Our wedding anniversary ended in such a ridiculous and careless way.

That night, after returning home, I suddenly felt a severe cramp in my stomach.

The pain intensified, growing stronger until, in the end, I only had time to call 911 before I lost consciousness.

When I woke up in the hospital, a nurse gently patted me, speaking anxiously: "It's acute peritonitis. You need surgery immediately—call your family, they need to sign the consent form."

Enduring the searing pain, I called Matthew.

No one answered.

It felt like I had been thrown into a meat grinder, the agony unbearable.

Clutching my stomach, refusing to give up, I dialed again.

But...