My Fake Tumor, My Wife's Real Affair

Halfway through packing, my gaze stopped on the dark green box inside the cabinet. Simone had never allowed me to touch that box.

At this point, I was beyond caring, so to hell with her rules.

When I opened the box, the pain I had mentally prepared myself for still came crashing down and nearly overwhelmed me.

Inside were the 99 things Simone wanted to do with Shawn.

The card on top had a sentence written on it, "I want to have an adorable baby with Shawn."

On the back of the card was her "guilt" toward Shawn.

The paragraph read, "I accidentally got pregnant before. It was all my fault. In this lifetime, I'll only have children with Shawn. Luckily, I miscarried in the end."

I had longed for many years for the arrival of that precious baby into this world… However, I never imagined Simone hated its existence that much.

It turned out she had never forgotten her first love, Shawn, all along. Not only had she hired him as her personal secretary, but she had also made all these promises with him in private.

The only reason she had agreed to be with me was probably for my money.

I wiped away my tears and took a few photos before putting the box back where it belonged.

Suddenly, the electronic lock beeped. I looked through the crack in the doorway and saw Simone entering our home with Shawn right beside her.

She looked excited as she grabbed his hand and said, "Shawn, I think I'm suffering from the aftereffects of the car accident. My head keeps buzzing. Thank goodness you're willing to come take care of me."

I stepped out of the room with a frigid expression, just in time to hear Shawn reply affectionately, "Isn't that my job as your secretary? It's only right for me to take care of you."

As he spoke, he wrapped his arm around Simone naturally without thinking.

Upon seeing me, Shawn was quick to react.

He pretended to look surprised as he stuttered, "O-Oh! You're home, Heath."

As he spoke, he hurriedly distanced himself from Simone. His eyes flashed nervously. She, however, pulled him over to stand behind her protectively.

When she looked at me, she spoke in an accusatory and dissatisfied tone. "You eavesdropped on my call with Shawn last night, didn't you? What do you want, Heath? Shawn took the trouble to come and take care of me. All you do is act suspicious and cause trouble for no reason!"

I frowned. At that moment, the discomfort in my heart hurt far more than the physiological suffering caused by my fever. I suppressed my nausea, but the anger surging rapidly within was close to making me snap at any moment.

I said coldly, "Simone, it's not like I'm dead yet. But you're already in such a hurry to bring him here to 'take care' of you, is that it?"

Shawn had a jeering smile on his face as he leaned closer to Simone. "Heath, you misunderstood us. Simone and I—"

Before he could finish speaking, Simone suddenly clutched her head as if she were in unbearable pain.

Shawn panicked and held her tightly. "Simone, what's wrong? Don't scare me!"

Simone struggled painfully for a moment. With unfocused eyes, she looked at Shawn. Suddenly, she pulled him into a tight embrace.

She called out tenderly, "Honey…"

Then, she turned to look at me with an enraged expression. "Who are you? Why are you in my house? Get out!"

At her current brain cancer stage, memory loss wasn't a likely symptom. Who did she think she was fooling?

I leaned against the doorway and asked, "Shouldn't you take a good look at the wedding photo hanging on the wall before asking who I am?"

She grabbed Shawn and shouted at me, "How would I know when you hung that up? I only love my husband, Shawn!"

After saying that, she even pretended to be in agony. She looked like she was in so much pain that she would start rolling around on the floor at any minute.

Upon seeing this, Shawn looked at me and said, "I think Simone's memories are jumbled up because of the car accident. Please, Heath, don't agitate her anymore. Since she only remembers me right now, let me stay and take care of her. You should move out for now."

I turned around and walked back into the bedroom. "No need to say 'please'. I was already planning to move out anyway."

With that, I walked out carrying a small suitcase. I placed the divorce agreement I had prepared that morning on the table.

In a grim voice, I said, "Let's get a divorce, Simone."