On our wedding anniversary, fate struck hard; I was diagnosed with stomach cancer.
Amid my own fight for life, my wife was focused on caring for her first love's child.
In a moment of desperation, I called her and said I felt like I was dying, asking if she could come.
She cut me off, her voice cold. “Oliver, stop being so dramatic! I’m tutoring Conan. If you’re going to die, just do it quietly and don’t bother me!”
Overwhelmed by despair, I came back home, calm and composed.
Right there and then, I laid eyes on my cherished wife and her first love sitting comfortably on the sofa, seeming like a lovely couple.
The moment they glimpsed me, they were taken aback and quickly turned to the middle-aged woman beside them, saying, “Oh, teacher, don’t get the wrong idea. He’s just the child's uncle, not what you might think.”
She shot me a chilling glance as if to say I should just disappear if I was going to be such a burden.
And, as if by her wish, I did indeed die. But rather than being relieved, she was consumed by madness.
…
Through thick and thin, Celeste Morgan stood by me—from our college days to the moment we exchanged vows, becoming my wife.
We promised to stay true to each other, to grow old together, and to always have each other's back.
However, as her first love came into the picture, those promises began to crumble. Her feelings for me gradually faded, and the bond we once cherished seemed to slip away.
My wife, who once meant everything to me, slowly drifted from my thoughts.
When her first love came back from abroad with a child, out of nowhere, Celeste became the child's tutor, with her attention solely focused on them.
From that moment on, she seemed to have forgotten me as her husband, leaving me neglected and adrift.
She frequently stayed late after work, dedicating her evenings to tutoring her first love’s child and returning home around midnight. She was determined to make the child the top student in class.
Her devotion to the child pushed me to the sidelines, making me feel like I had vanished from her life.
The moment Celeste, with her first love and the child, were together, they seemed to become their own family.
Whenever I pressed her for answers, she would respond with a cold dismissal, “Look, Oliver, I'm too tired. Can you not bother me?”
“For Pete's sake, it’s already midnight! What else do you want to say?”
“Why are you being so dramatic?”
Back then, she would settle into my arms and murmur, “Oliver, my love, we’ve been together forever. Whatever issues come up, we need to talk them through and work them out. We can’t keep things bottled up. No matter how late it gets, I promise I’m always here to listen.”
But everything had been turned upside down.
What she said back then felt like sand slipping through my fingers.
It dawned on me that Celeste’s affection for children was so intense since we, as a couple, couldn’t have our own and had thrown herself into someone else’s child.
Despite all our efforts for years, we still couldn’t have a child.
As I was confused, Celeste and I went to the hospital for tests. But when the results came back clean, with nothing wrong on either side, I was left at a loss, scratching my head in disbelief.
If everything was fine, then why couldn't Celeste get pregnant?
While searching for answers, I stumbled upon contraceptive pills in the trash can, and suddenly, everything made sense.
Taken aback, I was hit by the realization of the truth.
She valued her first love’s child more than the thought of us having one of our own, secretly taking the pills without me knowing.
I was only her husband, which meant nothing but a substitute.
Only if that transpired back then, I knew I would have spent nights in tears, drowning in pain and wondering if all my sacrifices didn't mean anything to her.
But then again, I had cancer. The doctor once revealed I had three months left and didn't have much time to lament.
As the days went by, I went to the hospital for a check-up. The doctor had advised me to call a family member to update them on my condition.
My wife, Celeste, was the only one I had, so I called her, but she didn’t answer despite my repeated attempts.
I kept calling, and on the seventh attempt, she finally answered. Relief washed over me, but it quickly faded upon hearing her cold response.
“What is it? If you have something to say, make it quick,” she snapped, her words sharp and impatient.
My smile faded, but I still said, "Celeste, I’m sick. I have stomach cancer..."
Before I could say anything more, she cut me off, her voice filled with anger. "Can you stop pretending just to get sympathy? Seriously, you're pulling these childish tricks like I'm going to fall for them!" She sighed and was frustrated. "You know how important this is for Conan—he's trying to get into a top prestigious school. I can’t just leave him for this."
Her voice grew colder. "If you put as much effort into working as you do into lying, maybe you wouldn’t still be stuck in that same small job after all these years."
Chapter 2"At your age, still lying like that, how are you this shameless?" She snorted, her voice filled with sarcasm. "Let me make this clear, I can’t let anything interfere with Conan’s studies right now."
Then, with no sign of interest, she added, "If you want to die, just do it somewhere else, so you don’t bother me."
A heavy silence settled between us, and I could hear Celeste's voice on the other end. She murmured, “Conan, don’t be scared. It’s all that bad person’s fault.”
With a quiet sigh, I set my phone aside, keeping my composure. Maybe I had simply grown numb to the way she treated me, so the sting didn’t cut as deep anymore.
But the truth lingered; I still found myself, at times, imagining them close again, even if it meant reopening old wounds behind closed doors.
One of the reasons I kept coming up with ways to pull Celeste back was hoping she would find her way into my arms again.
But now, as I lay on the brink of death, the realization hit me like a slap; how foolish I had been back then. I had nearly lost all sense of dignity, becoming nothing more than a man who bent to Celeste's every whim, terrified she would push me away.
But the worst was still to come. When I got home and opened the door, I saw Noah and Celeste, hand in hand on the sofa, looking every bit like a genuine couple.
Sitting across from them was an unfamiliar middle-aged woman who looked up at me, her expression a blend of wide-eyed surprise and curiosity.
“Um, Mr. Quinn, Miss Morgan, who is this man?” she asked, her gaze shifting between us.
I caught the flash of panic in Celeste’s eyes. She immediately pulled her hand away from Noah's grasp, saying, “Oh, he’s just Conan’s uncle.”
