As Seraphina made her way to Sterling Medical Center, the internet was flooded with comments about her diagnosis. Her name was trending everywhere.
“To be honest, I think Seraphina’s brave. She’s clear about her feelings and her boundaries. It’s quite impressive.”
“Exactly. A lot of people admire Julian. As long as she’s not destroying his marriage, her feelings are her own.”
“Her older videos and that livestream from Crest Villa gave me a glimpse into the lives of the wealthy. It’s sad she won’t be around much longer.”
“Who is Julian’s wife, anyway? She should just let him be with Seraphina. The girl only has six months left.”
“I know her. It’s Elara Vance, a musician. She stopped working after she got married and became a full-time housewife.”
…
At Sterling Medical Center, Elara’s phone kept buzzing. Calls and messages poured in one after another.
Some feigned concern. Others were looking for information. A few were openly mocking her. All of it was about Seraphina and Julian.
Elara had read enough headlines to understand what was happening with Seraphina’s illness.
She didn’t click on anything else.
It didn’t matter anymore.
Once the divorce was finalized, Julian would no longer be a part of her life.
She checked the time. When she looked up, she saw Maya walking toward her.
“How are you feeling?” Maya asked, concerned. “Any pain?” She saw the strain on Elara’s face and, without needing to be asked, reached out to help her up.
Elara managed a small smile and shook her head.
She had made her decision. Some things just had to be faced.
Maya understood, but she just sighed and helped Elara to her feet. They took the elevator.
The elevator doors opened on the ground floor.
The hospital was packed, even more so than usual. Elara noticed a few reporters scattered in the crowd.
“So many people today. Probably another celebrity here for a check-up,” Maya said.
“They always bring this kind of attention…” She stopped abruptly, her expression changing. She had seen something and quickly tried to steer Elara in the other direction.
But it was too late. Elara had already spotted them.
Julian stood tall, his presence commanding attention effortlessly.
The noise and chaos around him didn’t seem to touch him—his hair was perfectly styled, his suit immaculate, as if the pandemonium dared not come near.
Seraphina stood beside him. She looked small and frail, her face pale, which made her appear even more fragile.
She stumbled slightly. Julian quickly stepped in to catch her, shielding her from the cameras and the crowd.
“Don’t look,” Maya said quickly, stepping in front of Elara, her tone sharp with anger.
“Maya, let’s go,” Elara said, her voice calm. She had made up her mind; Julian didn’t need to know she was there, and she had no desire to cross paths with him now.
“Why should we go?” Maya snapped, her anger growing. “You’re not divorced yet. He’s still your husband. And he’s here holding another woman in public. It’s shameless.”
Husband…
Elara looked away, sighing.
There was a time when she would secretly smile just at the thought of Julian being her husband.
But not anymore.
“I don’t feel well, Maya. Let’s just go,” Elara said, changing the subject.
Maya gave her her full attention now, no longer looking in Julian and Seraphina’s direction.
They left. Across the lobby, Seraphina glanced over. A flicker of triumph crossed her face.
“I’m sorry, Julian. I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess,” she said, a hint of remorse in her voice. “I know you hate being in the spotlight…”
“It’s fine,” Julian replied. “Let’s go see the doctor first.” His face remained calm, but something stirred in his thoughts—something fleeting, hard to define.
They entered the consultation room.
Seraphina handed her medical record to the doctor.
The doctor read through it slowly, his brow furrowed.
“This looks serious,” he said.
Seraphina gave a faint smile. “I know,” she said quietly. Then she took a slow breath. “Please prescribe something strong for the pain.”
“In your current condition, I recommend you stay in the hospital and begin treatment,” the doctor said. “You should try. There’s still a chance we can extend your life.”
“What’s the point?” Seraphina gave a sad smile.
She brushed away the tears welling in her eyes and said quietly, “I don’t want treatment.”
Julian’s fingers tightened around hers.
She gave a small shake of her head.
“Doctor, I just want to spend the last phase of my life with some dignity,” she said. “So, please prescribe some strong painkillers.”
The doctor sighed deeply but finally nodded in understanding.
Outside, reporters were taking photos and recording videos relentlessly before posting them online.
People watching were emotional.
“Good heavens, this is a real person whose life is ending.”
“I cry when I’m in mild pain. I can’t imagine what late-stage cancer feels like. But she still manages to smile. She’s really strong.”
“I couldn’t hold back tears when she said she wouldn’t go through treatment. Only people who’ve faced a serious illness can understand this feeling.”
Public sympathy for Seraphina reached its peak.
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