For Her Sake, He Married Me

Right after returning from a business trip, Cecelia Moore held her ultrasound report as she hurried to the private suite at the club. She was eager to surprise her husband, Francis Rivera. Just as she was about to open the door, she caught a few words drifting through the crack that stopped her cold. "…So, Fran, did you really marry Cecelia Moore just to protect Melody Green?" In that instant, every drop of blood in Cecelia's body seemed to freeze—she couldn't move. Chapter 1 Francis Rivera's voice was colder and more certain than Cecelia Moore had ever heard before. "Yeah. During the car crash, Cecelia's father shielded her but died instantly, while she suffered serious injuries. "It was fortunate that I altered the evidence and lied in court, thereby protecting Melody. Otherwise, her future as a celebrity would have been ruined by the drunk driving charge. "The Moore family is down to just Cecelia. She's fully devoted to me. If I make her my wife and keep her under my nose, I can guarantee that she won't have her eyes on Melody anymore." Someone hailed him and said, "Smart! That's really smart! But aren't you worried Cecelia might find out?" Francis let out a low chuckle. "Her? She just needs to play her part as my wife and enjoy the easy life I give her. As for Melody… I can give her everything except the title of Mrs. Rivera. So, keep your mouth shut. Don't go running your mouth about this in front of Cecelia." Each word felt like barbed wire, digging into Cecelia's body and ripping her apart. She almost blacked out and barely stayed upright by leaning against the icy wall. The ultrasound report she held, which was once filled with happiness, was now crumpled in her trembling hands. At her father's funeral, Francis had hugged her tight and said in a hoarse voice, "Celia, from now on, I'm your family." When he proposed to her on one knee, fireworks lighting up the sky, he looked at her like she was his whole world. "Celia, I promise I'll make the driver who hurt your father pay. I'll win the case." Late at night, he came home cold and tired, but always pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. "Celia, I missed you. Only when I'm holding you do I feel alive again." All that tenderness. All those promises. The vow that she was the only one in his life… The place she thought was her sanctuary was actually the bastion that sheltered the murderer. Suddenly, her phone vibrated in her pocket. The screen flashed with the word "hubby". It was like a thorn in her eye. Cecelia took a deep breath and rushed to the soundproof stairwell, her fingers shaking as she answered. "Celia? Where are you? I just finished a call about an international acquisition. I'm swamped and won't be home for a few days as I need to prepare for the case. Remember to eat on time. Don't wait for me, okay?" Francis's voice was gentle and full of concern, just like always. However, in the background, she could faintly hear the clinking of glasses. Cecelia bit down hard on her lip. The taste of blood filled her mouth, but she forced herself to sound natural. "Okay… Sure." "Good girl." Francis sounded a bit more relaxed. "When this case is over, I'll take you to the auction. They finally have some news about that glazed pottery from the Renaissance era you've talked so often about. And don't forget, the nights are quite cool now. Your hands and feet get cold quickly, too. Remember to use the electric blanket. Don't catch a chill." He was thoughtful, as always. Then, she heard someone teasing in the background, "Hey, Fran! Checking in with your wife again? That's a model husband right there…" Francis's voice turned stern. "Shut it. Celia's shy, so don't talk nonsense in front of her." But when he spoke to her again, he slipped right back into his gentle tone. "Celia, go to bed early. Love you." The line went dead, leaving only the empty sound of the dial tone. Chapter 2 Cecelia slid down the cold wall with her back against it, her body losing strength until she sat on the floor. The floor was spotless, but it felt icy to the bone. The faint laughter from the private room stung her heart. All those sweet recollections turned into the cruelest of mockery, tearing apart every cherished memory and all her feelings. She realized she had been living a carefully crafted deception. Francis used their marriage and her love just to protect the woman he truly cared about. Cecelia stumbled her way home, empty and numb. She simply let the grief and sense of betrayal tear her apart. - A few days passed. Cecelia's phone chimed, and she almost grabbed and unlocked it on instinct. It was Melody's latest post on her social media, published fifteen minutes ago. No words, just a live photo. In the warm light of a fancy restaurant, there's a man's hand, pouring red wine for her; a shiny ring is visible on his finger. In the comments, Melody had added a clarification. [I landed safely! Nothing feels better than being picked up by people you know! Thank you for waiting with me for three hours!] So, the important "international acquisition case" that kept him from coming home was really