My Terminal Diagnosis, His Cruel Divorce

Gerard snatched the phone off the nightstand. He answered it immediately. "Kena? What is wrong?" His voice was laced with a frantic panic he could not hide.

Through the quiet room, Adaline could hear the thin, reedy sound of Kena crying on the other end of the line. "Gerard, it hurts. I cannot breathe. I think I am dying. Please help me."

Gerard's face went completely pale. He threw the covers off and jumped out of bed. "I am coming. Just hold on. Do not close your eyes."

He walked into the massive walk-in closet and began pulling on a shirt and pants with frantic speed.

Adaline sat up. The cold air hit her skin, making her shiver again. She watched his broad back as he dressed. "Gerard, your grandfather is sleeping right down the hall. If you walk out that door right now, he will know. The board will know."

Gerard stopped buttoning his shirt for exactly one second. Then his fingers moved again, faster this time. "Kena's life is more important than the company rules."

He walked out of the closet and stopped at the edge of the bed. He looked down at Adaline with cold, hard eyes. "You figure out a way to cover for me tomorrow morning. If you let my grandfather find out, I will make sure you do not get a single cent from this divorce."

Adaline looked at the absolute determination in his eyes. She knew nothing she said would stop him. She slowly closed her eyes and nodded.

Gerard did not look at her again. He grabbed his car keys from the dresser and walked out. The bedroom door clicked shut.

Adaline fell back onto the pillows. She pulled the heavy duvet up to her chin, but the cold was deep inside her bones. No blanket could fix it.

Ten minutes later, Adaline's own phone buzzed on the nightstand. It was an incoming call from an unknown number.

She stared at the glowing digits, a sudden, heavy knot of dread forming in the pit of her stomach. There was no photograph, no visual proof needed to tell her who was on the other end. The timing was too perfect, too maliciously calculated. She took a slow, painful breath, bracing herself for the inevitable.

The phone kept ringing, an encrypted number demanding her attention. She pressed answer and held the phone to her ear.

A soft, triumphant laugh came through the speaker. It was Kena. There was no trace of the weak, dying woman from ten minutes ago. Her voice was strong and dripping with arrogance.

"Did you really think the old man could keep him tied to you?" Kena asked. "Gerard will always choose me. He belongs to me."

Adaline gripped the phone tightly. Her knuckles turned white. "You are faking your illness to manipulate him. It is pathetic."

Kena's voice turned sharp and vicious. "You are the pathetic one, Adaline. You are sitting in an empty bed while your husband is holding me. He just kissed my forehead. He is making me tea right now. He looks at me like I am the only thing that matters in the world."

Every word Kena spoke was a physical blow to Adaline's chest. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through her stomach. The cancer flared up, feeding on her emotional distress.

Adaline doubled over in the bed. Cold sweat broke out across her forehead. She bit down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself from screaming in pain. She refused to let Kena hear her suffer.

She forced herself to take a shallow breath. "You are terrified, Kena. You have to play sick because you know you are not enough for him on your own."

Adaline ended the call and dropped the phone.

She could not hold it in anymore. She leaned over the side of the bed and dry-heaved violently. Her stomach muscles cramped so hard she felt like she was being torn in half. Only bitter acid came up.

She needed her painkillers. She slid off the bed and crawled across the carpet toward the bathroom.

As she dragged herself past the coffee table, her foot caught the cord of a heavy brass floor lamp. The lamp tipped over and crashed onto the floor with a loud thud.

Adaline froze. She slapped both hands over her mouth.

Footsteps approached in the hallway outside. Bruno's voice came through the door. "Madam? Is everything alright in there?"

Adaline squeezed her eyes shut. She fought through the blinding pain in her stomach and forced her voice to sound sleepy and calm. "I am fine, Bruno. I just bumped into the lamp in the dark. Go back to sleep."

Bruno paused outside the door. "Very well, Madam." The footsteps slowly faded away.

Adaline let out a shaky breath. She dragged herself into the bathroom, opened the cabinet, and swallowed two pills without water. She slumped against the cold tiles, staring at her ruined reflection in the mirror. She was done crying over him. Tomorrow, she was going to end this.