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When My Husband Got HIV, I Smiled Novel Cover

When My Husband Got HIV, I Smiled

In the modern novel When My Husband Got HIV, I Smiled, betrayal has become a routine for a stoic wife. After catching her husband, Andy Lowe, with another woman for the ninth time, she calmly assists the mistress's exit instead of reacting. Andy remains indifferent, defending the girl's innocence and planning a night away for her birthday. However, his dismissal of his wife hides a lethal oversight: he is unaware that his new lover carries AIDS.
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Chapter 3

“At home.”

“Why haven’t you been replying to my messages?”

He coughed lightly. “I haven’t been feeling well these past couple of days. When are you coming back?”

“My mother was hospitalized,” I said softly. “I need to take care of her for a few days.”

He sounded displeased, holding his temper as he reminded me, “Alright. Take care of yourself.

“Oh, and Janet has already been discharged. She doesn’t really know anyone, and I wasn’t comfortable with her staying alone in a hotel, so I let her move into the house for now. She’s staying in your room. Don’t overthink it when you come back.”

I acknowledged him.

Of course I wouldn’t overthink it.

That bedroom was the space I had personally cleared out for them.

Another five days passed.

This time, it was his assistant calling.

Panic was evident in the voice on the other end.

“Ma’am, something has happened to Mr. Lowe.”

My fingers tightened slightly around the phone.

“He developed a fever last night. It hasn’t gone down at all. He was rushed to the ER this morning.

“The doctor says the situation is a bit complicated and recommends that a family member come as soon as possible.”

I was silent for two seconds. “Which hospital?”

The assistant gave me the address.

It was the same one Janet had stayed at before.

“I understand, I’ll head over.”

After hanging up, I sat on the edge of the bed.

The weather was too beautiful to suggest that anything bad was about to happen.

The doctor knocked and came in.

“Miss Scott.”

He looked at me and asked, “Are you going out?”

“Yes.” I stood up. “To see my husband.”

He seemed to want to say something, but in the end only reminded me, “Please make sure to protect yourself.”

I smiled and put my mask on properly.

“Don’t worry.”

I had always taken better care of myself than anyone else.

…

As the car entered the city, my phone lit up.

It was a message from Andy.

[Where are you now]

I stared at the words for a long time before replying.

[On the way]

[I don’t feel very well. The doctor is running some tests]

He was probably starting to feel uneasy.

In the past, whenever he was sick, I was always the one keeping watch by his bedside.

He had long grown used to the certainty that I would be there.

This time, all he could do was wait for my replies through a screen.

I didn’t respond.

The smell of disinfectant in the hospital was sharp and heavy.

The assistant stood outside the ward, his expression grim.

“Ma’am.”

He lowered his voice, “The doctor has completed the initial assessment and recommends more specialized testing.”

I nodded. “Alright.”

When I pushed the door open, Andy was leaning against the headboard, an IV drip in his arm.

He was visibly thinner, his face pale.

The moment he saw me, he let out a breath, his features easing. “You’re here.”

In that instant, an instinctive reliance flickered in his eyes.

I walked over and sat by the bed. “Where does it hurt?”

“My whole body feels weak. My head hurts too,” he said casually. “The doctor thinks it might just be a cold.”

I straightened the blanket around him, my movements gentle.

“Don’t worry,” I said softly. “You’ll be fine.”

He suddenly reached out and caught my wrist.

“Ellen.”

His voice was a little hoarse. “You’ve worked hard.”

I lowered my gaze to his hand.

Those hands had held mine through crowds more times than I could count.

“We’re husband and wife,” I said.

Only then did he truly relax, slowly closing his eyes.

Not long after, the doctor motioned for me to step outside to talk.

Before handing me the report, he looked at me.

“Miss Scott, the results have been confirmed.”

I took the report, my eyes falling on the most critical line.

—Infection confirmed.

“Does he know yet?” I asked.

“Not for now,” the doctor said. “In situations like this, it’s usually recommended that a family member inform him.”

I nodded.

When I returned to the room, Andy was still asleep.

Sunlight fell across his face, quiet and harmless.

I sat by the bed and looked at him for a long time.

“Andy.”

He opened his eyes. “Mm?”

I looked at him, my tone still gentle.

“The doctor said you’re ill.”

He froze.

“What illness?”

I didn’t answer right away.

I simply placed the report slowly in front of him.

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