Miles was once the golden child of the Conservatory.
For my sake, he beat up a powerful and influential teacher and was expelled. He became a dropout, despised by everyone.
While I graduated smoothly and became a music producer, the stark contrast gradually broke him down.
I endured his endless torment without complaint or regret. The moment I received my cancer diagnosis, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
...
I heard a rustling sound from the bedroom. Quickly, I stuffed the report into my bag.
Miles came towards me, drying his damp hair. I bowed my head, pretending to be focused on choosing the vegetables.
He let out a light chuckle and came up behind me, pressing his body against mine, nuzzling my cheek intimately.
"Where did you go this morning?"
"I woke up and couldn't find you."
I swallowed hard and pushed the report further into the depths of my bag. I didn't want him to find it, yet part of me hoped he would notice something was wrong.
Taking a deep breath, I said the words I'd been rehearsing for so long.
"I felt dizzy and went to the hospital for a check-up."
He ignored the tremor in my voice and chuckled lightly, his tone full of malice.
"You have a tough constitution. That old man tortured you for an entire afternoon back then and you were fine."
"Don't waste money."
My hand paused, and the rims of my eyes turned red instantly. He grabbed my hand and tossed the vegetables aside.
Before I could react, he had already pulled me to the bedroom door. I weakly resisted his stormy kisses.
"The meal isn't ready yet," I whispered as his fangs grazed my neck, his breath heavy.
"I want something else first."
I closed my eyes and stopped resisting. He, as always, disregarded my feelings and vented his frustrations without restraint. The pain squeezed tears from the corners of my eyes.
He narrowed his eyes and leaned down to kiss the tears away.
"You look prettier when you cry."
"Your tears always inspire me."
I hazily recalled the most painful night, his eyes filled with a beastly light, his actions rough and forceful. After that night, his mind was flooded with inspiration.
He excitedly shared his discoveries with me, yet I couldn't find a trace of tenderness in his words.
As his heavy breathing subsided, my memories abruptly ended.
He sat up in bed and reached for a cigarette.
"When you've rested enough, go make dinner."
Dragging my broken body, I got up and went to the bathroom. The steam from the hot water engulfed me as tears flowed.
After washing up, I walked out to find him leaning against the door, smirking at me. I wiped the corners of my eyes.
"I'm going to make dinner."
He stopped me and pulled out a necklace from his pocket.
"Picked it up on a whim."
I stared at the sparkling stone, momentarily dazed. Over the years, with Miles's temper growing increasingly volatile, any warm moments between us had become rare, and gifts were unheard of.
He walked behind me and thoughtfully put the necklace on. The chain wrapped tightly around my neck, just like the past and guilt that has bound my soul for years.
Maybe after I die, I'll finally be free?
Miles dragged me to the mirror and asked, "Does it look good?"
I didn't want him to be upset, so I forced a smile.
"Looks good."
He stood straight and patted my shoulder.
"I need to write music."
"Go on out."
Last night, he had been too rough; every step I took caused intense pain to tear through me.
As the door locked, I heard him snicker softly, "What are you pretending for? It's not like it's the first time."
"No need to put on that act and hint for me to be tender."
I forced a smile and swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat, rubbing the sore spots to ease the pain as much as possible.
I wanted to say it was fine, no need to be tender with me. After all, I would die soon.
Miles, the days I have left with you are numbered. The debt I owe you will soon be paid off.