just an excuse to pick up Melody at the airport. His promise to "spend time with her after work was done" was just a way to soothe Cecelia so he could be there for the woman he actually wanted! Cecelia's heart became completely cold. Even her own self-denial was snuffed out by this image. She wanted to leave! The thought of leaving had never been so clear or so overwhelming in her mind. She opened the appointment app on her phone. The earliest date to get a new passport was in seven working days. There was still time. Next, she went to the private women's hospital app and stared at the option for "termination of pregnancy." "Confirm appointment." A cold green notification appeared on the screen. Cecelia lifted her hand and placed it gently on her belly. This had been her hope for the future, but now, with all of Francis's lies, all her hopes were in ruins. 'I'm sorry, baby. I can't bring you into a world of lies and manipulation. I can't let you have…a father like this.' And as for the real culprit behind her father's death, Cecelia would never let her get away. At the hospital, the doctor looked at her report and sighed. "Mrs. Rivera, the car accident caused severe damage to your pelvis. Being able to get pregnant on its own is already quite a miracle. If you go through with this surgery, well… You may never be able to have a child again." May never be able to have a child again. Those words hit Cecelia like a hammer, shattering what little strength she had left. A sense of hesitation and tenderness as a mother unexpectedly emerged. Her child… The only child she might ever have… Was she really going to end this miracle herself? Cecelia left the hospital through the main door in a stupor. The afternoon sunlight was harsh, and she lowered her head to avoid it. By chance, she caught sight of a giant LED screen on the street corner showing an entertainment news update. The screen was crystal clear as the camera focused on a charity gala. Francis stood tall and straight in a perfectly tailored dark suit. He was listening to Melody as he turned to her, who smiled beside him as she talked. She wore a stunning red dress, her makeup impeccable, gazing up at him with trust and admiration. Standing together, they were the perfect match. The news ticker below scrolled by like poison. "Up-and-coming legal superstar Francis Rivera attends charity night with top celebrity Melody Green!" "Childhood sweethearts with a strong tie! A perfect couple admired by all!" The netizens commented, "This is what a real power couple looks like! I'm obsessed!" As for her, the so-called "Mrs. Rivera" didn't exist to anyone in the world Francis constructed. Cecelia's stomach wriggled. She held onto a cold streetlamp, wanting to throw up—but all that came out was some stomach acid. It felt like someone had forced a huge, icy stone into her chest, and it was so heavy she could barely breathe. Of course. She was nothing but a shield for her father's killer. Nothing but a pathetic joke. Chapter 3 When Cecelia finally dragged herself home, it was already dark. To her surprise, the lights were on in the living room. Francis was actually home. When he saw her come home, he set down his tablet and got up to greet her. He reached out naturally to take her bag. "You're back. Why do you look so pale?" She dodged his hand, her voice dry. "Where's Melody?" Francis froze for a second, then explained, "Oh, Melody just got back from overseas. She said she didn't have anyone to go with her to a dinner event, and I happened to be free, so I went to give her a hand. "Her new apartment still smells from the renovations, and staying in a hotel isn't convenient, so I let her stay at the villa in the countryside for a few days. You know, it's tough for her to be on her own, especially since she was a public figure…" He trailed off, watching Cecelia for her reaction before adding, "Don't worry, it's only for a few days. She'll be gone soon." "She's staying at the villa? In the countryside?" Cecelia's head snapped up, her voice trembling. "That's our marital home, Francis! We picked it out together, decorated it together! You didn't even ask me before letting her stay there?" Every piece of furniture and every detail carried her hopes and dreams for their marriage and future. However, they bought a small apartment downtown for the sake of Francis's work. Cecelia had never complained, always willing to move back and forth for him. And now, he had let another woman walk right in and take over the only place that still felt like home to her, just like that. A flash of annoyance flashed in his eyes, quickly replaced by deep disappointment. "Melody's just staying in the guest room for a few days. We grew up together, and her family helped me a lot back then. Now that she needs help, of course I'm going to give her a hand. You don't have to be so jealous." "Jealous?" Tears welled up in Cecilia's eyes, but she forced them back through sheer will. That sounded like the worst joke she had ever heard. The cold that filled her heart spread to every part of her body, leaving even her fingertips numb. She looked at this man who was once