After Her 99th Breakup, He Divorced Me

"These scans do not lie, Elsa." Dr. Evans tapped his silver pen against the illuminated x-ray.

"There must be a mistake," I said.

"We ran the bloodwork twice. The biopsy confirms it."

"But I feel fine. I just have a little back pain."

"That pain is the tumor pressing against your spine. The cancer has progressed significantly."

"How significantly?"

"Stage three. We must begin treatment immediately."

"I need a few days. I need to process this."

"You don't have a few days. If we don't start aggressive chemotherapy by tomorrow, the odds of survival drop to single digits."

"Tomorrow? I can't. My husband is out of town on a business trip."

"Your husband isn't the one with tumors in his body. You are."

"He needs to know. I have to talk to him before I agree to anything."

"Call him, then. But do not leave this hospital without signing the admission papers."

I walked out of the office. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow over the linoleum floor.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. My hands shook so badly I dropped the device twice before I finally unlocked the screen.

I dialed Mike's number.

It rang. And rang.

"Pick up, pick up," I muttered.

Finally, the line clicked open.

"What do you want, Elsa?" Mike's voice was sharp. Irritated.

"Mike, I'm at the clinic."

"I told you I have back-to-back meetings all afternoon. Why are you bothering me?"

"Dr. Evans just gave me the test results."

"I don't have time for this nonsense."

"It's not nonsense. It's cancer."

Silence stretched across the line.

"Mike? Did you hear me?"

"Elsa, stop faking being sick to trick me."

"What? I'm not faking anything! I'm holding the medical report right now."

"Annie already told me your games."

My stomach plummeted. "Annie? You're talking to Annie?"

"She called me this morning. She warned me you'd pull a stunt like this to ruin my trip."

"You believe her over your own wife?"

"She doesn't lie to me."

"I gave up everything for you! I abandoned my spot at the New York music conservatory. I quit playing the piano so I could work double shifts and fund your startup! Why would I lie about dying?"

"Keep your voice down. You made your own choices back then."

"Mike, please. I'm terrified. I need you to come home."

"I'm not falling for this manipulation. Don't call me again."

"Mike, wait—"

The call disconnected.

***

Inside the penthouse suite of the Grand Hotel, Mike hurled his phone onto the plush carpet.

Annie stepped out of the bathroom. She wore a white silk robe, tying the sash loosely around her waist.

"Was that her?" Annie asked.

"Yes."

"Did she use the cancer line?"

"Exactly like you predicted."

Annie walked over and placed her hands on his shoulders. "She's just desperate to keep you on a leash."

Mike clenched his jaw. He stared out the window at the city skyline.

Annie leaned in. She rested her chin on his arm. "You're so tense about her," she whispered, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "Do you still love her?"

"I don't want to talk about Elsa."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

Mike turned his head. His gaze landed on the bedside table. Annie's phone screen lit up with an incoming message. The background image showed a tanned, muscular man on a boat.

"Who is that?" Mike demanded.

"Oh, him?" Annie picked up the phone. "Just my ninety-ninth boyfriend. He wants to take me to Paris next week."

"You're not going anywhere with him."

"I'm a single woman, Mike. I can do whatever I want."

"You know I hate it when you mention other men."

"Then make me forget them."

Mike grabbed her waist. He yanked her flush against his chest. Jealousy flared hot and dangerous in his eyes.

He crashed his mouth onto hers, entirely losing control.

***

Back at the hospital, I sat alone on a hard plastic bench.

My phone screen slowly faded to black.

I stared at the dark rectangle in my hands.

When I needed him most, he chose to believe another woman. He chose the very person who constantly tried to sabotage my life.

I squeezed the medical report. The paper crinkled loudly in the quiet corridor.

Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Crying wouldn't shrink the tumors. Crying wouldn't make Mike love me again.

I wiped my eyes with the back of my sleeve.

"Mike," I whispered to the empty air. "This time, I won't wait for you anymore."

I stood up. I smoothed the wrinkles from my coat.

I turned toward the exit. I would face this illness on my own.

Before I could take a step, my phone rang.

I paused. I pulled the device back out.

An unknown number flashed on the screen.

I swiped the green icon. "Hello?"

"Miss Elsa," a man's voice said. The tone was smooth, chillingly calm, and completely unfamiliar.

"Who is calling?"

"Someone who knows exactly what your husband is doing in that hotel room right now."

My grip tightened on the plastic case. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about your future," the stranger said. "If you want to live, I can give you a choice."