Chapter Two. Confirm Her Doubt 

Sarah’s POV

Maybe it was the sadness in my heart. Maybe it was because I had just heard the worst-case scenario about my heart condition—that was why I wasn’t thinking straight. Because it couldn’t be Abraham.

Or… could it?

The same Abraham who had stood by me for ten solid years and counting? The man I had never caught with another woman, not even once?

Just thinking about it felt disrespectful to him. Even entertaining the thought of infidelity felt like betrayal on my part. Perhaps I had misheard. Perhaps all I needed to do was ask him who he was talking to and put my mind at rest.

“Who is that, babe?” I asked, stepping out of the doorway and making myself visible.

He turned to look at me. His expression wasn’t panicked. There was no trace of guilt or alarm on his face. In fact, his lips widened slightly into a calm, easy smile.

“It’s work. They want me to come back. But I said no,” he answered, casually.

I nodded. “Thank you for staying back with me, love. The food will be ready in a bit,” I said gently.

As I turned toward the kitchen, I heard his footsteps heading up the stairs. He was going to our room.

***

About thirty minutes later, the food was ready. I was too tired to climb the stairs, so I picked up my phone and called his line.

Not that I couldn’t go up to get him. I just didn’t have the strength. But I needed him to eat first before I told him what the doctor said.

He came downstairs in less than a minute, now dressed in casual clothes. He kissed my forehead as he arrived at the dining table.

He sat at the edge of the table in his usual spot—the same seat that silently declared his place as the head of the house.

I smiled at him and began to dish his food. And just then, as though on cue, Cynthia walked in from school.

They had closed early today because of a spelling bee competition happening next week. The students had been advised to study hard. Most kids stayed back in the school library, but Cynthia always came home—to be near me.

She would study in her room, she knew that if she was close by, it was easier for her to help me breathe or get some fresh air in case my episode happened.

“Hmm... yummy,” she said excitedly as she closed the door behind her.

Abraham’s favorite meal was hers too. Like father, like daughter, right? I simply smiled as she joined us at the table, and I served her as well.

After we finished eating, I let out a deep sigh and reached for both of their hands.

“I need to tell you both something.”

My throat felt tight. But they deserved the truth.

“I’m dying,” I said. My voice barely audible, sad.

“The doctor said the condition has worsened. My life is at risk.”

“No, Mum!” Cynthia snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief. It was as if she could argue the diagnosis, as if her sheer willpower could rewrite what the doctor said.

“You are not dying,” she added, firm and fierce. Her words felt like they pulled me back from a pit. Her strength gave me a reason to be strong.

Abraham didn’t say anything immediately. He looked frozen. For a second, I thought he smiled, but he quickly adjusted his face, shifting into something dazed and unreadable. Still, I wasn’t a child. I knew what I saw at first.

But I brushed it aside. It was silly to think Abraham would smile after hearing something so painful. I must have been mistaken. Right?

They now knew the truth. We were all quiet, carrying the heaviness of the news. But we reached a small resolution—maybe I could still survive. I had already done ten years. Maybe I could do more.

As long as I didn’t miss my medication. Not even for one day.

After dinner, Cynthia cleared the plates and went up to her room. Abraham and I also went upstairs.

I entered the bathroom in our ensuite to take a quick shower. I had sweated a lot while cooking, and I needed to freshen up before taking my medication.

But just as I turned on the shower, I heard footsteps. Then, the faint sound of whispering. Abraham’s voice.

The water drowned most of it, so I immediately lowered the stream.

Why was he whispering again?

That wasn’t like him. Was something wrong with business that he didn’t want me to know? Why was he tiptoeing through calls like he was hiding something?

I let the water drip slowly and strained to hear.

“She’s dying. Maybe we can finally be…”

I didn’t hear the last word. I wasn’t sure why. But in my heart, I felt like I already knew what he was going to say. Even though I tried to convince myself otherwise, my instinct refused to let go of the word I feared most: together.

“Babe!” I called out immediately.

I needed to know who he was talking to. I needed to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me. But he didn’t answer.

I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around myself. Then I walked out and checked the hallway.

He wasn’t there.

“Babe!” I called again as I descended the stairs.

Then I saw him.

He wasn’t inside the house. He was outside on the balcony. The glass sliding door separated him from the interior.

I stood still, watching him through the door. His phone was at his ear. He was smiling. Laughing. His hand brushed the flowers along the balcony rim.

I recognized this behavior. This was exactly how he had described his phone calls with me when we first fell in love—how he unconsciously touched things and laughed when speaking to me.

Could it really be happening?

Could he be talking to another woman? Could he really be cheating?

I resolved immediately—if he was cheating, there was only one way to find out.

I climbed back upstairs and took my shower, just like I planned. I took my medication just like I wanted. Then I dressed in my casual sweater, baggy pants, and socks to help with the cold.

I descended the stairs again, this time heading to Cynthia’s room. She was studying.

“Can I stay with you for a while?” I asked.

She looked up, confused. She knew how much I loved being around Abraham when he was home. And he was clearly home. So why was I choosing her room?

“Sure, Mum,” she replied anyway.

“Thank you.” I walked to her desk, kissed her forehead, then quietly lay down on her bed.

I closed my eyes. Not because I wanted to sleep. But because I needed distance. Space. Time.

Eventually, I drifted off. When I woke up, it was 11 p.m. Cynthia was fast asleep beside me.

I had given Abraham all the time he needed to finish whatever secret conversation he was having. Now it was my turn.

I left Cynthia’s room silently and climbed upstairs with purpose. I wasn’t usually like this. But tonight, something had changed in me.

When I entered our room, Abraham was snoring, just as I expected.

I walked to his side of the bed and gently picked up his phone.

I needed to know.

Who was he talking to? Why did he call her babe? Why did he act the same way with her as he used to act with me?

Thankfully, the facial ID worked. Maybe he forgot to disable it. Or maybe he had no idea I still had access. But his phone opened.

I went into his call history.

And then I saw it.

Racheal.

He had been talking to a woman all along.

Who was she?

And why were they talking that way?