Chapter 3

The next day, I left the house with heavy bags under my eyes, having barely slept a wink.

Derek kept wanting water, then food, then to use the restroom, then to look at the scenery.

There was no moment of rest.

I felt a mix of irritation and heartache.

At noon, I received the medical report that had been mailed to me.

This was from a check-up two months ago.

I opened it with a sliver of hope, but my heart still plummeted.

The report clearly stated the word "cancer."

But there was good news.

Derek was still in the early stages of cancer.

With proper treatment, there was a chance of recovery.

I silently cursed the previous hospital.

Such incompetent doctors.

They'd misdiagnosed early-stage as late-stage.

I raced home the second my shift ended, the report burning a hole in my bag. I wanted to surprise them.

But no one was home.

I called, only to be told they'd gone to the park again.

He said my cooking was so bad he couldn't stomach it. So he didn't want to see me.

The line went dead before I could speak.

They didn't come back for dinner.

So I went to them, clutching the report. I was eager to tell them the good news.

But when I arrived at the park, I saw Derek embracing a woman.