Three Years of Marriage Ended In Failure

I pulled the diagnosis from the hospital out of my bag—lung cancer.

It felt absurd.

I had never considered myself a bad person, yet life seemed to have dealt me a cruel hand.

I fought back the urge to let my anger and despair spill over, wobbling unsteadily as I stood up and headed upstairs. But just a few steps up the staircase, my legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed.

When I came to, my arms and legs were bruised and aching.

Struggling, I managed to get back on my feet and stepped outside, hailing a cab to check on my injuries.

The ride was rough; I couldn't stop coughing. The driver glanced at me with concern. "Are you okay, miss?"

I took a deep breath, forcing a weak smile. "I'm fine, really."

Once at the hospital, I got in line to see the doctor for my injuries.

After a quick examination, he prescribed some medication and warned me to avoid water.

As I left, I spotted Marvin. What a coincidence.

I quickly turned my head, not wanting to see him—or his new girlfriend.

Another fit of coughing hit me, and I covered my mouth, feeling the warm trickle of blood on my hand. A stranger handed me a tissue, and I looked up at him gratefully.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he asked.

I shook my head weakly. "I'm fine."

He pressed further, "What about your family?"

I forced a wry smile.

My parents had passed away five years ago, along with Marvin's, in a tragic plane crash.

"They're gone," I said quietly.

"Wow, I'm sorry to hear that. But you really should get checked out; your cough looks pretty serious. It could be your lungs," he suggested, concern etched on his face.

I managed a faint smile. If there were even a glimmer of hope for healing, I wouldn't feel so utterly lost and hopeless.

"Marvin, I think I just saw Ms. Parker," I overheard someone say.

"Ha! How could she possibly be here? She's tougher than nails," Marvin replied, his voice as cold as ice.

His words pierced through me, and a wave of sadness washed over me. If I were gone, he'd be relieved.

I thought back to the times when he would move mountains to get me what I wanted, even if it was just a star in the sky.

Now, he seemed indifferent to my suffering, walking hand in hand with another woman.

Maybe he had wanted a divorce long before this.

"Do you know them?" the man asked.

I laughed bitterly, continuing to cover my mouth. "No, I don't."

Turning to leave, I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. Once, we had been a couple deeply in love; now, we were like strangers passing in the night.

After my parents died, we had become each other's only support. He had once firmly told me, "We'll get through this together. From now on, I'll be your rock."

But now? I was on the brink of death.

Stumbling out of the hospital, I ignored the curious stares from passersby, brushing aside Marvin's previous warnings. I ducked into a store and picked out a few bottles of wine, bringing them back home.

What does it matter anymore? I am dying—why should I care about restrictions?

I collapsed onto the couch, opened a bottle, and took deep swigs.

Maybe the alcohol would help me forget my longing for him, if only for a little while.

My phone rang, jolting me from my thoughts. I glanced at the caller ID—it was him.

I shot up, tears streaming down my face like a waterfall.

After all these days of holding back my feelings and resisting the urge to call him, he was reaching out. I thought maybe Marvin still cared.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself before answering the phone.

His voice, however, was cold as ice. "Your trophy's still at my place. If you don't want it, I can dispose of it for you."

His words felt like a sharp dagger piercing right through my heart.

"Could you send it to me, please?" I managed to say calmly.

So, that was the reason for his call. How much did he loathe me that he couldn't even tolerate a trophy?

He let out a sardonic laugh. "I'm busy; I don't have the time."

"There are plenty of maids at the house. Could you ask one…"

"Come get it yourself."

Thus, our disheartening conversation came to an end.