I’m Dying

1: I’m Dying

Day 1/365 Days

VICKY

"Your heart is very weak, and despite treatment, we’re afraid you may only have about 365 days left."

These were the words that made my world stop. What was I going to do now? My husband wouldn't take this news well...Williams wouldn't take this news well.

William Jake, the man I married right after high school. My first love. My everything. For eight years, he had been my protector, my best friend, my person. He wasn't perfect, but he tried. He brought me breakfast in bed after long shifts, left sweet notes, and held me like I was all that mattered in the world. We dreamed together. We struggled together. We built this life brick by brick, hand in hand. But that all that had changed and I don’t know why.

About two years ago, something in him shut down. Slowly at first. He stopped answering my texts. He barely touched me anymore. Then came the silence. The cold stares. The yelling when I made even a small mistake. The nights he didn't come home. I blamed work stress. Told myself he just needed space. But that space turned into a canyon. And eventually, the man I loved became a stranger living in my house.

Today was our ten-year wedding anniversary. And this was the gift I got?

Heart failure.

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I sat on the floor of our bedroom, staring at the doctor's report. My husband would be home any minute. The anniversary cake I picked up from the bakery sat in front of me. I picked up my phone and dialed my sister's number. She was the only person I needed right then. 

Valerie and I were orphans, and she had been my support system ever since we were kids. They say twins fight, but we never did. She was my other half.

"Hey, Mrs. Jake... Happy Anniversary. So where's the party at?" my sister's voice echoed from the other end of the phone.

I couldn't find the right words. How could I tell Valerie, her only family, her twin sister, had just 365 days left on this earth. How on earth would she survive that?

"There's no party..." I sniffled through my tears.

"Vicky, are you okay? Why are you crying? What's wrong?"

I could hear the fear in her voice. I summoned the courage and spoke.

"I have congestive heart failure."

The words left my mouth, and there was dead silence.

"Valerie? Are you there?"

"You have what? Congestive heart failure? What do you mean?" she stammered.

Tears streamed down my cheeks. I sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

"That's not possible! You're healthy! There's no way..."

"I don't know what to do... I don't want to die, Val. I don't know..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I was choking on my own tears. It was finally dawning on me that I was going to die.

"You won't die... You can't die. I'm on my way to your house. Don't go anywhere. This can't be real," Valerie sobbed, and the line went dead.

I heard screeching tires and I knew Williams was home. I immediately wiped my tears and shoved the doctor's report under our bed. I rushed downstairs to welcome him. This morning, he'd left the house without saying a word. It had been like that for days, the silent treatment.

It felt like I was the only one still holding on to the last thread of our marriage.

And it wasn't just silence anymore.

Lately, Williams had become abusive, physically and emotionally. My husband was hurting me, yet somehow I kept holding on. Because I loved him. Because I believed he would go back to being the sweet man I married. 

I heard the front door open. He was inside our home now. I composed myself and ran outside to greet him.

"Honey... you're back."

Silence. He didn't respond.

"Let me help you with that," I rushed to take the suitcase from his hand, even though he'd already walked past me, acting like he didn't see the woman he was supposed to be celebrating ten years of marriage with.

"Williams... how was work?" I tried to make small talk. 

"What are you doing here?" he snapped.

"What do you mean, what am I doing here? This is our house..." I chuckled bitterly.

"Don't play dumb. You're supposed to be at work. Shouldn’t you be off cleaning today?"

He was right. I worked for the Rogers family by cleaning their sons’ penthouses. Today I was scheduled to clean for Rue Rogers, but he was out of town, so I took the day off. After all, it was our anniversary.

"Mr. Rue's out of town, so I thought I'd take the day off. It's our anniversary today. Did you forget?" I asked, and he sighed. This time he turned to me, finally facing me.

"Anniversary?" He asked like he had no clue what I was talking about. 

"Our ten-year wedding anniversary. How can you forget?” 

"And so what? What's so special about that?"

"It's not just any anniversary... We've been married for ten years. That's a decade. It deserves a celebration,” I explained. “Come, there's cake upstairs," I said, grabbing his wrist to lead him to our bedroom.

He pushed me away.

"Will..."

"Are you mad? I don’t want your stupid cake,” he yelled. “Vicky... are you slowly going crazy, or are you already there? Anniversary? What the hell are we celebrating? Ten years? What's the proof we're even married? No kids... just your stupid, annoying self taking up space in my house!"

"It's our house... We built it together. And you know how much I love kids..."

"You love kids? But you can't even give birth to one? You're delusional. Built this house? With me? You're losing your damn mind!" Williams yelled.

I just stood there. It was easy for the tears to come. I was already broken. I couldn't hide it anymore.

"Why? Why can't you just pretend … even for one day? Why can't you pretend to love me? Why couldn't you put on a show today of all days to make me happy?" I screamed, sobbing uncontrollably.

Williams stormed down the stairs and grabbed my arms.

"Why are you crying, you crazy woman? I'm the one stuck in this marriage with some orphaned, useless, barren woman! I'm the one stuck with you, so if anyone should be crying, it's me!"

"Williams... please, let's not do this. Not today..."

He didn't respond. He left me downstairs and went up to our room. I followed him.

I had done a bit of decorating to the bedroom. There were balloons and ribbons. I even got him a gift that emptied my bank account, a Rolex watch.

Even though the day had started badly, I hoped this would fix it.

"Oh, more drama..." Williams scoffed, shoving the decorations out of his way.

"I did this in a hurry..." I said, sniffling.

"You shouldn't have. Clean this mess up. I need to sleep."

"What about the cake? It's your favorite flavor," I said, picking up the bento cake. It was inscribed with ‘Many More 10 Years Added’. I asked the lady at the bakery to write it, and she'd gushed about how lucky we were. Now here I was.

"Here... have some."

"Vicky! Get the fuck out of my face!" Williams shouted, shoving me again. 

I stumbled and hit the wooden table, hitting my head on the sharp edges. My nose started bleeding.

"Goddamnit! This is why I hate you! You're so weak and stupid. Clean up this mess, and if I see a single blood stain on my wall, you're dead this time."

This was it. The moment I realized he didn't care at all.

I cried. Quietly. The kind of tears that burn, but you don't make a sound, just to avoid angering him more. And then the words escaped my mouth.

"I have congestive heart failure... I'm dying, Williams..."