My Fake Tumor, My Wife's Real Affair

I stood outside Simone Inman's office door, listening closely to the phone conversation between her and her best friend, Mindy Fox.

I could barely breathe, and my whole body trembled uncontrollably. Not only did she believe that I had a brain tumor, but she was also disgusted and held nothing but disdain for me.

I almost pushed the door open and demanded to know why she was so cruel to me.

However, just then, she called her first love, Shawn Erskine, who was also her secretary. The gentle tone she used when speaking to him caused me to freeze.

She said, "Shawn, have you left yet? I'll come pick you up later. We'll go to that restaurant we love. Don't worry. I'm feeling much better now. You're the one who cares about me the most. You showed concern after hearing that I was in a car accident, unlike someone else who doesn't care at all.

"Oh, how I regret my choice back then."

I lowered my head and looked at the bone broth I had carefully simmered for hours. My heart sank with heavy disappointment.

Sure enough, I regretted it too.

When I saw her hang up, I hurried away. As I passed by the trash can downstairs, I threw the whole can of bone broth into it.

I hadn't gone far when I received a message from Simone.

She texted, "I'm in a meeting. I'll be home late."

I turned off my phone screen, feeling like a complete joke.

It had been pouring the entire way when I rushed over to Simone's office. In my rush to bring her the broth, I hadn't realized that half my body was drenched. As soon as I got home, I came down with a high fever.

After taking some medicine, I fell asleep on the couch until Simone's displeased voice woke me up.

She grumbled, "I called you so many times. Why didn't you answer? Is your phone just for decoration? Why are you so tardy every single time?"

I opened my eyes weakly and finally saw the missed calls notification flashing on my phone screen.

"My head hurts. So, I decided to sleep for a while," I said lethargically.

"Headaches are normal in your case," Simone blurted without thinking.

Suddenly, she seemed to realize she had a slip of tongue and hurriedly added, "It's because you keep overthinking everything. It's no wonder that your brain would hurt."

She probably thought this was the onslaught of my brain cancer symptoms.

Seeing that I said nothing, she nudged me to scoot over to one side of the couch to make room for her.

Then, she casually tugged at her collar as she spoke to me. "I had dinner with a client tonight and heard something that made a lot of sense. He had a friend whose husband was diagnosed with cancer.

"That friend gave up treatment because he didn't want his wife and family to be burdened in the future. Besides, there's no cure for cancer anyway."

I froze.

I had thought she didn't really mean the things she said to Mindy on the phone. Never had I expected that she was serious about it.

By reading between the lines, I understood that she didn't want me to live.

I managed to force out a bitter smile while saying, "I agree. When one person gets cancer, the whole family suffers."

A trace of excitement flashed through her eyes as she responded, "Really? You think so too?"

I nodded and thought, "Yeah. If you give up treatment, I'll save a huge amount of money."

Early the next morning, I called the hospital and calmly requested a long leave of absence. "I need to deal with some things that are going on at home lately."

On the other end of the line, Philip Urban hesitated for a moment before carefully asking, "Heath, you know about the results of your wife's medical examination, right? You're a doctor too. You should try convincing her to go to the hospital and undergo treatment."

My lips curled up into something that looked like a smile but wasn't really one.

I replied, "I already tried. She said cancer is incurable, so she won't have it treated."

Philip fell silent for a long time before sighing wearily. "I… I called her before and asked her to come to the hospital. She flew into a rage and said no one at home had cancer. Then, she also told me not to tell you and said you needed to rest. I don't understand what she meant..."

As I listened, a desolate feeling spread through my heart.

Unlike Philip, I understood exactly what she meant. Simone thought I had cancer and didn't want me to receive any treatment.

I almost laughed out loud, but the cackle caught in my throat and turned into a bitter grunt instead.

"If even the hospital can't convince her, what else can I do?" I said.

After hanging up, I started packing my things.

This place that I had lived in for eight years now felt unbelievably unfamiliar.

I didn't want any of this anymore—this home or Simone.