have big plans for this cash."

"Just stay out of my way over there!"

I rubbed the ointment over the blisters on my hand, my voice completely flat.

"Okay. Hope you get rich."

I hung up. Suddenly, I heard soft footsteps outside.

My mother was standing at the door.

She pushed it open, looking at me with pure suspicion.

"Don't go calling your trashy father."

"Don't bring his peasant energy into this house."

"It took me years to secure my place here."

"Behave yourself, and don't drag me down with you."

I stared at her perfectly preserved face.

"Okay. I will."

She seemed satisfied with my submissive attitude and shut the door.

In the middle of the night, a migraine hit me like a sledgehammer.

It felt like my skull was being split open. A cold sweat broke out all over my body.

I pulled open my nightstand drawer. My bottle of painkillers was empty.

Clutching the wall, I slowly made my way downstairs to find some medicine.

The living room was pitch black.

I walked toward the patio, only to find Arthur standing there, apparently suffering from insomnia too.

He held a glass of red wine, staring out into the dark night.

Hearing me, he turned around.

Under the moonlight, he looked at my pale, lifeless eyes and spoke softly.

"Chloe's mother passed away when she was very young. That's why she acts like a porcupine."

"Don't take it to heart."

He poured a glass of warm water, found a box of extra-strength painkillers from the first-aid kit, and handed them to me.

I took them and swallowed two pills.

"Thank you."

He studied my ghostly pale face.

"When I was sick years ago, I couldn't sleep at all."

"The doctors told me I had less than six months to live."

"Every night, the pain made me want to crash my head against the wall. Even breathing felt like torture."

"Everyone around me was just waiting for me to die so they could split my estate. No one thought I'd make it."

"But I refused to give up. I dragged myself through chemotherapy and surgeries."

"And look at me now. I'm still standing."

He turned back to look at the night sky.

"No matter how cruel the world is to you, your life belongs to you. Don't give up on it easily."

For the first time since my rebirth, I felt a flicker of genuine human warmth.

I gripped the warm glass of water.

"I understand."

Over the next few days, life was relatively quiet.

Under Arthur's warnings, Chloe stopped causing trouble for me openly.

But she still hated my guts.

Every time we passed each other in the hallway, she would deliberately bump my shoulder.

Or at dinner, she would push the dishes she knew I disliked right in front of me.

Ethan always watched from the sidelines, never participating, but never stopping her either.

I didn't care.

One afternoon, I came back from a hospital checkup.

The oncologist told me that the tumor was spreading much faster than expected. I had two months left. At most.

I pushed open my bedroom door, only to find Chloe rifling through my duffel bag.

Ethan was leaning against the doorframe, frowning as he watched her.

"What are you looking for? Get out of there before Dad catches you."

Chloe was stubborn.

"Mind your business."

"I just want to see what kind of trash she's hiding in here."

She dumped the bag upside down. Several empty prescription pill bottles tumbled out.

Along with them was a worn, faded photograph of my Grandma Maeve.

Seeing me walk in, Chloe froze, clutching one of the empty pill bottles.

The mocking words she was about to say died in her throat.

"Why... why do you have so many of these heavy painkillers?"

She stammered.

I walked over, quietly took the photo of my grandmother from her hands.

I carefully wiped her fingerprints off the photo with my sleeve.

Then, I swept the empty pill bottles back into my drawer.

"Are you done?"

My voice was as faint as a whisper.

"If you're done, please zip my bag back up."

Ethan stared at the pill bottles, then at the photo of my grandmother. His eyes grew complicated.

He stood up straight, grabbed Chloe's arm, and pulled her back.

In a stiff but sincere voice, he said, "I'm sorry. She shouldn't have touched your things."

I stared at Grandma Maeve's smiling face in the photo.

"No need to apologize."

"Nothing lasts anyway."

Those words seemed to strike a chord in Ethan.

He looked at my dead, hollow eyes, his expression shifting into something unreadable as he dragged Chloe out of the room.

The room fell silent again.

A moment later, my phone vibrated frantically.

My dad had sent over a dozen texts on Snapchat.

"That stupid bitch put my jeans in the washing machine! The lottery ticket is ruined!"

