The car didn't crash.

I passed out in the car, and Ethan Sinclair rushed me to the hospital.

I was admitted to the ICU once again and was pulled back from the brink of death by the doctors.

When I woke up, Ethan Sinclair was quietly sitting by the bed, peeling an apple.

I asked him, "How much time do I have left?"

The apple peel, which had been continuous, suddenly broke off. Ethan Sinclair continued peeling nonchalantly,

"Three months."

I nodded, "Three months is enough."

Enough time to finalize the divorce.

This time, Ethan Sinclair didn't force me to stay in the hospital, but he still insisted on being...