The woman on the side was taken aback but regained her composure, smiling as if she already knew, saying, “Ah, I see. You must be quite close if the uncle has a key to the house.”
For an instant, Noah nodded and, with a reassuring tone, added, “Yeah! Ms. Jones, you might not know, but he’s staying with us, too.”
When I saw them, it hit me like a ton of bricks; the woman was a staff member from the prestigious private school they wanted Conan to attend. Getting into such a prestigious school wasn’t just about excellent students but also the right connections.
My abrupt arrival seemed to cast a shadow over their moment, and her gaze turned cold, brimming with unspoken warnings.
On the brink of collapse and beyond fear, I refused to be drawn into their game. With a defiant edge in my voice, I exclaimed, “I don’t recall having a nephew!”
“And by the way, this is my home. Everyone, please leave,” I declared.
The very moment I uttered, it seemed the room was about to be chaotic.
When Celeste tried to argue, I cut her off before she could get a word in. There was no need for a debate; the truth was on my side.
Without hesitation, I headed straight to the bedroom, grabbed the property deed, and tossed it onto the table. The document, boldly displaying Celeste’s and my names, spoke for itself.
Upon seeing the papers, the middle-aged woman’s expression hardened as she grasped the gravity of the situation.
With a final, cutting remark that Conan’s admission couldn't be pushed through, Celeste seethed with rage at me.
Observing their anxious faces, I didn't feel on cloud nine. Instead, a deep sadness settled over me, overshadowing any sense of victory.
As the middle-aged woman came out and faded from sight, Celeste, her face in a fit of rage, stormed up to me. “Oliver, are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how much effort I put into getting Conan into this school? You’ve ruined everything!”
I stood my ground and wasn't disheartened by her outburst.
“I promised that once Conan was settled in a top junior high, I’d devote all my time to you. Why are you sabotaging this now?” she asked, her voice steady despite the chaos. “Do you want to drive me crazy?”
I watched the scene with calm composure, wishing I could have the old Celeste who once loved me. Still, things turned upside down, making it impossible to transpire.
No, she was no longer the same Celeste I knew. Everything changed from her; even her affection for me seemed to fade.
Back then, she had vowed that she would return to me once Conan was accepted into a prestigious school.
She went so far as to claim there was nothing between her and Noah, just that Noah Quinn, her first love, had become a man who couldn’t even manage his affairs or look after his son.
Chapter 3Celeste had told me the same thing before. She once urged me to be patient, promising that I should understand and wait once Conan was in fourth grade, then fifth grade, which was crucial for him.
But as days turned into years, she considered everyone but me. I was left in the shadows, as if I had never been part of her plans or mattered to her, regardless of my feelings or thoughts.
If it had not been for my cancer diagnosis, I might have been left waiting. But by then, patience was a luxury I could no longer afford. With death looming on the horizon, I simply didn’t have the time to wait any longer.
With those thoughts in my mind, I pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. I hadn’t touched a cigarette since she claimed to dislike the smell, but now I felt an urge to puff away, even if it meant blowing smoke right in her face.
Standing before her, I fixed my gaze on her, but my mind wandered to another version of Celeste, who had been kind, gentle, and cared for me more deeply than anyone else could.
Back then, life had played a cruel hand; abandoned by my parents as a baby, I had been left in the care of an orphanage. That night, as the snow fell heavily outside, the director told me that if they hadn’t found me, I might have succumbed to the cold.
From a young age, I knew I was on my own, with no shoulder to lean on. I had to pull myself up by my bootstraps and work tirelessly to succeed.
With determination, I studied harder, earned a spot at a prestigious university, and met Celeste, whose vibrant energy and always saw a smile on her face.
Well, back then, I was a guy who was naturally reserved and kept to myself, shying away from socializing.
On the other hand, Celeste was a whirlwind of energy who slowly stepped into my world, first as a friend, and when we both felt the same feelings, we became lovers.
With a gentle kiss on my forehead, she would whisper, “Silly, you’re not alone anymore.”
Her eyes would shine as she declared, “I love you, forever.”
“They say men should protect women from the storm,” she’d continue, her voice steady and reassuring, “but I’m not concerned about that. I just want to shield you from all the unhappiness and frustration life might throw at us.”
I was convinced those were the happiest days of my life; seeing her made my world complete. Yet, fate delighted in its cruel twists. When her first lover came back, all of it shattered into pieces, stripping away my joyous moment in the blink of an eye.
When I regained my composure, I stated firmly, “Let’s get a divorce.”
Celeste’s eyes flared with frustration as she snapped, “Not this again, trying to force my hand!”
She sighed heavily and pushed her hair back in irritation. “We’re talking about Conan’s education right now, not about us or this divorce. Let’s keep our focus where it belongs.”
“Whether he gets in or not, why should I care? If he means so much to you, then agree with the divorce. I can make sure you two stay together,” I shot back, seeing no other way to clear the confusion clouding my mind.
Fed up, I continued, “If you don’t agree to the divorce, I can promise you won’t achieve a thing.”
“Celeste,” I said with a steely edge, “you know how I am. When I say something, I will do it without hesitation.”
“You’re out of your mind!” Celeste screamed at the top of her lungs.
Without wasting another moment, she turned on her heel and rushed after the private school teacher who had already exited.
As Celeste hurried away, Noah approached me, his face a mask of fury. “Oliver, do you really want to sabotage my son’s future? Does that make you happy?”
“Absolutely,” I shot back, smirking. “I’d be much happier if it did.”
His anger shook like a leaf as he glared at me. However, he quickly composed himself and said, “Do you really think this will help you win Celeste back? Dream on!”
With a smirk, he added, “As a man, I can only feel sorry for you. You can’t even manage your own wife and keep coming to me for answers. If I were in your shoes, I would have ended my life.”