The Last Three Months of My Life

I was Johan Lundberg's secretary.

Seven years ago, I'd just started working. One drunken night, we ended up together.

Three days later, Johan found me. He wanted me as his secretary—and his woman. Said he'd make it worth my while.

I said no.

As far as I was concerned, that night never happened. No one else needed to know.

Johan listened without a word. Then he nodded, left his business card, and walked away.

Not long after, both my parents were diagnosed with cancer.

Cancer treatment cost a fortune.

Around the same time, each of them wanted to stop treatment so the other could be saved.

After days of going back and forth, I pulled out Johan's business card and called him.

He named a number I couldn't refuse.

I went quiet.

Then I said yes.

But money can't bargain with death.

I hired the best doctors and paid for the best treatments. But I still lost them.

My dad died six months after his diagnosis.

My mom held on for two more years.

On the day of her funeral, Johan cleared his schedule to be with me.

We stood under a black umbrella in the cemetery. My parents' shared headstone gleamed in the rain.

That day, I lost the last of my family.

The only person I had left was a boss who paid to keep me around.

After that, I gave myself fully to being Johan's woman.

To be fair, he wasn't a bad deal.

Tall, handsome, rich, powerful.

He wasn't gentle or thoughtful, but he never had weird demands or forced me into anything.

He was my boss.

My benefactor.

Sometimes, I'd shut my brain off and pretend he was someone I could lean on.

I knew I'd lasted longer than any woman by his side.

I also knew I wasn't the only one.

I knew Johan's limits. What I could do. What I couldn't.

I was sweet, soft, easy to deal with. Even when I acted a little needy, it was calculated. Just enough to make him think I depended on him.

I kept telling myself not to take it seriously.

Not to fall for him.

Even after we'd been together long enough to pass for an old married couple, I knew he'd get tired of me someday.

I just didn't expect cancer to beat him to it.

After my parents died, their doctor told me the risk of cancer was higher in my family.

Genetics. Family history.

He told me to watch my health and get checked every year if I could.

I thanked him.

Then I ignored it.