I Livestreamed My Recovery from Addiction, and My Ex-Girlfriend Went Wild with Regret

It was the third year since I was diagnosed with terminal bone cancer.

My ex-girlfriend, the one I had supposedly “abandoned,” was now a no-nonsense criminal police captain. She led her team in a raid on my rental apartment.

Every day, I needed high doses of morphine pills just to stand upright and look vaguely human.

When she saw me covered in needle marks, convulsing as I reached for the medicine bottle on the table, she gave a cold laugh.

“What happened? Seven years apart, and you've turned yourself into a junkie?”

“Where's that ambition you had when you climbed the social ladder back then? Now you can't even keep your dignity for a dose of ‘medicine’?”

As soon as she finished speaking, I shakily pointed at the bottle and asked,

“Officer... please, could you give me my medicine?”

The woman sneered, picked up the bottle, went into the bathroom, and flushed it down the toilet.

“You want it? Go ask for it at rehab!”

“Looks like running off with someone back then didn't just make you heartless. It rotted you to the core.”

My whole body convulsed with pain.

“Oh... then, am I going to die?”

After I said that, I curled up on the floor, trying to use the method the doctor had taught me to endure this wave of agony.

She watched coldly, filming me and saying I would make a good cautionary example.