"It's all gone! Shredded into paper pulp!"

"Did you know this would happen?! Why didn't you warn me before you left?!"

"We're getting a divorce now!"

"Pick up your phone! Get over here!"

Looking at the angry texts, I could perfectly picture his veins popping on his forehead.

In my past life, I had practically burned my hands trying to fish that ticket out of the washing machine to save him.

And what did I get? He abandoned me the moment he got the cash.

I coldly typed back a few words:

"I didn't know."

Then I blocked him, silenced my phone, and threw it onto the bed.

My head throbbed violently again. I popped two of my new painkillers and swallowed them dry.

That evening, I went for a walk along the tree-lined path outside the estate.

The fresh air helped ease my headaches a bit.

Just as I turned a corner, a shadow blocked my path.

It was my dad.

His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a wild mess, and he reeked of cheap whiskey.

He grabbed my arm in a death grip.

"The ticket is gone! My life is ruined! Everything is gone!"

He glared at me, spitting saliva onto my face as he yelled.

"I remember you saying you were sick in your past life, right?"

"You still have that illness now, don't you? Go tell your rich stepfather!"

"He has millions! Get some money out of him for me!"

"If you don't, I will stalk you every single day!"

"Nobody is going to live in peace!"

I winced, trying to shake off his grip.

"Let go of me."

Furious, my dad raised his hand, about to slap me.

"You ungrateful little brat! How dare you speak to me like that!"

But before his hand could fall, someone caught his wrist mid-air.

Arthur appeared behind us. He shoved my dad's hand away with immense force, shielding me behind his broad shoulders.

Ethan stepped up from behind, pushing my dad back.

"Get the hell away from her."

My dad stumbled backward, nearly falling onto the gravel.

Looking at Arthur and Ethan, his tough-guy act instantly vanished.

He didn't dare mess with Arthur Sterling, so he resorted to pointing and screaming at me.

"You just wait! This isn't over!"

Arthur's eyes were razor-sharp.

"If I ever see your face near this property again, I will personally ensure you spend the rest of your life begging on the streets."

My dad shivered, shrunk back, and ran off into the dark, stumbling over his own feet.

Arthur turned to look at me. For the first time, he took my hand.

"Let's go home."

Ethan glared coldly at the direction my father had fled.

Only after confirming he wouldn't dare return did he turn and follow us back.

Back in the living room, Arthur was clearly displeased by the scene.

His face was grim as he went straight up to his study to deal with work.

Ethan dragged Chloe off to the home theater.

Once Eleanor made sure they were out of earshot, she completely lost her mind.

She felt that Arthur having to step in and handle her trashy ex-husband made her lose all dignity in this house.

She rushed up to me, grabbing my collar, sobbing hysterically.

"Why can't you just be invisible?! Why do you have to ruin everything?!"

"Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get a scrap of respect in this house?"

"You got here, and now it's all ruined!"

"That pathetic excuse of a father of yours actually came here to beg!"

"What if Arthur decides to throw me out because of this?!"

"Why did you choose to come with me in the first place?"

"Do you just hate seeing me happy?!"

She got more and more frantic, her nails digging into her own palms.

Finally, she went quiet.

She pulled a credit card out of her purse and threw it onto the coffee table.

"Take this money and get out."

"Go live in a dorm, rent an apartment, do whatever you want."

"Just don't come back here."

I looked at the woman who had given birth to me, yet looked at me with such pure disgust.

I had long since grown used to her selfishness and coldness.

I forced a pale, faint smile.

"Don't worry. I won't be an eyesore for much longer."

My mother frowned, taking a step back in disgust.

"Are you playing the victim again?"

"I say two words to you and you look like you're about to die"

Before she could finish her sentence.

I felt a sudden, uncontrollable warmth rush down my nose.

A thick drop of crimson blood fell onto the pristine white rug, bright and terrifying.

Arthur and the twins had just walked back into the living room, catching the scene.

Chloe let out a sharp gasp, covering her mouth.

My vision began to blur.

That familiar, tearing pain roared in my skull.

Under their horrified gazes, my knees gave out.

And I collapsed onto the floor.