After Divorcing My Unfaithful Husband, I Became Stronger!

I slumped against the door, tears streaming silently as I sank to the floor, feeling utterly defeated. The acrid smell of smoke from the living room seeped through the door crack, making me cough uncontrollably. I had always been highly sensitive to cigarette smoke and had begged Jeremiah countless times not to smoke indoors, but he never listened. He’d always brush me off with, “I’ve smoked for years and my lungs are fine. You’re just too sensitive.”

He didn’t realize that while his lungs might be fine, I was suffering from the effects of secondhand smoke. Just a month ago, I was diagnosed with advanced lung cancer, but I kept it from him to avoid causing him worry. Every time I coughed in his presence, he dismissed it as me being overly dramatic. Tonight, I reached my breaking point. I flung open the door and yelled at him, “Smoking, smoking, smoking—why don’t you just smoke yourself to death? If you want to smoke, go outside!”

I grabbed the table lamp from the bedside and threw it at him before slamming the bedroom door shut. As I collapsed onto the bed, I heard him cursing and slamming the door before storming out. Tears continued to fall, mingling with the harsh coughing fits. I pulled out a tissue to cover my mouth and, with shaking hands, turned on the light. When I looked at the tissue, it was stained with blood.

The doctor had told me I had only a few months left and advised me to make the most of my remaining time. I had initially thought I could just ignore Monica and stick it out with Jeremiah until the end, but now it seemed impossible. It wasn’t that I couldn’t wait, but rather that they couldn’t. Looking back at how Jeremiah and I met and fell in love, there wasn’t any grand, heroic story—no earth-shattering drama. He simply needed someone to comfort him after a breakup and I, who had secretly been in love with him for years, took advantage of that chance.

I was the one who pursued him and treated him like a king for years before he finally agreed to marry me. Monica was his childhood sweetheart and the dream girl he could never have because his parents disapproved of her; she was a socialite in college. They, however, were very fond of me, a girl with an ordinary but respectable background.

Throughout our years together, despite any gratitude or flaws in his character, Jeremiah was generally good to me. He would buy me whatever I wanted with just a word and even gave me a black card to use as I pleased. For ten years, we lived a relatively peaceful life. The house was filled with laughter, the kind that had once come easily and life felt predictable in its simplicity. But predictability can be a double-edged sword.

About three years ago, when Monica returned from studying abroad, everything changed. She reached out to Jeremiah and their relationship quickly reignited. At first, their meetings were discreet and I made a fuss a few times when I caught wind of it. But as they began seeing each other more frequently, I felt physically and emotionally drained. I had hoped that Jeremiah would eventually lose interest and come back to me, as men often do with new relationships, but I was mistaken.

I was no longer the center of his world and it hurt more than I wanted to admit. The day I realized I was becoming obsolete, I took a sick day from work, hoping rest would ease my persistent cough. I spent the day lying in bed, struggling with the constant discomfort and dread of what was to come. My mind replayed Jeremiah’s increasingly frequent absences, each one a silent reminder of how I was being pushed to the periphery.

The next day, I reluctantly went to the hospital for a prescription of strong cough medicine. I had been coughing persistently at night, which was affecting my sleep. The hospital visit felt like a mundane routine in the midst of my chaotic life. When I left the hospital, it was already dark. Just as I was about to take a taxi home, my phone buzzed. It was Jeremiah.

After hesitating, I answered. His voice on the other end was odd. “Joanna, what are you trying to do? You’re avoiding me over something minor and secretly sleeping with another man!” The accusation hit me like a thunderclap.

I was shocked. “What are you talking about? What do you mean, sleeping with another man?”

The accusations were absurd. “Jeremiah, are you serious? You’re accusing me of cheating when you’ve been spending all your time with Monica? I’m not seeing anyone else. I’ve been sick and all I’ve done is try to keep myself together.”