My Death Countdown (by Netulla) novel Chapter 10

Chapter 10

In Adrien’s memory, the last four days of December seemed to pass both slowly and quickly.

Alone, he went to every place he could think of, all in search of any trace of Sylvia.

He went to the hospital and heard from the doctor that the last time Sylvia came for a follow–up by herself was almost a month ago.

After she learned there was no hope of recovery, she never came back again.

He visited the alleys they used to love wandering together, and the familiar shop owner told him that the last time she came, she was alone.

The owner asked why her husband wasn’t with her, and she smiled softly, saying only five words.

“We’re about to divorce.”

He went back to the school, and the gatekeeper said that not long ago, a girl with a broken leg had indeed returned, wheeling herself around the campus alone.

On the fringe tree, the confession carved in their youth had mysteriously disappeared, leaving only a healing scab.

He met with several of her old friends and learned from them that before she disappeared, she had invited them out for a meal.

At the dinner, she got drunk, laughing and saying all sorts of nonsense, telling them to take care of themselves and not to think of her anymore…

Every place Adrien knew Sylvia might appear, she had left her mark.

And all the accounts from those who saw her were unexpectedly consistent.

Sylvia came alone, spent a long time lost in thought, and said many inexplicable things.

It was as if she was holding a grand farewell.

And this was what Adrien found most incomprehensible.

If she had discovered his infidelity and wanted to leave him, all she needed to do was ask for a divorce.

Why did she drag her inconvenient body to so many places, saying so many goodbyes?

If she hated and wanted to say farewell to someone, shouldn’t it be just him?

Looking at the heavy snow still falling outside the window, Adrien felt as if his heart, too, was covered in a vast, white expanse.

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Chapter 10

He took out his phone, snapped a photo of the snowy scene outside, and sent it to Sylvia.

“Syl, it’s been snowing these past few days. Have you seen it?”

“Are you still mad at me? I’m sorry. Will you come back?”

Adrien seemed possessed, typing incoherent messages on the keyboard and hitting send over and over again.

Message after message vanished into the void, with no response at all.

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Screen after screen of green chat bubbles scrolled upward, and no matter how far he scrolled, he couldn’t reach the be- ginning.

Gradually, he lost patience and began to give in to despair.

He pressed the record button and confessed, one by one, all the truths about his betrayal of their marriage that he had buried deep in his heart.

When the recording ended, Adrien watched as the sixty–second message was sent automatically. In that instant, the regret and guilt that had weighed on him like a mountain vanished completely.

What he once thought was as hard as reaching the sky turned out to be so easy once he made up his mind.

If it was so simple, why hadn’t he dared to do it before?

Why did he only think of making amends and confessing after he had lost everything?

Can a belated confession make up for the mistakes of the past?

Adrien questioned himself, but found no answer.

And the only person who could give him an answer had already left his world.

It had been eight whole days.

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