Like some photographs, certain peoples are treasured in wallets, while others are relegated to the obscurity of hidden corners.
Daisy Buchanan placed her photograph in the closet.
Atticus Finch never paid attention to such places.
The bitter pain that churned in her stomach caused beads of cold sweat to form on her forehead.
She made her way to the bedroom and opened the cabinet, skillfully selecting a few bottles from the neatly arranged collection, and swallowed the pills with a glass of warm water.
Daisy was ill, a fact unknown to Atticus.
Yet, her medication was never concealed, openly displayed in the bedside table, a multitude of bottles in a row.
At first, Daisy feared Atticus would discover them, but later she found herself hoping he would notice, if only to prove that he cared.
But perhaps, in this life, Atticus would never know, for Daisys belongings were never touched.
The bitterness spread from her tongue, permeating her mouth as she eased the pain in her stomach. After a while, she tidied up and left the house.
Daisy walked the long corridor of the hospital, pressing down on her aching head, recalling the doctors words from earlier, a sense of loss washed over her.
"Miss Buchanan, your condition is not optimistic; we advise against leaving the hospital."
The doctor, with a stern face and serious tone, had pronounced her fate.
"Ive made up my mind, thank you, doctor."
Daisys pale lips curved into a faint smile; she too wanted to live.
However, she knew that even with treatment, it would only alleviate some of the pain without changing the outcome. Why bother, then?
Moreover, today marked the fifth anniversary of her marriage to Atticus, and Daisy wished to leave no regrets. She had to go home.
After leaving the hospital, Daisy went to the mall to pick up ingredients for tonights dinner.
Five years, day in and day out.
She vividly remembered when she had specifically sought out a renowned master to select an auspicious date for their wedding.
The master declared that the 20th of October was an excellent day for marriage, and most couples marrying on this day would enjoy a lifetime of happiness together.
Daisy was particularly delighted at the time and, in gratitude, extended the offering of incense at the masters temple for two whole years.
However, it was only later that she realized.
October 20th, for her, was a carefully chosen day of good fortune.
But for Atticus, it was nothing more than the gateway to an abyss of endless torment.
...
Daisy arrived home before the sun set and redecorated the house.
She filled the rooms with pink roses and white balloons she had pre-ordered, and placed candles on the dining table.
Instantly, the house was filled with a romantic atmosphere that had been absent for quite some time.
Daisy smiled with satisfaction and, in high spirits, also freshened herself up.
When she placed the pan-seared steak on the table, the front door opened, and Atticus Finch walked in with his briefcase.
Atticus was unaware that Daisy had returned without warning, and upon seeing the scene before him, he stood rooted to the spot, unmoving.
"Atticus, youre back. Come have dinner."
Daisy smiled brightly, took his briefcase, and led him to sit at the dining table.
All her actions were fluid, and Atticus, perhaps still processing the situation, offered no resistance for once.
"Snowflake steak, your preferred medium-rare. Try it."
Daisy thoughtfully cut the steak into small pieces and arranged them on Atticuss plate, then asked hopefully, "Do you remember what day it is today?"
Atticus sat motionless, allowing Daisy to continue her preparations.
His memory was quite good, and a day like October 20th, which brought him so much pain, was certainly unforgettable. Yet, looking at the scene Daisy had prepared, he found it utterly ridiculous.
For him, today was the source of his suffering, so what was there to celebrate?
As he was about to make a sarcastic remark to Daisy, the woman across the table spoke up.
"I know youve never liked or accepted any of this, but I promise this is the last time, there wont be another."
Daisys voice was hoarse, like a stream about to run dry, weakly flowing into Atticuss ears.
She said this was the last time, there would be no more...
"Atticus, just stay with me this once."
The usually selfish Daisy spoke with such softness.
Atticus looked up abruptly, unaccustomed to this tone, and looked at the woman across from him.
In the candlelight, her face was pale, her eyes hollow and lifeless, her collarbone sunken, and her entire body appeared emaciated.
When had this woman become so thin...