After ten years of marriage, my husband's old flame returned to Seattle.

To be with her, he bribed a doctor to forge a terminal diagnosis.

On my birthday, he knelt before me, papers in hand, begging me to let him go.

I stared into his eyes. "Ethan, this illness… is it real?"

His voice was firm. "It's real. A late-stage neurodegenerative disease."

A bitter laugh escaped me.

What he didn't know was that everyone in my family gets a once-in-a-lifetime chance to turn spoken words into reality.

And he'd just used it to curse himself with a very real, very terminal illness.

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1

For Ethan's birthday, I’d planned the perfect surprise—a romantic candlelight dinner at home.

Instead, he dropped to his knees before me, holding a forged diagnosis for a neurodegenerative disease.

"Ava, the test results are in. I have a degenerative brain disease," he said, his eyes filled with a well-rehearsed sorrow. "It's terminal."

My heart clenched, but as his words sank in, a dark, secret relief washed over me.

Because everyone in my family gets a single chance to make spoken words reality. As long as you use this chance without the other person knowing, you can alter their fate.

I gazed at the grief etched on Ethan's still-handsome face and used my chance without a second thought.

Once used, it can never be undone.

My eyes filled with anticipation as I asked him, "Is your illness… is it real?"

But his next words plunged me into an icy abyss.

Ethan looked at me and nodded firmly. "The doctor said I only have a year left..."

"Ava, my whole life, I've worked hard for the company, fought for our family. I've never had a life of my own. Now, with only a year left, I want to live for myself, just this once."

"Chloe and I... we've lost ten years. This time, I don't want to miss our chance again."

My heart grew colder with every word. I clutched the corner of my dress, my gaze turning pleading.

"Ethan, I'm asking you one last time. Is it real?"

Just say no, I screamed in my head. Just deny it!

Ethan, as long as you say none of this is real, the illness will vanish, and you can live!

But Ethan was resolute, his tone tinged with a joy he couldn't quite suppress.

"Ava, this is the test result from the best hospital in Seattle."

"I've really been diagnosed. Late-stage degenerative brain disease."

The candlelight dinner on the table had grown cold, the birthday cake I had specially prepared for him melting.

When I tried to stand and clear the dishes, my hand trembled, and I knocked a crystal glass to the floor. It shattered.

It was from a set Ethan and I had custom-ordered for our wedding.

Our initials were engraved on it.

Now, it was just a pile of glittering shards on the floor. Just like us.

I closed my eyes, suppressing the bitterness that rose in my throat.

"Fine," I whispered, the word tasting like ash in my mouth.

I met Ethan at a business gala hosted by our parents.

Even before we married, I knew Ethan's heart belonged to another woman.

His college sweetheart, Chloe Vance.

They were a couple from their freshman to junior years, a campus fairy tale everyone thought was destined for a happy ending.

Chloe thought so, too. From the moment she set foot on campus, she declared to anyone who would listen,

"Ethan Ashworth, you're mine for life!"

But fate, as always, had a flair for the dramatic.

During her junior year, Chloe became infatuated with a rock singer. To pursue what she called "true love," she dropped out of college without a second thought and followed the singer on tour across Europe.

She was direct and passionate, but the Ashworth family prized their reputation above all else. After the scandal she caused, they grimly warned Ethan to cut off all contact with her.

Ethan was heartbroken.

And that's when I entered the picture.

In our circle, arranged marriages were standard practice for business alliances. As long as the families were of equal social standing, the union was a foregone conclusion.

In ten years of marriage, Ethan never mentioned Chloe. He was a gentle and attentive husband, and we never had a serious argument.

Everyone envied me, saying I'd married a wonderful man and was living a perfect life.

My heart, too, had been filled with a quiet joy. I truly thought we could make it to the end together.

But in the tenth year of our marriage, Chloe returned.

She had always been bold. The moment she landed in Seattle, she shamelessly announced her return to the world on social media.

She was going to take back everything she had lost, including her first love.

She was a woman of her word. She rented a sports car and drove to the coffee shop where they used to have dates, just to taste the espresso they once shared.

And Ethan, a man who was notoriously frugal, cherished that lukewarm cup of coffee and downed it in one gulp.

They went to the beach to watch the sunset together.

They snuck onto their old university campus, pretending to be board members on an inspection tour, teasing the new freshmen before ducking away to laugh hysterically.

They went to high-end hotels, strolling hand-in-hand through the rooftop garden before hiding in a corner to kiss, unleashing a decade of pent-up longing.

For ten years, Ethan had been a model husband, but now he started coming home later and later.

Until one day, he didn't come home at all.

I sat in the living room all night, the tears refusing to fall, my heart turning to ice as I watched the sky slowly brighten.

He wasn't there, but an important contract at the company needed his signature, and the project manager was a nervous wreck.

After a sleepless night, I dragged my exhausted body to the office to clean up his mess.

I worked until dark, and when I finally got home, I stumbled upon one of Chloe's private Instagram accounts.

It was filled with photos and videos—all proof of their torrid affair.

After ten years of marriage, I had always thought Ethan was just a naturally aloof and reserved man.

I realize now it wasn't that he didn't know how to be romantic; he was simply saving it all for Chloe.

He claimed he disliked public displays of affection, yet he had swept Chloe into his arms at the airport in front of everyone.

He claimed he disliked physical contact, yet he was tangled in a passionate embrace with her in a hotel room.

With trembling hands, I scrolled through the private photos, which were flooded with likes and celebratory comments from their friends.

Everyone was cheering for their reunion, hoping they would get back together soon.

I stared at the small screen. This was just a fraction of their love story, but it was enough to make my ten-year marriage feel like a complete joke.

I sat on the sofa all night, waiting for him.

He came back with a smile still lingering on his lips, which vanished the moment he saw me.

I threw the phone at him, and he scrambled to snatch it out of the air.

I just stood there, watching the man I had spent a decade with become so frantic over another woman.

He deleted all the photos, meticulously checking to ensure no trace remained.

Then he looked at me, his expression cold.

"Since you already know, there's no point in hiding it."

"I've been married to you for ten years. In all that time, I've never wronged you. I've done right by you."

"Now Chloe's back. We lost ten years, Ava. I owe her this. I need you to understand."

"Let's get a divorce. I need to give Chloe her rightful place by my side."