She Played Sick, I Played Along

Hazel Zimmerman held my hand affectionately outside the courthouse and said softly, "You'll be free if I don't return from seeking medical treatment abroad this time, Brandon. If I do manage to get better, we'll remarry."

If I hadn't personally overheard her the day before, I probably would have been crying my eyes out at that moment.

It was then that a luxury car honked repeatedly behind her, as if trying to rush her. She suddenly let go of my hand and said, "I have something to take care of first, so we'll talk about this later, Brandon."

She rushed toward the luxury car after saying that.

I caught sight of the person sitting inside as soon as she opened the passenger door, and it was none other than Nathan Chapman—her childhood sweetheart.

It was then that two transaction notifications popped up on my phone, with one for two plane tickets to Iskelund and the other a reservation for a hotel where one could watch the aurora, complete with a king-sized bed.

Hazel didn't know that I had linked our phone accounts because I was worried she might do something drastic after her "terminal" diagnosis. I had no idea that these would be the first notifications I would end up seeing after doing that.

Hazel received a diagnosis of a rare disease a month ago.

I poured absolutely everything into getting her medical care, crying myself sick over it, yet not a single hospital was willing to admit her for treatment.

It wasn't until I came home after getting rejected yet again that I learned the truth from Hazel herself. It turned out the whole thing was just an excuse she invented so she could divorce me and go on a trip with Nathan. I realized then that she had been lying to me all along.

I returned home with the newly issued divorce decree in my hand, my phone constantly buzzing with payment alerts. Hazel was booking flights and hotels for their trip, and, predictably, every single reservation was for a room with a king-sized bed.

I broke into tears without even realizing it. I assumed I had cried myself out when I first learned of Hazel's diagnosis, but to my surprise, I could still cry like this again.

I had been warned by the doctor that my eyes were badly damaged and that crying any more could blind me, but I couldn't stop myself from crying.

…

That evening, Hazel returned home and handed me a bouquet. "It'll be the last time I give you flowers, Brandon. I'll be going abroad for medical treatment in a few days."

Hazel's smile remained gentle under the lights, but the hickey on her neck was a glaring, unmistakable red.

I managed a weak smile, but the tears still spilled out anyway.

Hazel panicked and hurriedly embraced me. "You're actually that worried about me? You can rest assured that I'll make it through this. I'll get better, and we'll get remarried. I'll give you the most spectacular wedding in the world, Brandon."

She had just said that when her phone suddenly rang with a very specific ringtone. She instantly shot me a guilty look and stepped away to answer it.

It was only then that I realized that in our seven years of marriage, that ringtone had gone off countless times, and every time she answered it, she would leave shortly after. I had never noticed it before this.

Hazel shot me an apologetic look after ending the call. "I have some urgent things to take care of before I leave the country, so please head to bed first—don't wait up for me, Brandon."

I instinctively reached out and took her hand, even though a white haze clouded my eyes. "Is it possible for you to stay with me tonight, Hazel?"