Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

GRACE'S POV 

April 12, 2023.

4:16pm

I'd always heard that betrayal hurts, that it was brutal, but I never thought I'd be experiencing one. Especially not when it was my best friend and my husband in our bed. 

My gasp drew their attention and they looked my way. Susan gaped, eyes wide, skin pale and flushed at the same time. 

They were under the sheets, tangled up in their limbs. There was no denying what was happening at that moment. 

If I thought my heart was hurt by cracking, my heart shattered. I saw red, and my head ached in a way that made me cradle my forehead. 

“Grace…” Susan started, but I stopped her by raising my hand. The last thing I wanted to hear was what she had to say. 

“How long has this been going on?” I asked both of them, my voice cracking. 

Susan glances at Michael whose attention was on me. He didn't look remorseful or whatever, he had a blank expression on his face, not saying anything.

“A few months.” Susan replied, getting out of the bed and struggling to get dressed. “I'm really sorry, Grace. I didn't want you to find out this way.” She added, as if that was going to make everything better. 

Silence ensued the entire room as Susan quickly put on her dress, and before we knew it, she was gone.

The door closed behind her, leaving the house impossibly quiet. The weight of the betrayal pressed into my chest, settling over me like a thick, heavy fog. It was choking. 

Michael stood near the bed, dressed in only a pair of shorts, as if nothing had happened, as if this day had been ordinary. But the world had shifted. Everything I had trusted, everyone I had loved, all of it had fractured in the span of an hour. How could that happen to me?

“Why did you come back so early?” he asked, his voice low, casual. 

I looked at him. My heart pounded so hard I thought he might hear it over the quiet hum of the ceiling fan.

“That’s not even half of the problem here,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m dying and you're out here cheating with my best friend?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re trying to manipulate me now.”

“I’m not!” I said. “I’m telling you because you need to know, because it’s my life and my body! And you just shredded my heart like it meant nothing. I have gastric cancer for goodness’ sake.”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “You always make everything about you. Everything has to be about you. You’re dramatic.”

I took a shaky breath. “I came home early today, found your car and thought that maybe we could talk. I thought maybe things could become… better. That there was still something between us.”

“There’s nothing left,” he said flatly. His face hardened. 

I was tired, mentally, physically, emotionally, I was tired. If this is what it had gotten to, I couldn't handle it anymore. 

I felt my chest tighten. “Then leave.”

He paused, his expression hardening more. “You don’t get to tell me to leave my own house. Who do you think you are?”

“I’m not telling you to leave. I’m letting you go.”

He stepped closer. Too close.

“You’ve ruined my life,” he said. His voice had shifted from just irritation to something darker, something cold.

“I’m dying, Michael,” I whispered. Perhaps, he'd finally listen if I didn't yell at him. 

For a moment, his anger faltered, then it returned in full force.

He grabbed my arms really hard. The pain shot through my shoulders, sharp and immediate. Then, I became scared. I stared at him in utter shock. 

“Stop saying that!” he yelled, shaking me.

I'd never seen him this pissed off. 

“You’re hurting me!” I cried.

“Then stop lying!”

“I’m not lying!”

I struggled, trying to free myself. My body was weak, my muscles lost their strength, but I fought.

He shoved me extremely hard. So hard that I gasped before it happened. 

I stumbled backward and my foot caught on the edge of the rug, nothing much.

The edge of the coffee table met the back of my heart. 

I felt it before I heard it. My body landed on the rug with a thud. Then warmth spread beneath me. I prayed to God that something spilled. 

Michael stepped back, his anger giving way to panic. “Grace?”

I tried to speak, but nothing came out. My lips moved, but no sound escaped. It was like I suddenly became paralysed. 

The pain in my stomach faded. The exhaustion that had plagued me for months faded. For the first time, everything quietened down.

My vision blurred, the edges of the room softening. My entire life flashed in front of my eyes, memories appearing again before disappearing. 

His voice sounded so distant. “Grace, get up. Please, talk to me.”

I tried to move, I tried to reach for him, but my body no longer obeyed. It was no longer working. 

Fear rose briefly, sharp and sudden. Then it disappeared. 

I thought of Susan, of the betrayal, of the months of distance, the endless quiet mornings, the nights filled with ache and loneliness. I thought of my cancer, of the treatments I had yet to begin, of the life I had imagined for myself.

I had no control anymore. I had no fight left.

Michael’s voice grew more urgent, echoing across the room. “Grace! Don’t leave me like this!” Was that concern in his voice?

The light in the room faded at the edges. My thoughts slowed, as though each second stretched into eternity. Pain and fear melted into a strange kind of peace.

I thought of the office, of Ethan’s concern, of Susan’s laughter and betrayal.

I thought of myself, of the person I had been before cancer.

Then, I thought of nothing.

The room tilted. Shadows moved at the edges of my vision.

The sound of Michael's plea drifted away.

Softly and slowly, the darkness swallowed me.

And then there was nothing.