Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
The day I was discharged after my mastectomy, my boyfriend proposed to me in front of all the doctors and nurses.
He held open a gift box. Inside was the low-cut wedding gown I had dreamed about for three years.
The crowd cheered, urging me to say yes.
Only my best friend, Chloe, chuckled behind her hand.
"Carter, did you forget she isn't really a woman anymore? She doesn't have breasts."
"A low-cut dress won't hide that hideous, bowl-sized scar on her chest."
The color drained from my face. A wave of suffocating humiliation slammed into me, leaving me barely able to stand.
Carter pulled the box back, a faint flicker of disgust passing over his features.
"You really aren't in any shape to wear a wedding gown right now. In two weeks, let's just have Chloe wear it and walk down the aisle in your place."
I stared at the dress.
And suddenly, I didn't want it anymore.
The room fell dead silent.
After an agonizing pause, my attending physician helped me down into a chair.
I thought he was going to defend me.
Instead, he spoke up on Chloe's behalf.
"Mr. Vance and Chloe haven't had it easy these past few years," the doctor said softly.
"They've had feelings for each other all along, but kept their distance because of your illness."
My entire body froze. A sharp, searing pain tore through my chest.
Memories flashed through my mind—how Carter's eyes used to turn red with tears after every chemo session.
He would whisper, "Summer, does it hurt?"
"Hang in there just a little longer. As soon as you're better, we'll get married."
His words had been my anchor. No matter how agonizing the chemo got, I forced a smile.
Now, everyone was telling me it was all a lie.
Carter walked over, knelt in front of me, and took my withered, paper-thin hand into his.
"Summer, be good," he murmured.
"Everyone is just looking out for you. Your body can't handle the stress of a full wedding."
My eyes stung with tears. "We don't have to have a wedding at all."
Carter frowned, looking at me like I was a throwing a childish tantrum.
"Don't be irrational. Both my parents and yours know your biggest dream has always been a grand, romantic wedding."
"Having Chloe step in and wear your dress was a decision made by the whole family."
"Chloe is the one making the sacrifice here. But because she's your best friend, she agreed without a second thought."
"Summer, you should be thanking her. Otherwise, how would you ever get your dream wedding?"
Every word was wrapped in fake concern, yet it sent icy shivers down my spine.
And my parents... was this really their decision?
When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, Mom had stroked my hair and promised, "Summer, my only wish is to see you healthy and walking down the aisle to Carter."
Then it hit me—my parents hadn't visited me in the hospital for almost a year.
The few FaceTime calls we had were always initiated by me.
When they answered, the old warmth and doting love were gone, replaced by tired annoyance.
Yet that exhaustion vanished the second Chloe appeared on screen. Seeing them laugh and chat with her on the other side of the camera, they looked far more like a real family than we ever did.
Chloe had said, "Summer, just focus on resting. I'll take good care of your parents."
Mom had patted Chloe's hand, looking both touched and melancholic. "You feel more like my daughter than Summer does. Neither of our families carries the cancer gene. Why did Summer have to get it?"
Dad had just looked down in silence.
I had forced a strained smile back then. "Maybe you should just adopt Chloe, Mom."
Nobody knew how much my heart bled in that moment.
Now, my surgical incision flared with excruciating pain.
Choking back a sob, I wanted Carter to wrap me in his arms and soothe me, just like he used to.
Instead, Carter let go of my hand.
"It's time for our wedding photoshoot. Chloe and I have to go."
"Stay here and rest. Once we're done, we'll come back and take you home."
I watched their retreating figures, gripping the fabric over my chest, crying and laughing all at once.
Home?
That wasn't my home anymore.Tears soaked the blessed medallion hanging against my chest.
Before my first surgery, Carter had braved freezing blizzards to trek up the mountain trails to an old chapel just to get it blessed for me.
When he returned, his skin was cracked and bleeding from the bitter frost.
Seeing me cry, he had flashed a bright grin to cheer me up. "You used to say I was too soft. Do I look tough enough now?"
