Dylan and I met when we were young. We promised each other forever during our naive years.
After graduation, I passionately joined him in starting a business.
I lived with him in a basement. I went with him to the vegetable wholesale market at 3 AM. I pushed a cart with him, selling burgers in cold winter.
Step by step, year after year.
I was with him as he went from a penniless boy to a nationwide restaurant tycoon with thousands of chain stores.
I stayed with him for ten years.
In the tenth year, he knelt before me with a dazzling diamond ring.
He shouted excitedly as if he wanted everyone to hear.
"Olivia, marry me!" he said.
He always said he would wait until he could give me a comfortable life before marrying me. He kept his word.
Even though I waited from my early twenties to my early thirties, I was still happy.
Even though the doctor said I was older, my health wasn't great. I was uncertain if I could conceive, but I wasn't too worried.
Dylan said he would take care of me like a daughter. It didn't matter if we had children or not.
I believed him.
But now?
The man who said he didn't care about children got another woman pregnant.
My heart felt like it was being stabbed, a pain a thousand times worse than the cancer inside me.
