hapter 3
Actually, I had known about Davon’s cancer diagnosis long before.
But it wasn’t late–stage yet. There was still a chance for treatment. I never expected him to give up so easily. I never thought my in–laws and sister–in–law would give up so quickly, either.
The pain was unbearable. I went to the bathroom to wash my tear–streaked face.
I couldn’t help but touch the real diagnosis report in my bag.
It was the last check–up report from Davon’s medical exam. Perhaps it was too old, and Davon had forgotten about it. I had managed to get it back just now.
The diagnosis read: Stage 2 cancer.
The doctor’s words echoed in my mind: He said there was still a 50% chance with conservative treatment, but if left untreated, it would progress to stage 4 in a month, and
then it would be incurable.
In other words, my husband’s life, if untreated, likely only had one month left.
I was distressed about how to tell Davon this. After all, who would feel good upon learning
they only had a month to live? But I didn’t expect him to say it first.
Though the diagnosis report he showed me was fake, his condition was real.
I still couldn’t understand why Davon and his family had gone to such lengths to forge a
fake diagnosis report to deceive me.
But today, I understood. They wanted me to divorce Davon.
Why? Because Davon had cheated on me.
I had discovered his affair last month. His mistress was pregnant with his child, a boy–far more valuable than my daughter.
Since he didn’t want treatment, and his life was nearing its end, I wouldn’t hold any
Chapter 3
grudges.
After all, I was a good person. In the days to come, I would help Davon through his last days.
I wiped away my tears and walked out.
