Hellbound With You Chapter 3 Reason

While departing from the city, Abigail's thoughts started to drift aimlessly.

Now twenty-two years old, she had yet to experience a single romance. Brought up in a warm and harmonious family, she blossomed into a truly virtuous young woman. Some likened her to untouched snow—refined and innocent—while others jeered, dubbing her Miss Goody-Two-Shoes or Little Miss Priss.

During her youth, Abigail became inured to the jibes from those around her, yet her grandparents steadfastly motivated her, warning against letting the surrounding waters breach her ship or risk sinking. Nurtured to embrace positivity, she vowed never to let such naysayers drag her down.

A profound reason explained her lack of boyfriends over twenty-two years. At seventeen, she uncovered a deep trauma: the dread of anyone developing feelings for her.

Abigail had beheld her father's relentless agony, lingering even years after her mother's passing. Witnessing it tore at her heart. His devotion ran so deep that, nearly two decades later, she still found him sobbing in the night over his wife's picture. Through him, she learned the sheer torment of losing a loved one—pure hell. She once overheard him confess that life felt empty since her mother's death. She realized he endured only for her.

Several years post her mother's demise, Abigail faced diagnosis with the identical disease that claimed her. It seemed she had inherited it, and from then on, she fought it fiercely. Just seventeen then, she understood, like her mother, only five years remained.

This explained her constant rebuffs of interested boys. A few had approached, but confessions ignited her terror. 'Sorry' was all she could utter. Thus, she steered clear of males whenever possible, even donning deliberately frumpy clothes to dull her allure.

Yet as time marched on, Abigail began doubting her path. 'Will I depart this world like this?'

The urges she had bottled up for so long now raged beyond restraint. Nightly dreams plagued her of savoring true love's thrill. She ached to feel those stomach flutters, to share fervent kisses and tender embraces with the one her heart adored. Webnovels she devoured stirred an irresistible yearning to taste this fabled love before her end. Her sole aspiration: to tumble into love, unearthing someone to cherish.

Inner turmoil gripped her. Terror and fret consumed her. She couldn't bear abandoning another to the suffering her father still bore. No soul deserved that grief and void.

For years, these thoughts haunted her; she believed fate accepted. But with her deadline looming nearer, her heart's cravings only intensified. Summoning courage, she resolved to chase her dream with every precious moment left.

Her envisioned path to that dream: seek a man she could adore, who'd never reciprocate. Stories of unrequited love abounded in her readings—heard and read as utterly agonizing—yet she craved it still. If this offered her sole shot at love's essence, she'd dive in heedless of wounds. Enduring one-sided pain seemed bearable compared to perishing untouched by love. Maybe she recalled that line from age eighteen: 'It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all'.

Once, under anonymity, Abigail bared her dilemma online, pleading for guidance. Her post exploded with views, sparking a storm of clashing opinions.

"Since you don't want someone to fall in love with you, then why don't you go and pick a random bad guy? I mean, there are a lot of jerks and heartless idiots out there who only know how to break hearts." This tip intrigued her most. But what if that cold-hearted pick ended up smitten?

Abigail possessed just one year more.

For the moment, she was managing well enough. Those around her, aside from her family, had no clue she was ill. Her mother had been exactly the same back then. Abigail had an inkling that her condition would begin deteriorating in the fifth year—this year. She could even predict shuttling back and forth to the hospital within the next month or two. She knew full well that her time was running out.