Divorcing After a Terminal Cancer Diagnosis

Ethan Chancer opened his backpack and shoved the medical report inside without any care. He did not even zip it up before slinging the bag over his shoulder and heading toward the elevator. Half of the report was still sticking out.

He took the elevator down to the first floor and walked through the crowd of patients and their families.

The hospital air-conditioning was so cold it seemed to seep straight into his bones. With the air conditioning blasting this hard, the hospital must be doing pretty well. Clearly, they were not worried about the electric bill.

The moment he stepped out of the freezing hospital, scorching heat wrapped around him like a thick winter coat, leaving him with a faint sense of suffocation.

He drifted out of the hospital like a walking corpse, crossed the street, and vaguely heard a driver cursing at him.

“If you want to die, go jump off a building!”

Ethan did not want to jump off a building.

He barely heard what the driver said.

The doctor’s words were still echoing in his mind.

Advanced lung cancer.

Six months at most.

The street was packed with people. Cars streamed past one after another. Everything around him was loud, busy, and alive.

And yet, six months from now, he would have to say goodbye to this world forever.

It was about a mile and a half from the hospital to his home. Not exactly far, but not close either. There was no direct bus, and Ethan was so used to saving money that he could not bring himself to take a cab.

So he walked.

After more than ten minutes, he had not even covered half the distance before his chest began to feel tight and his heart started racing.

He did not know whether it was all in his head, whether he was scaring himself, or whether years of late nights and overtime had worn his body down that badly.

Maplewood Park was right by the road, with rows of wooden benches inside.

He sat down on one of the roadside benches and took a deep breath. The pressure in his chest eased a little.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.”

A crisp ringtone rang out.

It was not Ethan’s phone.

The ringtone kept going.

On the bench, the screen of a brand-new iPhone lit up with an incoming call.

Ethan looked around. The nearest person was more than thirty feet away and did not look like the owner.

Someone had lost their phone.

He picked it up and tapped answer.

It was a video call. A woman’s face appeared on the screen. She had no filter on, and her nostrils looked a little too large from the angle.

“Listen carefully,” the woman snapped. “This phone has GPS tracking. Wherever you go, we’ll know. I’ve already recorded your face, so don’t even think about getting lucky. Bring my phone back right now. It cost fifteen hundred dollars. Stealing something worth two hundred dollars is already enough to land you in jail.”

Ethan was stunned.

“Stealing? What stealing?”

“Still playing dumb?” the woman said. “Do you want me to call the police right now?”

Only then did Ethan understand.

This woman had mistaken him for a thief.

“I didn’t steal your phone. You dropped it here. Come get it,” Ethan said. “I’m on the bench by the park entrance. I’m not busy, so I can wait for you.”

When she mentioned calling the police, his instinct was to avoid trouble, so he explained patiently.

After all, anyone would panic after losing something worth more than a thousand. Saying the wrong thing in the heat of the moment was understandable.

“I dropped my phone? Do you think I’m stupid? Bring it to me right now, and don’t try to make any demands. Let me remind you again. I’ve already recorded your face.”

Why were there so many idiots in the world?

Ethan frowned.

After thinking for a moment, he decided to keep explaining and clear up the misunderstanding.

Just as he was about to speak, a man’s face appeared beside the woman on the screen.

The most noticeable thing about him was his earrings.

The man with the earrings said, “Listen to me, you piece of trash. I gave that phone to my girlfriend. I’m giving you one last chance. If you don’t bring it back to me, you can wait to rot in jail.”

Go to hell.

Ethan finally snapped.

He had no interest in wasting another second with this bizarre couple. His mood was already at rock bottom, and after being accused of stealing, he completely lost control.

He looked at the cars rushing past on the road.

Then he swung his arm.

The phone traced an arc through the air and landed in the middle of the street.

A car drove over it and crushed it beneath its tires.

Ethan did not know whether it felt good for that bizarre couple to have their faces run over by a tire, but he knew it felt good to him.

Before long, more than twenty cars had driven past. The phone was probably ruined.

At the traffic light up ahead, cars began stopping one by one.

Ethan crossed the street again and glanced at the phone on the ground as he passed.

It had been crushed into a pile of scrap. Apparently, the quality was not that great. At the very least, its pressure resistance was average.

Ethan’s mood improved a little.

He suddenly understood why people threw and smashed things when they were upset.

He decided he should smash more things from now on. That way, other people could suffer while he enjoyed himself.

Screw it.

Screw all of it.

I’ll do whatever makes me happy.

Ethan laughed, but there was nothing happy about it.

He looked at all the living, breathing faces on the street and thought back on his short life. All he wanted to do was laugh.

Laugh at this ridiculous life.

He had built a home in the city, yet it had never felt like home.

To this glittering, crowded metropolis, he had always been more like a passing visitor.

He was a small-town boy who had married above his station, the kind of person city folks mocked behind his back.

Twenty-seven years ago, he was born in a small town surrounded by mountains. From the time he was a child, he had always been the obedient, well-behaved kid—weak, timid, afraid of teachers, afraid of classmates, afraid of his parents, and afraid of getting bad grades.

Afraid of everything.

He was nothing special. Not brilliant. Not stupid either.

Because he was so timid, he did not even dare to cause trouble after starting school. He spent every day sitting in the classroom and studying.

Hard work made up for his lack of talent.

Cowardice made him diligent.

By spending several times more hours studying than everyone else, he got into a top university, proving the truth of that famous saying.

There’s no such thing as genius. I simply used the time other people spent drinking coffee to work.

After graduation, the name of his university helped him land a good job.

At work, he was careful, dedicated, and constantly walking on eggshells. The company was not bad. It did not take advantage of him just because he was easy to push around. It even gave him several raises.

Of course, he also worked far more overtime.

Through someone’s introduction, he met his current wife. Somehow, in a daze, they got married.

He had his own “home.”

His wife was a city native and looked down on him. She believed she had married beneath her, even though Ethan earned far more than she did.

After marriage, he gained a wife.

He also gained a new name.

“Loser.”

That was his wife’s special nickname for him.

He never argued against it, because she could easily find a hundred examples to prove that the name was well-earned.

He had lived twenty-seven years for his parents, for his wife, and for his boss.

Never for himself.

As a child, he lived for grades.

As an adult, he lived for performance reviews.

He had never once lived for life itself.

Now he had six months left.

This time, he was going to live for himself.