When His Lie Became My Truth
To make up for past regrets with his first love, my husband, Pierce Ronan, lied that he could see everyone’s lifespan.
He told me I had sixty years left, but his first love, Jessica Stone, had only seven days to live. So, for those seven days, he said he had to fulfill the promises of their youth.
He brought her home, cared for her, and when they went back to their old college campus to relive their love, I didn’t protest.
When he confessed his love to her and planned the wedding of the century, asking me to be the bridesmaid, I didn’t raise my voice.
It wasn’t until he wanted to break the final taboo — in our marital bedroom — that he looked at me with guilt in his eyes and begged me to move out.
The housemaids watched, snickering behind their hands, but I only smiled and nodded in agreement.
I packed my bags, carried our child, and moved into the guest room next door.
Seeing how obedient I remained, Pierce was touched.
“I promise, this will be the last time I wrong you. Once Jessica passes, I’ll make it up to you.”
What he didn’t know was that I had already seen through his lies.
What he also didn’t know was that the one truly dying of cancer, the one with only seven days left to live, was me.
Three days remained.
Then, I would be gone.