Back then, to give Bella Vance a good life, I stayed up late every night working on proposals and ran all over town chasing orders.
I'd wait outside a company's gates just to land one order. And if the client was in a good mood, I'd have to drink with them late into the night.
Due to this long-term, irregular lifestyle, my stomach had bled three times and was covered in massive ulcers.
I bought Bella Vance a spacious condo so she could comfortably be a stay-at-home wife.
When she wanted to go cycling, I bought her a $10,000 bicycle.
She knew Holden Holt, and since he was her mentor's nephew and had apparently looked out for her, I bought one for him too.
I was so dizzy from vomiting that I didn't have a shred of strength left. Finally, I couldn't hold out any longer and called Bella Vance.
Bella Vance opened the door with a cold expression. Seeing me collapsed on the floor by the sofa, she finally realized something was wrong.
She hurried over and, like a normal wife, asked anxiously:
"Is your stomach acting up again? We should go to the hospital."
I nodded, and Bella Vance started grabbing her bag.
Suddenly, her phone rang:
"Bella, I think I might have pulled my back while cycling today. I'm not feeling great. Can you come over?"
The moment Bella Vance heard this, she said frantically:
"Holden, I'll be right there. Don't you move, okay?"
Then she looked at me and said:
"This is just your old problem acting up. You can take some medicine on your own."
"Holden isn't feeling well, and there's no one there to take care of him. I'm going to go check on him."
With that, she strode out the door and ran off.
I was curled up on the floor alone, clutching my stomach. I tried to drag myself to the dining table to pour a glass of water, but I was in too much pain to move, without a shred of strength left.
Staring at the still-swaying security door, I sprayed a mouthful of blood onto the dining table and collapsed, stiff as a board.
I woke up in the hospital. Apparently, my neighbor had come home in the middle of the night, saw my door wide open, and found me collapsed in the living room.
I fumbled for my phone, wanting to arrange some company matters, but instead, I saw a new post from Holden Holt.
"It feels so good to have family. To be cared for and loved by someone."
I stared blankly at the accompanying photo, an indescribable exhaustion welling up inside me.
A pair of slender hands were massaging his lower back, the person straddling his hips.
Although no face was visible, the custom diamond ring on the hand could only belong to her.
Finally, I took a deep breath. 'It's time to let go.'
Just then, the doctor walked over and chided me:
"Young man, I've told you many times, you absolutely cannot keep overworking yourself like this. Your job isn't more important than your life."
"Your condition is much more serious this time. When you get home, have your wife make you more stomach-friendly foods."
"Where is your wife? Have her come by my office later. I need to go over some important instructions with her."
I gave a bitter smile. 'My wife?'
'She's busy giving someone else her warmth right now. She's long forgotten she even has a sick husband.'
I knew the doctor meant well. I was one of his regulars.
"Thank you. I'll definitely be more careful in the future."
I silently swore to myself that from now on, I would take good care of myself.
After a two-day hospital stay, I came home to find that Bella Vance had actually cooked a table full of food.
She said that Holden Holt had heard I was sick and came over to see me.
Looking at the table full of seafood, Braised Rooster, and Spicy Blood Stew, my stomach clenched.
Holden Holt emerged from the kitchen, chewing on a piece of beef:
"Bro, not to criticize, but you really should work out more. What can you even do looking like such a weakling?"
As he spoke, he shot a meaningful glance at Bella Vance.
Bella Vance smiled, opened a bottle of red wine, and said to me:
"See how thoughtful Holden is? I told him it was just your old problem, but he insisted on coming to see you."
'See me?'
My eyes scanned the living room. 'I don't see any gifts.'
I glanced amusedly at the boorish Holden Holt, who was now holding a chicken leg and tearing into it with big bites.
Bella Vance poured wine for everyone. Holden Holt wiped his mouth, downed a big gulp, and said with a smack of his lips:
"This is good wine. It's got a kick."
Holden Holt then raised his glass:
"Bro, let me toast you. Here's to a smooth recovery."
The smell of alcohol wafted over. I fought back my nausea and said with a blank expression:
"My stomach is in bad shape. The doctor told me not to drink."
Holden Holt's face immediately changed:
"What's the deal? You not gonna give me any face?"
Hearing this, Bella Vance said unhappily:
"Holden is toasting you. How can you be so disrespectful? Drink it now!"
As she spoke, she shoved the glass into my hand and said to Holden Holt with a smile:
"He's just a stubborn brat. He needs to be taught a lesson."
With that, she took my glass and forced the wine down my throat.
