I lay on my side, quietly watching the birch trees outside the window.

Footsteps echoed at the door, different from the usual sound of the caregiver's steps.

I turned my head slightly, and saw Barry walking in slowly, placing the flowers he brought on the bedside table.

I stared at him, expressionless.

I had been in the hospital for a month. Aside from the day of the accident, when he rushed in to take the blood plasma, he hadn't shown up since.

It was only thanks to the nurse, who couldn't stand it any longer, that a caregiver was arranged to look after me.

Meanwhile, my so-called husband was busy...