I had sobbed, nodding and shaking my head, trying to tell him that wasn't what I meant.
He had carefully avoided my surgical drainage tubes and pulled me gently into his arms.
"Summer, you're the woman I'm going to spend my life with. Taking care of you is my duty."
Yet now, all that devotion was given to Chloe.
My fingers tightened around the chain. Clenching my teeth, I ripped the medallion from my neck.
Closing my eyes with trembling hands, I tossed it straight into the trash can.
A flicker of pity crossed the doctor's eyes. He parted his lips to speak, but only sighed and turned away.
Carter, who had never broken a promise to me, broke his word for the first time.
Notifications flooded the family group chat on SnapChat with photos from the shoot.
Mom was the first to reply.
*Chloe looks stunning. Standing next to Carter, they look like a match made in heaven.*
Dad didn't lavish compliments, but wrote:
*Chloe is our daughter now too. Carter, if you ever mistreat her, you'll have to answer to me.*
Carter's mother chimed in instantly:
*Never! Carter is lucky to have a girl as wonderful as Chloe. He'll cherish her with everything he has.*
I threw my head back, staring at the ceiling.
It hurt.
God, it hurt so bad.
I couldn't tell if the pain was coming from my surgical wound or my shattered heart.
It was almost midnight when Carter finally came to pick me up.
He pushed the door open, bringing in a gust of cold air along with the sweet, cloying scent of women's perfume.
My stomach churned violently.
He paused, looking flustered. "Chloe sprayed some of her perfume on me during the shoot. If you don't like it, I'll go wash it off right now."
I buried my face under the blanket and said nothing.
Half an hour later, damp from the shower, Carter stood by my bed.
He smelled of the exact same body wash I used.
In the past, I would always curl into his chest after he showered, breathing in the scent that belonged solely to him.
Now, that scent was tainted.
"Summer, get up. Let's go home."
I didn't move.
He frowned, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice. "Stop acting out. Your parents and Chloe are waiting for you at the house."
Acting out?
A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips.
What right did I even have to act out anymore?
I avoided his outstretched hand, slowly pushing myself up from the bed.
"Let's go," I said flatly.
Stepping out the hospital doors, the winter chill sliced into my lungs like a blade.
A ragged cough tore from my throat, sending blinding agony through my fresh surgical wound.
Carter frowned, patting my back as he scolded me under his breath.
"Why are you only wearing a thin coat? Why didn't you wear the down jacket I bought you the other day?"
"Summer! Even if you're throwing a tantrum, you shouldn't gamble with your health!"
I pushed his hand away, fighting through the pounding pain in my chest.
"I'm not throwing a tantrum. You took that jacket away. This coat is the only thing I have left in the hospital."
Carter froze, his fingers curling inward.
He suddenly remembered that when the temperature dropped a few days ago, he had draped that exact down jacket over Chloe's shoulders.
"If you didn't have clothes, why didn't you tell me?" he muttered defensively.
I let out a faint scoff.
Tell him? How could I?
Every time I opened my mouth, he cut me off to drive Chloe somewhere or take her out to dinner.
The nurses had reminded him multiple times that I was dressed too lightly and that my compromised immune system couldn't handle a cold.
He had promised to bring warm clothes every single time, only to forget the moment he walked out the door.
Seeing my silence, he pulled off his own coat in frustration and draped it over me.
"We'll talk when we get home."
Carter was driving the SUV we had bought together.
Yet the passenger seat—my seat—now had a label stuck on it: *Chloe's Reserved Seat*.
Carter cleared his throat, offering a dry explanation. "Too many girls at the office were trying to hit on me, and since you were stuck in chemo, Chloe came up with this idea to keep them away."
My eyes flickered, but I didn't respond.
Watching the neon lights blur past the window, I spoke softly.
"Carter, I want to apply for that experimental clinical trial Dr. Miller mentioned."
"It's overseas. So... let's break up."The car screeched to a violent halt. The seatbelt snapped tight against my chest, tearing open my fresh stitches. Warm blood seeped into the bandages.
