Fake dating my enemy, The playboy billionaire

[Yiren’s mom’s letter]

My little Yiren,

If you are reading this, then life has given you something beautiful—love.

I wish I were there to see it. To hold your hand, to brush your hair behind your ear as I used to when you were little, to tell you that you deserve every ounce of happiness this world has to offer. But I am not there, and that is the cruelest part of this life—we don’t always get to stay as long as we want. But even in my absence, my love for you remains. It always will.

My darling, I see what you are doing. I see the way you build walls around yourself, shutting out love as if it were a luxury you cannot afford. You tell yourself that it’s better this way, that if you never let love in, no one will ever have to grieve you the way your Papa is grieving me. But, my love, that is not living. That is only waiting to disappear.

I know what you fear because I have lived it. I know what it feels like to wake up and wonder if today will be the day I begin to forget the people I love most. The terror of losing myself, of becoming a burden. And now, I see you carrying that same fear like a weight around your heart, using it as a reason to keep love at bay.

But love, my darling, is not a gift reserved only for those who are guaranteed a lifetime of clarity. Love is a fire that burns even in the darkness. It is the warmth in the cold, the light that lingers even when the sun has set. Love is not just about forever—it is about now. And, oh, my sweet girl, now is all we ever truly have.

I do not want you to measure your life in the number of years you might have before this illness takes hold. I want you to measure it in the moments that take your breath away. In the arms of someone who holds you close. In the laughter that echoes through your chest. In the quiet whispers of ’I love you’ exchanged in the middle of the night in your man’s arms.

Do not deny yourself the beauty of love just because you are afraid of how the story might end. It’s not only your story, but his story as well. Every love story ends—some in years, some in decades, some in the quiet passing of time. But the ending is never what matters. It is how fiercely we love while we have the chance.

If life brings you someone who sees you for who you are, who looks at you as if you are the most extraordinary thing in the world—let him.

If there is someone whose touch sets your soul on fire, whose presence makes your heart beat in a way that reminds you you’re alive—hold on to him.

If there is someone who is willing to walk this road with you, knowing the risks, knowing the uncertainty—don’t push him away.

You are not a burden. You are not a ticking clock. You are a woman worthy of love, of passion, of the kind of joy that makes life worth living.

Hear me when I say this: Life is fleeting, my love. Memories fade, bodies weaken, time moves forward with or without us. But love is eternal. It is the only thing that lingers even when we are gone. It is the only thing I take with me, and the only thing I leave behind in you. Love does not live in memory. It lives in the soul.

So, please, my beautiful girl—live. Love. Be happy. Be brave. Don’t be afraid.

Do it for mumma. Do it for yourself.

Do it because every heartbeat is a gift, and every moment of love is a miracle.

With all my heart,

With all my love

*A secret I want to tell you. I don’t know who that man is, but I have always prayed to god for you and Jun to end up together. There was something in your petty fights that always falls under the line of love.

Mom

******

Yiren’s pov

I cried.

I read the letter again.

I cried.

I read it again and cried.

Mom, I love you. I miss you. And thankyou for showing me the path when I was lost. Thankyou for giving me the answers.

I look up at the sky, maybe somewhere mom is hearing this. And whispers, "It’s Jun, mom. That man is Jun."

My laptop is near me, the video paused. I have seen it countless times. It was just a collection of two-three videos- all taken in the hospital where Jun used to come late night, removed me from mom’s bed and gently put me to sleep on the couch, taking my place on mom’s bed. And then she’d talk to him for hours like they were old friends. It surprises me, she never forget him. A privilege that none of us had.

The night she died, she died in dad’s arms with Jun by her side while I was sleeping, unaware of everything. The same night, she expressed her desire for us to end together, to which Jun chuckled and brushed it off by kissing her forehead.

Tears rollS down my eyes as I look up at the sky, "Is that you pulling the strings from above, mom? If yes, it worked. And you are a hell of a match maker. I LOVE YOU. And I love him too."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a kiss on the side of my temple, "I’m sorry for failing our daughter. I got lost in my grief so much that I completely ignored what it was doing to her."

I shake my head, and hug Papa.

"Do you ever regret loving Mom?"

"Never. I got some of the most beautiful moments of my life from her. I got two beautiful girls. If time goes back, I’m picking for your mom again."

******