Cancer Man And Taurus Woman Novels & Stories

“I’m not leaving you. Everything will be alright. Even if we have to sell every last thing we own, we’ll get you cured. It’s only cancer, big deal. Medicine has come a long way.” He pushed me aside, surged to his feet, and went over to stand before the window, his back to me. “The doctor diagnosed it as late-stage stomach cancer. Cure me, you say? There is no cure.” I mustered my courage and forced my lips into a smile. I needed to tell him my plans: “As for money, you needn’t worry. I’ve got it all figured out! I’ll sell that place I’ve got, downtown—” Something gave me pause. Had I just misheard him?

“Don’t use it.” I frowned. “Huh? Why?” He clutched his chest, breathing rough. “That product causes cancer. On the news, over four hundred women already have cancer. It’s not ordinary. It’s our product.” My eyes widened. “You’re… you’re joking, sir.” “Wish I was. I’m cancer positive now.” “Oh my days…” My heart skipped. “Isn’t that the same company Tressa owns?” He scoffed bitterly. “Technically, yes. She’s the owner now. But she’s an evil bitch. She stole the Dante’s wealth. Every single property belongs to us—she’s taking it all.”

The man groaned, finding his own release inside her. They lay there for a moment, catching their breath. "That was good, really good," Vivian said softly. He nodded. "You're such a good slut, you always deliver." She smiled. "It's what you pay me for." The man kissed her once more, then got comfortable on the bed. "My wife might just die," he said. "The cancer might just definitely kill her, and I'm not cheating on my wife, man got needs, I need to fuck."

The feeling of being a gazelle stalked by a lion on the hunt. “I’m 28 if you’re wondering Cassandra.” I look up at the mention of my name. And my eyes start to pick at his features. He’s tall, fit physique, the same black combed back hair, brown eyes that seemed intense and with intent, a strong jaw structure and a trustworthy perfect smile. I also notice that as I’m taking mental notes of his appearance, he rolls up his sleeves to his button-up and there’s a small blotch of ink visible just at the cuff. “Can I ask what that tattoo is?” Better to make small talk than to keep dissecting the handsome doctor who just diagnosed me with cancer three days ago.

He looks scared of Gabe. "Y-Yes, sir." This man is an example of a person that is easy to read. Larisa can tell at one glance how he lives. He's the type of a guy back then who was bullied but excelled academically. In short, he's a weak man who's now working for Gabe. "What's your illness?" Gabe asked as his brows met. "I have cancer," her mouth almost circled right after he said that. He has a fvcking cancer? Even Leo's attention was captured. The man couldn't even look at Gabe.

Then my eyes land on a study which got me for a second. The divorce rate of female cancer patients is seven times higher than male cancer patients. Compared to seven men leaving, one woman leaves. I stare aimlessly, reading the whole article and it doesn't really bother me. I inhale deeply and a smile flashes on my face. Ann must be fearing this. She thought I would see something like this and get triggered. But little did she know that, my life is definitely straight out of a fairytale. Maybe, a depressing fairytale. But still, it is.

"He's into freelance modeling or whatever. He doesn't work for anyone. I mean, he never wanted to. But he does a lot of things, Scar. He ices skates during winter in Siberia, surfs in summer, models at any time of the year with his crew and there's this blondie with cerulean blue eyes always hanging onto him in photos and videos on Tikt*k. And did I forget, he has a Tikt*k account with over a million followers? Now, tell me, am I not way out of his league? The plain Raya with Cancer whose leg is about to be amputated because my cancer is as stubborn as I am," "The cancer is not yours," I said. She laughed. "It is. Cancer is basically cell mutation, so it belongs to me" "And this makes you th

he said, tapping the table with his fingers. “But if you ignore it… if you let it stay…" he turned, looking directly at me. "It becomes cancer.” I stared at him, he wasn't talking about medicines, "You're suggesting I eliminate the problem,” I said flatly, he shrugged. "Not necessarily,” he stood, adjusting the sleeve of his shirt. "Cancer can be malignant…" his smile returned. “...or benign." He walked toward the door and paused behind my sit, "So the choice is yours, big brother.”

"A healthy man. Forty-five years old. Ran marathons. Never smoked. Within six months of refusing Adrian, he had stage four cancer." The anchor leans forward. "Are you suggesting" "I'm suggesting that the cancer's timing was convenient for Adrian Hayes. I'm suggesting my husband was terrified in his final months. That he told me if anything happened to him, to protect our daughter, to hide the research." Mom's eyes are fierce. "I'm suggesting that powerful men have ways of making problems disappear." "That's a serious accusation."

“The good news—if we can call it that—is that we caught it at a stage where we can still act. She’s lucky. Very lucky. We can begin chemotherapy almost immediately if she’s ready.” “Lucky?” the man repeated brokenly. “How is cancer lucky?” James lowered his gaze for a moment. “Because timing matters,” he said gently. “If this had gone unnoticed any longer, our options would have been fewer.” Silence filled the room again. Tears welled in the man’s eyes, spilling over before he could stop them. “My poor wife,” he whispered. “She’s suffered so much already. Why is this happening to such a good person? Why do good people suffer this way?”