Carter turned to me, his eyes bloodshot, yelling, "No! I won't allow it!"
I gritted my teeth against the searing pain, carefully unbuckling the belt.
"Why not? It's just a clinical trial."
I glanced in the rearview mirror and urged, "Keep driving. You can't stop in the middle of the road."
He gave me a long, dark look before hitting the gas amidst a chorus of angry honks.
Several times he started to say something, but swallowed his words whenever he saw my eyes closed and my face turned toward the window.
When the car finally pulled up to the house—the home I had longed for over the past three years—all I felt was dread.
Standing behind me, Carter asked irritably, "Why aren't you going in? Do you expect your parents to roll out the red carpet for you?"
I clenched my hands, took a deep breath, and stepped inside.
The home I had lived in for over twenty years had turned into a stranger's house.
The SpongeBob plushie by the entryway had been replaced with sleek, expensive decor.
The family portrait in the living room had been swapped out for one of my parents with Chloe.
Mom came out of the kitchen carrying a dish. When she saw me, an unnatural stiffness crossed her face.
"You're back," she said dryly. "Sit down. Dinner's almost ready."
Without another word, she turned back to the kitchen.
The word "Mom" died on my tongue.
Carter followed her in. The sound of their easy laughter and banter drifted out, stinging my eyes.
It felt like an invisible barrier had sealed them inside and locked me out.
I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until a familiar voice spoke behind me.
"Why aren't you sitting down?"
"D-Dad..."
It was the most natural word in the world, yet it felt heavy and foreign on my tongue.
Dad gave a brief nod, his gaze drifting uncomfortably past my chest.
"Now that you're home, just focus on recovering. With us here, you don't need to worry about anything else."
A bitter taste filled my mouth.
Does that include my wedding?
For a fleeting second, I wanted to scream, to ask if I was still his daughter, why they had handed my wedding over to Chloe.
But looking at the gray hair at his temples, I fell silent.
Chloe walked over, wrapping her arm naturally around Dad's.
"Uncle, what are you and Summer whispering about?"
Dad scolded her affectionately, "Look at you, showing no respect to your elders."
I stood there awkwardly.
Chloe looked infinitely more like his daughter than I did.
The dinner table was filled with all my favorite dishes, yet the people I loved never looked at me once.
Halfway through the meal, Chloe put down her fork. "Uncle, Auntie, now that Summer is back, I should probably move back to my own place."
The smiles instantly vanished from my parents' faces.
Mom grabbed her hand frantically. "Why leave all of a sudden? Did Summer say something to you?"
I froze, my fork clattering onto the ceramic plate.
Dad barked in anger, "This is my house! I say you stay, and nobody has the right to kick you out!"
Carter turned to glare at me, his brow furrowed. "Summer, everyone has been more than good to you. Stop making us regret it."
I opened my mouth, but not a single sound came out.
The room plunged into freezing silence.
Finally, Dad let out a heavy sigh. "Summer, your mother and I are getting older. We need someone around to look after us. And with your condition..."
I bit down hard on my lower lip until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Only then did I force a smile and nod.
"It works out then. I already applied for an experimental breast cancer trial overseas. With Chloe here taking care of you, I don't have to worry."When it was time for bed, I discovered Chloe had moved into my bedroom.
Mom's expression was defensive. "You've been in the hospital for three years. Leaving the room empty was a waste, so we let Chloe have it."
"Besides, you're leaving for the trial tomorrow anyway. Just make do in the storage room under the stairs for tonight."
The emotional thread I had kept taut all day finally snapped.
"Mom... you told me that room would always be my safe haven."
Chloe's eyes welled with tears as she panicked. "Summer, don't blame Auntie!"
"She just felt bad that I was constantly running back and forth to take care of them, so she insisted I stay here."
"If you don't want me here, I can pack up and leave right now."
Though words of leaving poured from her mouth, her feet didn't budge an inch. Instead, her hand clung tightly to Carter's sleeve.
Looking fragile and helpless, she seemed far more like a dying patient than I did.
