Drink Three Cups

I drank three glasses of wine: the first to my youth, now gone; the second to the person I love; and the third... to me, who will soon be gone.

A slow, drawn-out journey and complicated feelings: from the blue-and-white uniforms of our youth to lovers in black and white formalwear.

We made it through the seven-year itch, our ten-year promise, and the fifteenth-year ordeal... Then, a month before my birthday, I received a terminal diagnosis.

I'm going to die.

But my husband doesn't know. In fact, the night before my birthday, he had his secretary deliver me a divorce agreement...

And ordered me to sign it and return it the next day.

But I was in so much pain. I accidentally coughed up blood before I could sign, and my breath was gone.

I died completely and utterly.

[First-person POV, bad ending]

Please add my next tragic story to your reading list! Here's the blurb:

A hole opened in my heart, and it began to bleed and fester, becoming a scar branded into me.

Someone cursed me, saying I was a lowly Beta, humble and base to the very marrow, and that I deserved to be ridden by anyone.

Then he beckoned me over, and I went with him.

Theme: Love is precious, but life is worth more