so familiar yet now so distant, and saw nothing but disappointment in his eyes. It was as if she were the unreasonable and narrow-minded one. Every bit of anger, pain, and resentment was suspended in that look of his. Cecelia didn't even have the strength to argue. In his mind, even this little bit of emotion was a mistake. The night grew late. After his shower, Francis got into bed, thinking Cecelia was still angry at him. He pulled her into his arms from behind, trying to tease her in the sweet voice he always used. Suddenly, his phone lit up in the dark. It was a call from Melody. He quickly got out of bed. Cecelia could vaguely hear his deliberately lowered but still gentle voice. "Melody? What's wrong? The villa's too big and you're scared? Alright, don't worry, I'll come over right now…" His footsteps faded, and the master bedroom door was quietly pushed open. He came over, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to Cecelia's forehead, his breath warm. "Something came up at work. I must go handle it. Don't wait up. Get some sleep." He softly closed the door, and his footsteps faded into the distance. In the darkness, Cecelia lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. That kiss on her forehead was still burning. Her feelings as a wife, and even her existence, meant nothing before Melody. Cecelia suddenly got up, then pulled out her suitcase. She didn't touch any of the expensive clothes or jewelry Francis had given her. She just packed her own things one by one, silently and carefully. After she had finished, she put the suitcase in the closet. She then sat back down on the cold bed and waited for the sky outside the window to slowly turn bright. The first light of morning crept through the heavy curtains. Francis hadn't come home all night. Cecelia walked barefoot across the cold floor to the corner of the study, walking to a place she rarely entered, and stopped in front of Francis's safe. Without thinking, she tried the date of Melody's birthday as the password. Click. The lock opened. Her heart clenched, like she was torturing herself on purpose. Chapter 4 There was no cash inside the safe, just a single brown file folder and a photo album. Cecelia opened the folder first. It was an investigation report about her father's car accident. As she skimmed the cold words on the paper, a few key lines stood out and seared into their mind. "…Upon review, the driver's blood alcohol content far exceeded the threshold for driving under the influence…" All the documents and evidence were there, complete. Cecelia's fingers shook violently as she held the papers, her knuckles straining under the pressure. Francis had used his expertise and power to carefully fake evidence, clearing the real culprit of all criminal charges. Melody, who was driving under the influence. All just to protect the bright future of his precious childhood friend. Before he died, her father had held Francis's hand, his eyes cloudy but full of hope. "Fran… I'm leaving Celia to you… Take care of her…for life…" Francis had knelt by the bed, eyes red, his voice choked but determined. "Don't worry, sir! I swear, I'll protect her with my life. I will never let her down!" The promise still echoed in her ears. But the one he protected was the person who killed her father! The one he refused to let down was Melody! The crash that stole her only family and changed her entire life was nothing but a problem that might affect the career of his so-called childhood friend. A tidal wave of grief and absurdity swallowed Cecelia whole. Her chest was cramped with pain as she held it tightly, but the taste of blood still filled her throat. She numbly copied and photographed every piece of evidence. Then, she picked up the photo album from the safe and opened it. It was full of photos of Francis and Melody, from their school days up until now. In every photo, Melody leaned into Francis, her smile bright and happy. The most recent one was from just last month, even. The background was a beach at a foreign resort. Melody wore a revealing bikini, arms wrapped around Francis's neck, planting a clear kiss on his cheek. He didn't push her away or look annoyed. Rather, he had turned toward her slightly, lips forming a smile, his eyes filled with an indulgence Cecelia had never seen before. Her heart felt like it was being pierced again and again, until all that was left was a gaping, frozen hole. At this moment, every suspicion and every pain was confirmed in the cruelest way possible. This home now felt like a prison. Using the last of her strength, she went to her studio downtown. That was the only space left that was truly hers. However, Cecelia had just sat down when a commotion broke out outside. Chapter 5 Through her studio's tall windows, Cecelia saw something absurd. A dozen bodyguards in matching black suits and white gloves lined up neatly outside her studio door, each of them carefully holding a dust-cloth-covered item in their hands, obviously valuable. The lead bodyguard knocked politely. Under Cecelia's cold gaze, he directed his team to place each item in the reception area. They lifted