The day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer,my husband,Nathan Caldwell,a seasoned lawyer,was busy helping his first love,Emily Harper,with her divorce case. Somewhere along the way, their working relationship crossed the line into an intimate one. I told him I was dying.
He brushed it off,saying,“Stop being dramatic.” I snapped, “Well, Counselor, you might want to start preparing for your own divorce case.” He scoffed,eyeing me with disdain.“You?Leave me?You don’t have the guts to do that.” I shrugged.“Fine, I won’t divorce with you.Just get me a nice plot in the cemetery.” In our sixth year of marriage,I was diagnosed with late-stage cancer. I called Nathan.“Hey,you coming home tonight?I need to talk.”
His voice was filled with irritation. “I’m swamped with work. Can’t it wait?” I started to say “I’m sick—” but he hung up. I laughed bitterly. His“work”was helping Emily,his old flame,with her divorce.The case was nearly done.What was keeping him?
That night,I cooked a full spread but didn’t eat a bite. It all went in the trash. By midnight,he wasn’t home.My calls went unanswered. The doctor urged me to rest,so I didn’t wait up. The next morning,his side of the bed was untouched. No messages,no sign of him—it was like he’d vanished. He’d done this before,blaming late nights at the firm.I’d never questioned him. After freshening up and putting on some light makeup to hide my pallor, I brought a homemade breakfast to his law office. The receptionist panicked,trying to stop me. Ignoring her,I stormed into Nathan’s office. He wasn’t there. “Where’s Nathan?” “Uh…maybe ask him yourself,Mrs.Caldwell.” “What are you doing here?” Nathan’s voice came from behind,his brow furrowed,clearly annoyed. “You didn’t come home. I was worried you were overworking, so I brought breakfast.” “Nathan,I made this myself.” I didn’t ask where he’d been.I knew. He pushed the container away,expressionless.“I ate.Give it to Ethan,my assistant.He hasn’t.” Ethan, looking flustered, tried to decline but then stopped abruptly, frozen in place. I stared at Nathan, and he quickly backtracked.“Fine,I’ll eat it later.Go home.” I handed him the thermos.“Will you be back tonight—or anytime soon?” His impatience flared.“I’ll be back.” He brushed past me,disappearing into his office. Ethan’s cryptic look lingered as I left alone. In the car,pain surged through my body,but it paled in comparison to the ache in my chest. Nathan reeked of women’s perfume. I swallowed a few painkillers,gulping them down dry. The doctors gave me two months. Two months,and I’d be free of this pain. Previous Chapter