He left the room and gently closed the door.

The ward fell into silence. The autumn sun streamed in through the window, illuminating everything.

Mark slowly got out of bed, wearing a loose blue and white hospital gown.

He had lost much of the muscular build he once had and appeared considerably thinner.

Nevertheless, he retained his handsome appearance.

His skin was flawless, his eyes had deep sockets, and his eyelashes were Long.

All his features were still striking.

Mark said gently, "Why are you just standing by the door? Come and sit down. Let's talk."

Cecilia, however, continued to stand at the door, biting her lip as she softly inquired, “Why didn't you tell me?"

This took Mark by surprise.

He gave her a faint smile. He made a motion as if he were reaching for a cigarette box out of habit, but he realized he couldn't have one in his hospital gown.

He lowered his hand, gazed at Cecilia, and replied, "I let you down back then, and I'm suffering from this illness. How could I have told you? I would never have done that to you."

Tears rolled down Cecilia's cheeks.

In a hushed tone, she whispered, "You concealed it from me for four months, and you're planning to die secretly, leaving behind a struggling company for Edwin Mark corrected her, “I'm not planning to leave secretly."

Cecilia's gaze shifted to the documents on the bedside table.

For some reason, she suddenly lost her temper.

She walked over and angrily pushed the documents to the floor.

The papers scattered with a splash.

Mark allowed her to vent her anger.

Cecilia looked at Mark. With a trembling voice, she said, "Mark, you think you're doing what's best for me, and you're taking responsibility for our two children. But have you ever asked me what I truly want? You make all the decisions! I never get to say anything!"