I’m Dying, But He’s Already Moved On

On the day of my wedding anniversary with Julian Whitmore, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer.

In the final stretch of life, waiting is truly agonizing.

Next time, later... Julian, this time, I don’t want to wait any longer.

We don’t have a later.

…

I stood on the street, holding the stomach cancer diagnosis report.

As cars rushed by, I dialed Julian’s number.

“Julian, come home for dinner tonight. You haven’t had a meal at home in a long time.”

On the other end of the line, I could hear glasses clinking.

“I can’t make it tonight. Maybe in a few days. I’ve been really busy these past few days.”

“Okay.”

After that, Julian hung up.

I stared at the slowly darkening screen of my phone, wrapped my coat tighter, and stood by the bus stop, waiting for the bus.

Today was our fifth wedding anniversary. At this point, it seemed like he’d forgotten.

Lost in thought, the bus pulled up in front of me.

Watching the hurried crowd getting on and off, I suddenly felt like I didn’t want to go home anymore.

I stood up and started walking aimlessly down the street. I had no idea how long I had walked, but when I looked up, I found myself in front of a beef noodle soup shop—the place Julian and I used to frequent when we first came to this city to build our lives.

Back then, we barely had any money.

We had so little that Julian would always buy just one meal, telling me he wasn’t hungry.

“Little lady, is that you?”

I snapped out of my thoughts as the shop owner stepped out, smiling at me.

Since it wasn’t mealtime, the shop was almost empty.

“One bowl of beef noodle soup, please.”

He nodded and quickly turned to cook the noodles.

He worked quickly, chatting with me while preparing the meal.

“Where’s that young man? Isn’t he with you?”

I lowered my head, my tears threatening to fall.

“He’s busy with work.”

The owner didn’t say anything more. Before long, the steaming bowl of noodles was placed in front of me.

I stared at the hot bowl of noodles, picked up a bite, and put it in my mouth.

I didn’t know if it was from the steam, but my tears started flowing uncontrollably.

After just two bites, my stomach began to ache.

I set down my chopsticks, thanked the owner, and left.

At home, Luna wagged her tail and jumped into my arms, knocking me slightly off balance.

She was the Samoyed Julian and I bought when we first settled in this city.

I stroked her, feeling a sharp pain in my stomach. Cold sweat dripped onto the floor.

Luna seemed to sense something was wrong and curled up quietly in my arms, not moving.

I stood up, dragging myself to the bed, and Luna followed, whimpering a few times.

Lying down, I tried to curl up, but the pain didn’t lessen. If anything, it made me feel nauseous.

I hurriedly got up and ran to the bathroom. Just as I reached it, a wave of nausea hit, and I vomited blood into the sink.

I remembered what the doctor had told me at the hospital.

There was a chance I could live a few more days if I underwent surgery. Without it, I’d only have two or three months at most.

I had always had stomach problems. I thought it was just the result of too many drinks over the years with Julian, but I never paid it much attention. Only recently, when I kept throwing up blood and couldn’t eat, did I decide to get checked.

After vomiting, I returned to the bed. The blanket was thick with Julian’s scent. I closed my eyes, and the tears flowed uncontrollably.

But I thought, it must be because of the pain.

Because Julian hadn’t been home in so long.

I took a painkiller, closed my eyes, and drifted into a heavy sleep.

I don’t know how long passed, but I suddenly felt someone holding me tightly.