He paced the small room. "Ms. Henson... she's been brainwashed by that kid! That's why she treats you like dirt. Don't listen to the people laughing online. The real staff, the ones who matter? We don't care about your past. We only know the Andrew who works himself to death for us."
A shaking finger pointed at the door. "If it weren't for you, the company would have gone under weeks ago."
Simon's words were a flicker of warmth in a frozen world. I waved my hand weakly, dismissing him.
I needed to be alone.
Silence descended. Only the rhythmic drip of the IV broke it.
Against my better judgment, I opened my phone. Checked her social media.
Jade had posted thirty minutes ago.
The photo was taken in a karaoke room, bathed in garish neon light. Max sat in front of a delicate birthday cake, hands clasped in prayer, eyes closed as he made a wish.
Jade was right next to him. Leaning intimately on his shoulder. Smiling brighter than she had smiled at me in years.
The caption read: *"My trusted pup said the life I saved is a new life. So, today is his new birthday. Happy Birthday, Max."*
Max had commented below: *"I wish that we both get everything our hearts desire."*
I zoomed in on the photo.
On their necks—both of them—several dark, damning hickeys.
I stared at the red marks until my vision blurred. An invisible hand crushed my heart, squeezing the life out of me. Breathing became a physical battle.
Three years of marriage. A stomach hemorrhage. A hospital bed.
She was out partying with her intern, celebrating his "rebirth."
*What am I to her?*
Numbly, I dialed Jade's number.
It rang for a long time. When she finally picked up, bass thumped and laughter echoed in the background.
"What is it?" Sharp. Impatient.
I licked my cracked lips. "I left my laptop at home. There's an urgent document on it. Can you bring it to the hospital?"
A scoff. Loud and cruel.
"Andrew Mason, are you done yet?"
"Using this kind of pathetic excuse to trick me into coming over? Trying to separate me and Max?" Another laugh. "Does it make you feel better?"
I closed my eyes. A tear leaked out. "What if I'm really sick, Jade?"
"Sick? What sickness could you possibly have?" Her voice rose, dripping with mockery. "Don't tell me you're going to say cancer?"
She laughed—a cold, jagged sound. "Andrew, you really won't stop acting just to get some sympathy, will you?"
*Cancer.*
The word hit me like a physical blow.