the cloths, revealing a collection of antiques from elite auction houses. "Madam, Mr. Rivera asked us to bring these for you. He said he knows you didn't sleep well and have been in a bad mood, so he hopes these little trinkets will cheer you up," the bodyguard said, his tone stiff and formal. The commotion drew everyone working on the same floor to come and watch. "Oh my god! Isn't that the record-breaking porcelain bowl from Sotheby's last month? Mr. Rivera is going all out!" "He's really spoiling her! All of this just because his wife's upset? What a perfect man!" "Cecelia is so lucky! Mr. Rivera is handsome, rich, devoted, and romantic!" "I'm so jealous! If my husband cared even a tenth as much…" Standing among all these antiques, Cecelia felt nothing but bitter irony as she listened to the admiration and envy outside. Her face showed no emotion, and her eyes were as empty as the void. Finally, she walked straight back to the door. With a bang, she shut it in front of all the stunned bodyguards and onlookers, locked it, and pulled the blinds. The world fell instantly quiet. Outside, the bodyguards hesitated before calling Francis. As soon as Francis got the call, he cleared his schedule for the next few days and came home early. Cecelia was sitting by the window, her figure so thin that she looked like she might be scattered by the wind. "Celia." Francis softened his voice and walked over, trying to hug her from behind. However, Cecelia quietly moved away. His hand froze in the air before he sat on the single sofa next to her. "Are you still angry about last night? I just…" "I miss my dad." Cecelia suddenly said, her voice was light as air. Francis gulped, his voice unconsciously tight. "Your father… If he's watching from above, he would only want you to be happy. Don't overthink things." Eager to change the subject, he quickly said, "Right, I booked a three-day trip on the Starocean Cruise, top-deck suite. Let's go together, get some fresh air, watch the sunrise, and leave all the bad memories behind." He looked at her with expectation, almost a plea, though he didn't realize it himself. Cecelia turned to stare into the sky again, silent. Francis took that as agreement. - The cruise ship sounded its horn and cut through the blue sea. On the top deck, Francis's friends were already waiting. When they saw Cecelia, they all put on exaggeratedly warm smiles. "Celia! You finally made it! Fran's been so worried about you, his hair's about to go gray!" One friend directed the staff to bring over several beautifully wrapped gift boxes. "We heard you cleared out some things from home, and Fran was really upset. He had us search the city for the latest and best. Why don't you give it a look and see if there's anything else you need?" The boxes glittered in the sunlight, so bright they strained Cecelia's eyes. Chapter 6 Cecelia simply looked at the gifts presented to her by Francis's friends, her face expressionless. "You're so lucky!" A sweet voice cut in. Melody strode over, showing off in a sparkling, skin-tight mini dress. She wrapped her arm around Francis's arm, her eyes full of hidden jealousy and hate, but her smile was very sweet. "Fran treats you so well! I'm so jealous! If my future boyfriend is even half as thoughtful as him, I'll count my blessings!" Melody said, deliberately emphasizing the word "boyfriend." Everyone around them burst into laughter. The salty ocean wind blew by. After a moment, all Cecelia could feel was suffocation. She turned to head back to her cabin for some air. As she rounded the corner, she saw Melody pulling Francis into a lounge. Cecelia quietly followed. Through the crack in the door, she saw Melody clinging to Francis, arms around his neck and red lips almost kissing his ear. "Fran, I'm scared," Melody said, a sob in her voice. "Cecelia looked at me so coldly… Does she know it was me who…ran over her dad that year? Is she going to have her revenge on me?" Cecelia's nails dug deep into her palms, but she didn't feel a thing. Francis stiffened, then raised his hand to pat Melody's back, his voice low and steady. "Don't worry, Melody. As long as I'm here, she'll never know the truth. I swore I'd protect you, and I will. She can't hurt you." Melody broke into a smile and nestled closer in his arms, her voice even sweeter. "You're the best, Fran. I have a surprise for you…" She looked up at him with flirtatious eyes, gently placing a hand on her own belly. "Congratulations, you're going to be a dad!" Francis froze completely, his eyes narrowed in shock. Melody saw his reaction and instantly pouted, looking aggrieved. "Does our baby have to be hidden away like some dirty secret? It makes me so sad…" After a few seconds, he seemed to have made up his mind. He held Melody's face, his voice both comforting and cold. "Don't worry, Melody. You can have the baby. If Cecelia really can't accept it, if she won't raise the child… I'll give her enough money and divorce her. I'll take care of you and the baby. I won't let you suffer." "You're the best, Fran!" Melody hiked up her skirt and tangled herself with Francis. The room quickly filled with