My encounter with Christopher was as simple as this. Like most of the other rich playboys, he was extremely wild during parties. While drinking and gambling, he would always have a beautiful woman by his side. Back then, Lyle wanted to collaborate with Christopher on a project.
I could not remember much except for the fact that he sent a pair of beautiful girls to Christopher, who immediately burst out laughing. Hugging the two girls, he walked upstairs. When he turned around, he deliberately shot me a glance and raised his eyebrows arrogantly. He was so flamboyant.
I then contemplated it further. According to what Christopher said, he might have already set his eyes on me back then and was planning to steal me away from Lyle.
Our first time happened in a private room on the second floor of the bar. Although he pretended to be very skilled, he was still a bit amateurish when we did it. The man teased me, but his actions did not reflect his words.
Back then, my mind was set on taking revenge on Lyle. I was nervous, scared, and even flustered. As I was drunk, I just wanted to vent my emotions. I had never thought that we would progress till that stage.
Those memories had become a pleasant thing of the past. I could not help but savor these memories, reminiscing his every single gaze and action. I loved how proud and narcissistic he was when he was cooking.
I also loved it when he hugged me, especially those broad shoulders of his. When he pinned me under his body, he would always be very excited. Yet, he would kiss me with such gentleness. He loved to call me Eve when we slept together. Sometimes, I would play along with him and call him my lover boy.
When that happened, he would get exceptionally excited. As if a burst of energy was surging through him, he would move so forcefully that I lost all control of my senses. I would not even know who I was until he yelled out loud and collapsed on top of me.
At that moment, he would cup my face and kiss me endlessly. With his fingers running through my hair, he would plead me for a second time. This time, he wanted to come in from behind. He said my back was exceptionally beautiful—more so than anything he had seen.
I slept soundly that night. However, in my dreams, I felt a tightness in my chest. When I opened my mouth, a warm liquid spurted out. I wiped my mouth and saw the bloodstains all over my hands. Tasting the metallic stench of blood, I was utterly shocked. I immediately yelled for Christopher in a panic.
When Jenny heard my voice from outside, she hurried in.
“Christopher, I’m terrified. I’m going to die soon! I vomited blood.” My hands flailed in the air. In a moment of carelessness, I fell down to the ground.
“Don’t be afraid, Ms. Tanner. I’ll call the doctor over now. Please, hang in there!”
While I was in a daze, Jenny helped me to the bed. Lying there weakly, I started sobbing. No matter how strong I was, no matter how much I pretended to be nonchalant, I could not hide my fear of death.
The doctor was very dutiful. Even though he was woken up by Jenny in the middle of the night, he was not angry. Instead, he was even more anxious than I was. After giving me a careful check-up, he heaved a sigh of relief.
“There’s no need to fear. It’s normal for you to vomit out blood. There are too many toxins in your body because you’ve taken too many inappropriate medicines. Not all medicine can be taken, you know? I don’t know what medicine you’ve taken that harmed your body so much. The medicine I prescribed to you is meant to eliminate the toxins from your body. Now that it’s fulfilling its function, it’s normal for you to vomit out blood. They’re just clots in your body. Within the next half of the month, you can take off the bandage around your eyes.”
“But why do I feel so weak, as if all the strength had left my body? I feel like I’m going to die immediately,” I asked in despair.
“People don’t die so easily, so don’t you spout nonsense! Just take your medicine, and you’ll be fine. It’s just an eye disease. I’m a professional in treating that, okay?”
When I heard what he said, I felt an inexplicable urge to laugh. He did not even manage to detect my brain cancer, so how could he possibly call himself a professional? If I actually died sometime later, he might be surprised and realize that his medical skills were still unpolished.
