Chapter 4
Nina’s heart gave a sharp jolt when she saw Julian glance up at her.
“If you’re running a fever, stay home,” he said coldly. “Don’t wander around.”
The Aspenridge doctor had respected patient privacy and hadn’t told him anything about her diagnosis.
She exhaled slowly, forcing calm into her voice. “Got it. Thanks.”
“You need someone to look after you,” Julian added. “I tried calling your parents. No answer.”
Nina froze.
After a long silence, she murmured, “They’re gone.”
Julian blinked. “What do you mean?”
Her eyes drifted to the window. Her voice was almost weightless.
“They died in a car crash. Two months after we broke up.”
And two months after that, she was diagnosed.
Then came the chemo. The pain. The black hole that swallowed everything.
Julian went still, stunned. He stared at her for several seconds, then slowly loosened the fists at his sides.
“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t know.”
Nina gave a small, bitter smile. “Why would you? We’re nothing to each other now.”
He didn’t answer. Just lowered his gaze and placed a takeout box on the table beside her.
“Eat something,” he said.
She opened it–and paused. Everything inside was something she used to love.
Her throat tightened. She took a bite, then another.
But the more she ate, the more her nose stung.
She had to set the plastic fork down before the bitterness in her chest spilled over.
“You have something to say, don’t you?” she asked, voice low.
Julian’s eyes darkened, but he nodded. “Samantha was really happy to see you. So… I was hoping you’d reconsider being her bridesmaid. I can help extend your visa. If there’s anything else you need, name it.”
Nina’s fingers curled tightly against the table.
“You want me there too?”
“I don’t want to disappoint Samantha.”
She couldn’t speak. The food on her tongue had turned to ash.
Julian Ford–how had she never realized how cruel you were?
You ended things without warning, without goodbye.
And now you wanted her to watch you marry someone else–smiling, pretending to celebrate.
Her vision blurred. She turned away and sniffed. “Fine. I’ll do it. But on one condition.”
Julian looked wary. “What is it?”
“Take a photo of me.”
He frowned. A small crease formed between his brows. Clearly, he remembered.
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Years ago, she had joked about cheating after marriage.
“If you ever cheat,” she’d said, “you get no house, no car, and I’ll leave you broke.”
He’d replied with absolute seriousness, “If I ever do, you can put our photo on display at the wedding and expose me for the trash I am.
I deserve it.”
Back then, neither of them had imagined that day would actually come.
Nina’s eyes burned. “It’s just a photo,” she said quietly.
Just a photo for the funeral.
She had every reason to hate him—to lash out, to make him suffer. But when it came down to it, she still couldn’t do it.
What she wanted… was simply a picture by Lake Genevieve.
With the snowcapped mountains of Aspenridge in the background.
Julian came to pick her up. But when they arrived, Samantha was already there.
Nina froze in surprise, but Samantha walked up to her with a cheerful smile.
“Julian told me you said yes to being my bridesmaid. I’m so glad! He’s terrible at taking pictures though, so how about I take yours?”
Nina hesitated. It didn’t really matter who took the photo–at least, it shouldn’t have. But then she remembered the picture on the bar
wall–the date.
The betrayal.
“No,” she said softly. “I want Julian to take it.”
A small act of revenge. That’s all she had left.
Julian held her gaze for a second before turning to Samantha.
“I’ll be quick.”
Nina stepped toward the lake. The wind cut through her coat like a blade, She forced a smile, trying to look happy, trying to look alive.
Julian raised the camera. Just as he clicked the shutter, Samantha clutched her chest.
“Julian… I don’t feel so good…”
He dropped the camera instantly and rushed to her side, panic in his eyes.
He scooped her into his arms.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
Nina stood frozen as she watched him carry Samantha away.
The car engine roared to life and disappeared down the road without a single glance back.
Eventually, Nina picked up the camera.
Only one photo had been taken..
It was blurry. Unfocused. Her face wasn’t even visible.
That was all. A smudge of light and shadow–her last photo.
A gust of cold wind sliced through her, sharp as grief. Her throat ached with the chill.
After a long while, she tucked the camera away and hailed a cab.
She went straight to the assisted euthanasia clinic.
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Inside, she met with the program coordinator.
“It says here,” she said quietly, “that the patient is allowed one final request.”
The staff member nodded. “Yes. We honor those wishes whenever we can.”
Nina gave a small smile and blinked back the tears.
“I’d like Julian Ford to carry my casket at the funeral.”
Chapter 4
