He Faked Cancer to Run Away With His Mistress,So His Father Gave Me the Fortune

My husband said he was working late.

With nothing else to do, I lay in bed scrolling through videos—until I stumbled across one posted ten minutes ago by a girl I vaguely recognized. A junior from my college days.

"My senior crush wants to take me abroad, but he's worried his wife and family will get suspicious."

"Help us brainstorm, internet heroes!"

I tapped into the comments.

Plenty of enthusiastic advisors, apparently.

The top-voted suggestion? Her "senior crush" should fake a cancer diagnosis, then demand a divorce. Afterward, he could claim he was going overseas for treatment alone—his wife would stay behind to look after things. Once he'd had his fun, he could waltz back home.

I let out a weary laugh and swiped away.

At three in the morning, my husband dragged himself through the door, exhaustion carved into every line of his face. He looked hollow. Lost.

"Honey," he said, voice barely above a whisper. "The company made everyone do physicals today. They found something."

A pause. His throat worked.

"Liver cancer. Late stage."

My heart stopped.

"I don't want to be a burden to you," he continued. "Let's get divorced."

1.

I stared at Corey Henson for what felt like an eternity.

Those words.

Why did they sound exactly like that top comment on the junior's video?

Could it be—

Was he the "senior crush" she'd been talking about?

I crushed the thought immediately.

From the day we married until now, Corey had always been the perfect husband—handsome, principled, devoted. How could he possibly be cheating on me?

I was overthinking. I had to be.

Drawing a deep breath, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him.

"Corey, we're husband and wife. We made vows. In sickness and in health, for richer or poorer—we swore we'd never leave each other's side."

"I don't care what illness you have. I will never leave you. Not even if it kills me."

Corey shoved me away.

"Ann Gilbert, can you just accept reality?"

"I have cancer. Terminal cancer!"

"I don't have much time left."

"Just—" His voice cracked. "Consider it my dying wish. Please?"

Tears streamed down his face, and every sob tore at my heart.

Under circumstances like these?

Of course I wouldn't argue with him. Instead, I pulled him close again, my own voice thick with unshed tears. "Tell me what you need, Corey. Whatever it is—whatever you want me to do—I'll do it. No questions asked."

Corey wiped his eyes. Lifted his head. Cupped my face in his hands, his gaze red-rimmed and tender.

"Honey… I wasn't actually working late tonight."

"Then where were you?"

"I went to see someone. A friend's sister—she went to our university, so technically she's our junior. She told me about this new laser treatment overseas. Supposedly it can eliminate 99.99% of cancer cells."

"I didn't know if it was real, so I met with her in person to find out."

Junior.

That word again.

The suspicion I'd tried to bury clawed its way back up. The "senior crush" in that video—it had to be him. It had to be.

But I didn't confront him. Didn't demand answers.

Instead, I played along. "And? What did she say?"

"She confirmed it's real. The treatment exists—it's just expensive. So I was thinking… I could use the money in our joint account to pay for it." He gripped my hands, desperation flickering in his eyes. "Even if there's only the smallest chance, I don't want to give up."

"You'll support me, won't you?"

"Yes." I nodded without hesitation, then leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Of course I will. I'll drop everything and go with you—wherever this treatment is. And if it's about money, I'll sell everything we own. I'd sell a kidney if that's what it takes."

The moment the words left my mouth, Corey stepped back. Two full paces.

"You don't know your way around overseas," he said quickly. "Besides, my junior already offered to go with me. You should stay here and look after my parents."