Betrayed Before the Wedding, My Ex-Husband Regrets My Departure

The premarital checkup found breast cancer.

"Just get it removed. It's not like I'd hold it against you."

"Naomi went out of her way to request this surgery for you. She's been interning in oncology for a whole year—getting a chance to scrub in wasn't easy."

And just like that, whatever warmth I'd felt died.

So that was it. He'd been pushing the mastectomy so his childhood sweetheart could use me for practice.

I swallowed against the wreckage in my chest and shook my head again. "No… it's fine."

"But Naomi needs this surgery!"

The words I'd bitten back scraped raw against my throat. I stared at the man in front of me, unable to believe what I'd just heard.

Leonard seemed to realize how harsh that sounded. He softened his tone, reluctantly:

"Something's broken, you cut it off. And if it bothers you that much… get an implant later."

"Constance, just do as you're told. If you won't have the surgery, how are we supposed to get married?"

Then we don't.

He didn't know I'd already booked a flight overseas.

Someone I'd grown up with happened to be one of the world's top oncology experts.

——

When I didn't answer, Leonard caught my hand during a red light and tried again.

"Would I ever hurt you?"

"Naomi already walked me through the risks. If you don't get this surgery soon, it could be life-threatening."

"Who do you think all of this is for?"

The more he talked, the more frantic he looked.

I pulled my hand free, cold and sharp. "Leonard, stop treating me like an idiot."

"You know exactly who this is for."

The air inside the car dropped several degrees.

Leonard's jaw tightened. He turned and glared at me. "There you go again—throwing a jealous fit over Naomi, is that it?"

"I've told you a hundred times. There is nothing dirty between me and Naomi—that's all in your head!"

"If that's really how you think, then maybe this wedding isn't worth having."

Every single time I brought up Naomi, Leonard wielded the wedding like a threat.

Every single time it involved Naomi, I was the one overthinking, the one being petty.

"Fine. Then let's not."

The car braked hard and swerved to the curb.

Leonard hadn't expected me to call his bluff. Disbelief flickered through his eyes.

"Constance, don't act like you can't tell who's trying to help you."

"Do you have any idea how long Naomi fought the hospital to get assigned to your surgery? Do you have any idea how many trips I've made to that hospital for your sake?"

I let out a quiet, icy laugh. "How exhausting for the both of you."

"But I've said it. I'm not having this surgery."

"Family or doctor, either way, you're supposed to respect the patient's own wishes, aren't you?"

A full month had passed since the premarital exam came back with a cancer diagnosis.

In that month, Leonard had indeed been running back and forth to the hospital.

But not for my condition. He'd been picking up Naomi and driving her home.

Eight years together, and Leonard had never once picked me up from work. He didn't even know which direction my office entrance faced.

Naomi had been back for six months, and he was already a regular at the hospital.

"Constance, this isn't up to you."

"I've already got your admission arranged. And when the time comes, I'll sign the consent form myself—as your spouse."

"This surgery matters for you and for Naomi."

It didn't matter for me.

It mattered for Naomi.

Everyone knew that in the six months since her return, Naomi had botched one procedure after another and was on the verge of being let go.

She needed my surgery to save her reputation.

"I won't—"

A sharp ringtone cut me off. The screen lit up with the name *Naomi*, trailed by a little heart emoji.