a steamy heat. Every word they said was like stakes shooting right into Cecelia's heart and twisting it. The truth about her father's death. Francis's promises to protect Melody. Melody's pregnancy. And how easily he tossed his wife aside… It was like one poisoned stake after another, reducing her already shattered heart to dust. So, in Francis's game, she was just an obstacle that could be swept away with money. All her years of love and even her father's life… She now wondered, what did they mean to him? A sharp pain ripped through her chest as she clamped a hand over her mouth, just barely keeping her sob of despair inside. So… This was how utter despair felt. Chapter 7 Cecelia rushed to the deck and by the railing. The icy sea breeze cut through her, chilling her to the bone. She didn't know how long she stood there. "Isn't it lonely watching the sea by yourself, Celia?" Melody's vomit-inducing sweet voice sounded behind her, full of smug triumph. Cecelia didn't turn around. Melody walked over, deliberately pressing close, her voice low and laced with malice. "Don't be stupid. I'm the only one he ever truly loves. As for your short-lived old man…" She sneered, full of disdain. "He only has himself to blame. He didn't see my car coming. Doesn't he know how to get out of the way when such a beautiful car is coming his way? He deserved what he got, so he won't be in my way anymore!" Every word she spouted scorched the deepest wounds inside of Cecelia. She remembered the moment her father pushed her away in his final moment. The numbness shattered, replaced by overwhelming grief and hate. "Melody!" Cecelia's eyes were bloodshot as she whipped around. "You murderer!" Fury took over. She raised her hand and slapped with all her strength toward Melody's cruel face. A flash of cold satisfaction crossed Melody's eyes. Instead of dodging, she caught Cecelia's wrist. Then she suddenly flung herself backward, screaming in terror. "Ah! Don't push me! Help!" Everything happened in an instant. Melody pulled Cecelia off balance, and the momentum pulled both of them toward the rail. Cecelia went over the edge, the cold scent of seawater rushing up to meet her. "Melody!" Francis's voice shouted in panic as he shot across the deck. His arms reached out, grabbing… Melody. He pulled Melody back with all his strength, shielding her protectively. And Cecelia, losing her last grip, plunged straight down toward the freezing sea, torn apart by the cold wind. Splash! A huge splash echoed out, and the cold water swallowed Cecelia whole. The icy sea stabbed into her skin and bones like thousands of needles. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, setting her chest on fire. Then, the worst happened. A sharp, tearing pain shot through her belly. A rush of warmth spread from deep inside her, blood quickly coloring the water around her… She struggled, her mind going hazy. The last thing she saw was Francis clinging tightly to Melody on the deck, his eyes filled with worry and fear. He never once looked Cecelia's way, even as she fell into the sea. The cold, the darkness, and the pain swallowed her completely. Chapter 8 When Cecelia woke up again, she was in a hospital ward filled with the scent of disinfectant. A nurse was changing her IV drip. "You're awake? The baby…couldn't be saved. You've suffered a lot of injuries. Rest well." Francis hurried in, exhaustion and a hint of panic on his face. He reached for Cecelia's cold hand resting on top of the blanket, but she pulled her hand away, looking at him with empty eyes. His hand froze in mid-air. His voice was dry. "Celia, how are you feeling? I'm sorry… I really didn't see that you were about to fall, too. It was the angle. I only saw Melody about to fall over. I panicked, I…" Cecelia forced a twisted smile as the coldness in her chest spread, reaching her now-empty belly. Even his lies were so half-hearted… What else was left to say? "Get some rest. I'll have the doctors do a full check-up." Francis's eyes grew even more anxious when she saw her unresponsiveness. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. He instinctively glanced at the message, and his brows furrowed. "Melody… She cut her arm, and her emotional state is pretty shaken. I'll go check on her and come back right after." He turned and left, not even staying long enough to find out that both she and their baby were already lost in this so-called accident. As the door closed, silence filled the room again. Cecelia's phone screen lit up by the pillow. It was a few photos and a short video from Melody. In the photos, Francis sat by Melody's hospital bed, gently and carefully applying ointment to a scratch on her arm, the one caused by Cecelia. In the video, the two were sleeping with each other. Even in the dim light, Francis's face and Melody's voice were clear. Cecelia stared at the screen, her stomach turning. She threw off the blanket, yanked the IV from her hand, and blood immediately oozed out. However, she felt no pain at all. Her body was so weak that she could barely stand, but she gritted her teeth and, using the wall for support, changed out of the