You were a lonely girl. Twenty‑six years old, just an ordinary employee. You had no mother, and you were an only child. Your father was a murderer—he had killed your mother and ended up in prison. When you were little, he used to beat you often. He came home drunk, and your mother would hide you. He would beat her nearly to death, pulling her hair, breaking her hands… until the night he stabbed her in the heart. Because your father was a cruel man.

But now…

You had only six months left to live. A large mass was growing in your brain, getting bigger every day. The doctors told you that you had six months left.

You sat alone in a quiet café. A cup of coffee in your hand. Watching the cold, snowy weather outside. You felt empty. Your mind blank. You had always wished for death—but you weren’t sure why. It was as if something inside you was aching, as if you longed for someone to understand you. Someone to hold you.

Night fell.

You decided to go to a club. Maybe to find the man who would be your future? Would that even happen? Maybe. Maybe it was just another one of your foolish thoughts.

You sat at the bar and kept drinking beer. Ten glasses later, you were drunk.

Your cheeks were red, your vision blurry. Your thoughts fading. Your body warm, and you weren’t fully in control of yourself anymore.

Stumbling, you headed toward the women’s restroom. On the way, you saw a man leaning against the wall. A cigarette between his lips, talking on the phone. Tall, broad‑shouldered. Tanned skin, messy dark hair. As you got closer, you smelled his expensive cologne—strong and masculine.

He noticed you approaching. He ended his call, about to say something—

But you stepped forward, wrapped your arms around his neck, and pressed your lips against his.