Chapter 2: Suspicions and Sweetness

Afterwards, Carter was like a delicate flower after a storm.

He lay sprawled across the bed, hair tousled, breathing shallow. The morning sun cut through the blinds, painting stripes across his bare shoulders. He looked like a man who’d just finished a marathon, not someone barely clinging to life.

He frowned as he popped a huge pill into his mouth—his daily heart medicine.

He grimaced, swallowing hard, chasing the pill with a gulp of water. I watched, half expecting him to gag or make a face.

But today, I didn’t praise him after he took it like I usually did.

Carter wilted immediately.

His shoulders sagged and he glanced up at me, searching my face for the usual encouragement. When I stayed quiet, he looked like a kid who’d lost his favorite toy at the playground.

"So bitter. But it’s okay—"

He lowered his eyes, hooking my hand in his, fingers warm and a little needy.

His fingers threaded through mine, warm and insistent. He squeezed gently, like he needed the contact to steady himself.

"With medicine this bitter, I won’t be able to take it much longer."

His tone was so pitiful, I felt guilty all over again.

I still couldn’t believe he was faking it.

The night he was diagnosed, he knocked on my bedroom door for the first time.

He usually slept in the guest room.

He trembled as he pulled me into his arms, his voice soft.

"I might be dying soon... honey."

"Afterwards, I’ll never see you again."

That was the first time he called me honey—gentle and sorrowful.

The panic in his eyes didn’t seem fake.

And that night, we became intimate.

Thinking of it now, my heart softened, just a little.

The memory played in my mind: the way he’d held me, like he was terrified I’d disappear. It had felt real—raw and honest. I wondered if I’d just been desperate for closeness, or if he’d truly let his guard down that night.

I hugged him quickly and kissed the corner of his lips, feeling a strange tenderness.

He blinked in surprise, then smiled, a soft warmth flickering in his eyes. For a second, the tension in the room eased.

"You’re the best, babe. Be good—one kiss and the bitterness will go away."

Bullet comments started up again:

"You eat a Milk Dud and act like it’s medicine, huh? 😂"

"Girl, just spoil him! Still hugging and coaxing him! Ahh, he buried his face in her chest!"

"It’s over, little Carter is excited again—whose pajamas will suffer tonight?"

Milk Dud?

No way.

Suspicious, I pinched his chin and gave him a deep kiss, determined to get to the bottom of it.

It was actually sweet!

The taste caught me off guard—definitely not medicine. I pulled back, eyes narrowing, studying his face for a tell. He just smiled, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

Carter seemed oblivious to my probing, his eyes even softer, lashes trembling.

"I’m about to die, but if you like kissing... I’m willing to cooperate."

"I’m~ willing~ to~ cooperate~ with~ you~ 😏"

"Fake-sick bro, heart rate’s 180 and still acting."

"Huh? Can VIPs see his heart rate too?"

"Sis, not just heart rate—we see all his stats."

"Even his thoughts? Oh please, I’ve never begged anyone in my life."

"Let me tell you, it starts with a 2—girl can really eat."

Ahem.

Why do they comment on everything?

But the data was accurate.

I’m starting to think these bullet comments might be true.

I pushed Carter away, squinting at him, my suspicion growing.

My mind raced, piecing together every odd moment. I couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion any longer.

"Babe, I’ll handle your medicine from now on."