hospital gown and walked out of the hospital. Every step she took was painful, but each one made her mind clearer and her resolve stronger. The afternoon sun was blindingly bright. She took out her phone and sent the full chain of evidence, from Francis's faked evidence to how he protected Melody, to her lawyer. Her eyes were bright, with a touch of decisiveness. She only needed to complete one last commission for a client. Tomorrow, she would cut all ties with Francis, take her passport, and disappear. She forced herself back to her studio. In the center of the huge studio stood a nearly four-meter-tall scaffolding. A precious painting using silk as the canvas was mounted there, waiting for the final varnishing. Cecelia put on her work outfit, took a deep breath, and carefully climbed up the scaffolding, step by step, toward the platform above. Every step pulled at her unhealed wounds, cold sweat soaking her hair. But her eyes were steady, her fingers sure, as if the whole world had narrowed down to just her and this ancient painting. Melody, after learning Cecelia had left the hospital, came straight to the studio. She watched Cecelia's focused, determined figure. She saw the nearly finished painting and thought of Francis's growing distraction. A destructive thought took hold. Melody crept into the studio silently and methodically, her eyes fixed on the main connector beneath Cecelia's feet. A few tiny bolts were already loose. Putting on a pair of gloves, Melody quietly loosened them as far as they would go. Cecelia's attention was completely on the tip of her brush as she held her breath, and suddenly… Crack! A sharp, splintering sound rang out, and the narrow platform beneath her feet abruptly collapsed at a critical support point. Chapter 9 "Ah!" Cecelia lost her balance without warning as the wooden platform collapsed. Her pupils narrowed. In that split second, her only thought wasn't to protect herself, but to protect the painting. With the last of her strength, she threw her weight against the scaffolding, pushing it away from the ancient painting. Crash! The scaffolding shook violently, then crashed to the ground along with Cecelia from several feet up. A scaffold slammed into her chest and shoulder as she heard her bones crack. A wave of pain swept over her. Blood surged in her throat and spilled uncontrollably from the corner of her mouth. The loud crash brought people running, and darkness swallowed Cecelia completely. - It was the hospital again. It was the same blinding white lights, the same stinging smell from the disinfectant. Cecelia struggled to open her heavy eyelids, as if surfacing from the floor of an icy ocean. Every part of her body screamed with pain. Each breath caused her tearing agony. She rolled her eyes; through the blur, she saw Francis's worried, exhausted face and Melody crying beside him. "Celia, are you awake? How do you feel?" Francis's voice trembled just a little. Cecelia's gaze went past him and locked onto Melody's tearful face. "What did you do?" Every word from Cecelia tasted like blood bubbling from inside of her. "How can you accuse me like that?" Melody cried louder, as if she had been wronged. "I know you hate me…but I only wanted to apologize for what happened on the ship. Fran, you have to believe me…" Tears ran down her carefully made-up face, making her look pitiful and fragile. Francis looked at Cecelia lying on the bed, her breath unstable. Then, he looked at Melody sobbing innocently beside him. Guilt flickered in his eyes. He hesitated, but in the end, Melody's tears washed everything else away. He pulled the trembling Melody into his arms, then spoke in a low voice to Cecelia. "Celia, I know you're upset, but you can't just accuse Melody because you don't like her. She said she came to apologize. This was just an accident… The equipment wasn't secured properly. That's all." Francis paused, eyes lingering on Cecelia's pale face and immobilized shoulder, his brow furrowed, voice softening a bit. "Don't overthink things. Focus on getting better. I'll pay you triple for the painting you lost." His words were like knives, stabbing straight into Cecelia's dying heart. He had watched her bleed and nearly died, but still chose to protect her father's killer. All he offered was a cold "I'll pay you back." To him, everything she believed in, her faith, and even her life, was something that could be measured in money. Meanwhile, Melody's tears would always be the only thing he cared about and worthy of protecting. Cecelia slowly closed her eyes, refusing to look at the pair holding each other. Silence drowned out every word, shutting out this suffocating world. Good. Everything could…finally… End. - The next morning… Sunlight streamed through the blinds as Francis carried in a homemade breakfast, quietly pushing open the hospital room door. He had gotten up early to make Cecelia's favorite breakfast and some sides. "Celia?" He walked softly to the bed, his voice low and gentle. "I… I brought you breakfast. It's…" He pulled back the curtain and froze mid-sentence. On the bed, the sheets were cold. There was no one there.