Carter pulled her protectively into his arms, completely ignoring the fact that I was standing right there.
Mom glared at me furiously. "Do you really have to tear this entire family apart before you're satisfied?"
Tear the family apart?
So fighting for what was rightfully mine was now considered destroying the family?
I closed my eyes, dragging my heavy body toward the closet-like room under the stairs.
The moment I pushed the door open, a thick wave of dust hit me. I couldn't stop the cough that tore through me, ripping agonizingly at my chest wound until all the color drained from my face.
The tiny space was crammed with all my discarded belongings.
The academic certificates and awards my parents used to frame with pride were now tossed carelessly into broken cardboard boxes.
Just like me.
A throbbing ache pulsed in my skull, the familiar aftershock of aggressive treatments.
In the past, Carter would sit by my bed for hours massaging my temples after every session.
Now, I could only curl up alone and endure it.
When I opened my eyes the next morning, Carter was sitting by my cot, just like old times.
He held a bowl of hot oatmeal, blowing on it gently as he stirred.
Seeing me awake, he carefully helped me sit up, offering a spoonful of cooled porridge to my lips.
His movements were so practiced, so tender, it felt as though nothing had ever changed.
"Eat up. After breakfast, I'll change your bandages and drive you to the airport."
My eyelashes fluttered, and I whispered, "No need."
Carter let out a soft sigh. "Summer, I'm your future husband. This is my job."
I didn't argue further. Lowering my head, a dark, morbid curiosity stirred within me, wondering how he would react when he saw the raw reality of my body.
Sure enough, the second the gauze peeled away, I caught the unmistakable flash of revulsion and disgust in his eyes.
I squeezed my eyes shut, holding back the burning tears.
"Carter, does it disgust you that your wife isn't whole?"
He jerked his head away, his voice stiff. "Don't talk nonsense."
He didn't deny it.
Carter sped up his hands, completely oblivious to how pale my face had turned from the sheer agony.
The second the dressing was taped down, he bolted straight into the bathroom.
When he came back out, the skin on his palms was scrubbed raw and red.
"Let's go. I'll take you to the airport."
I glanced around the quiet house. "Where are Mom and Dad? Aren't they coming to see me off?"
Carter walked toward the front door, answering casually, "They took Chloe to the movies."
"Besides, it's just an airport drop-off. You don't need an entourage."
After a few seconds of silence, I walked out the door.
The car sped down the highway under a brooding, overcast sky that mirrored my mood.
"Call us if anything happens over there. Don't carry everything on your own," Carter droned on with empty advice.
"And don't be mad at your parents. They've had a miserable few years because of your illness."
I pressed my lips together. After a long pause, I finally spoke.
"Carter, we're don—"
My words were cut off by the shrill ring of his phone.
"Carter! Chloe twisted her ankle, she's crying! Come back right now!" Mom's voice wailed through the speaker.
After barking a few reassurances, Carter hung up and swerved violently toward the nearest exit.
"Carter, I'm going to miss my flight!" I cried out. "If I miss this trial, I could die!"
He glared at me, his tone dripping with blame. "Summer! Can you stop being so damn selfish?"
"Chloe has been busting her back taking care of your parents! You don't have an ounce of gratitude! Now that she's hurt, all you can think about is yourself!"
I stared back at him coldly. "So what? She has an ankle sprain, she needs an ER doctor! What are you going to do, magically heal her by showing up?"
He slammed on the brakes.
The tires shrieked as the car skidded to a halt on the highway shoulder.
The next second, Carter marched around to the passenger side, yanked open my door, and dragged me roughly out into the freezing wind.
"Get out!"
"Stand here and think about what you've done. When you realize how wrong you are, I'll come back and take you home."
I stood on the gravel shoulder, watching his taillights vanish into the gray horizon. A bitter laugh escaped my lips.
Home?
That was never my home. And I was never going back.
Pulling out my phone, I dialed Dr. Miller's direct line.
"Dr. Miller... I agree to the closed-door clinical trial program."
Chapters (4)
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Watch & Promotions
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