She Faked Cancer to Run With Her Lover,Then Her Mother Gave Me Everything

My wife said she had to work late.

With nothing else to do, I lay in bed scrolling through videos—until I stumbled across one posted just ten minutes ago by a guy who'd been a year below me in college.

"My goddess of a senior wants to take me on a trip abroad, but she's worried her husband and his family will get suspicious."

"Help us out here, people. We need ideas."

I tapped into the comments.

Plenty of helpful suggestions, as it turned out.

The top-voted comment recommended that his "goddess" fake a cancer diagnosis, then ask for a divorce. After that, she could claim she was going abroad for treatment—alone. Her husband would stay home to take care of things. Once she'd had her fun, she could come back whenever she felt like it.

I shook my head with a wry smile and swiped away.

At three in the morning, my wife came home from work looking exhausted. Her face was pale, her voice hollow. "Honey, the company did health screenings today. They found breast cancer. Late-stage."

"I don't want to drag you down. Let's get a divorce."

——

I stared at Patricia Gilbert for a long time.

What she'd just said—

Why did it sound exactly like that top comment on the video?

Could it be...

Was she the "senior goddess" that guy was talking about?

I immediately dismissed the thought.

Ever since we got married, Patricia had been a good wife—beautiful and kind-hearted.

There was no way she'd cheat on me.

I was overthinking this.

I took a deep breath and pulled her into my arms.

"Honey, we're husband and wife. We made vows. For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health—we promised to stay by each other's side, no matter what."

"I don't care what illness you have. I'd die before I leave you."

Patricia shoved me away.

"Luther Chavez, can you just accept reality?"

"I have cancer! Late-stage cancer!"

"I don't have much time left."

"Just think of this as granting my final wish."

"Please?"

Tears streamed down her face. Watching her cry made my heart ache.

Under these circumstances—

Of course I wasn't going to argue with her. Instead, I pulled her back into my arms, my voice thick. "Honey, tell me. What do you want me to do?"

"Whatever it is, I'll do it. No questions asked."

Patricia stopped sobbing. She lifted her head, cupped my face in her hands, and said softly, her eyes red-rimmed, "Honey, I wasn't actually working late tonight."

"Then why did you come home so late?"

"I went to see a friend's younger brother. He went to the same school as us—he's a junior there now. He told me about a new laser therapy abroad that can eliminate 99.99% of cancer cells in a patient's body."

"I didn't know if it was real, so I went to ask him about it in person."

The moment I heard "junior"—

It made me even more suspicious that the "goddess senior" in that video was her.

Almost certainly her.

But I didn't call her out. Didn't confront her.

Instead, I played along. "So what did he say?"

"He said the treatment is real, but it's expensive. I want to use the money in our joint account to pay for it. Even if there's just the tiniest chance, I don't want to give up."

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

"Of course I will."

I nodded, then kissed her gently on the forehead. "I'll drop everything and go abroad with you for treatment."

"If it's about money, I'll sell everything we own. I'd sell a kidney if I had to."

The moment she heard that, Patricia took two steps back.

"You don't know your way around over there. Besides, the junior is coming with me. You stay here and look after my parents."