A seis meses da morte, a esposa do CEO arrepende-se do passado

My wife's beloved died, both kidneys failed, no match could be found, and he passed away the very year she loved him most—the same year my wife and I married.

"Your kidney matches his, so why did you refuse to donate one to him?"

"Why? It was Pei Zhixing who died, not you!"

After our marriage, my wife often roared at me.

But she didn't know—I really was about to die!

...

The night in Tianhai was thick and heavy. In the villa, the room was littered with cheap cigarette ashes and butts, so much so that even my nicotine-stained fingers gave off a pungent tobacco odor. After finishing the last cigarette, I gazed at the wall before me. In my trembling hand, the hospital diagnosis of advanced gastric cancer slipped and fell to the floor.

I have stomach cancer. In three months, I will be dead.

I laughed helplessly—not with anger at fate, nor with fear of death, but with an unbearable bitterness.

"If only I'd known, I should have given him my last kidney!"

A shrill ringtone pierced the silence. It wasn't my wife, Xu Zhixia, but her secretary, Xiao Zhu.

"Brother Jiang, 236 Nanhang Road, Miss is drunk and we can't persuade her. Please come and take her home!"

"All right, I'll be there soon!"

I hung up, swept up the ashes, grabbed my coat, and walked out as I had done so many times before.

Familiar, because such things had happened countless times these years.

After our wedding, aside from pouring her heart into th