An Acceptable Loss
Well, now. Cancer.
I calmly asked the doctor just three questions.
“How long does someone in his condition have?”
“Would drinking and smoking every day make it worse, faster?”
“And what if he’s also trying to have a baby, with…you know, zero restraint?”
1
Ethan Shaw was a very busy man.
So busy that when his own medical reports were ready, it was me who went to collect them.
At that exact moment, his secretary, Jenna, was on the phone with me.
The girl was practically sobbing. “Claire, aren’t you going to do anything about Mr. Shaw?”
I scanned the details of Ethan’s lab results, my voice placid as I dealt with her. “Jenna, does Mr. Shaw know how unprofessional you’re being?”
“But… but you’re his wife!” she choked out. “He’s messing around out there, aren’t you even angry?”
Angry?
I leaned against a quiet corner of the hospital corridor and let out a cold, quiet laugh.
If I got angry over little things like that, I would have died of rage a hundred times over by now.
I tried to summon a little patience for the girl on the other end of the line. “It’s Miss Vance’s birthday today. What’s wrong with Ethan renting an island to make her happy? For your birthday, didn’t he buy you that limited-edition handbag?”
The line went silent, then the call disconnected.
Incredible, really.
I’d never seen a mistress so shamelessly run to the wife, crying because she was losing a turf war with another mistress.
What did she expect?
That I was going to step in and play referee for them?
I really don’t have the time.
I smoothed a stray piece of hair from my forehead and returned my focus to the report in my hands.
Well, now.
Cancer.
I rubbed my eyes hard, making sure I wasn’t mistaken.
Then I sent a silent prayer of thanks to whatever deity was listening.
One of them had finally answered. My dream was coming true.
2
I took Ethan’s medical report to see my old college friend, David, who’s a doctor.
We met privately in a quiet café, tucked away in a corner booth.
I kept my head down, my expression a careful mask of melancholy and gravity.
“David, I haven’t dared to tell him yet,” I began, my voice low. “I’m afraid he won’t be able to handle it.”
David’s face was equally grim. “A lot of families feel the same way, Claire. But ultimately, we believe it’s best for the patient to know the truth.”
“No, you don’t understand.”
I made a show of dabbing at my eyes, my voice thick with contrived emotion. “I just want him to be happy right now. I want him to stay happy for as long as he has left.”
He looked at me with such sympathy, letting out a soft sigh. “Whatever you need to know, just ask. We go way back. If there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”
I took a moment to compose myself, then slowly looked up.
“How long does he have?”
“It’s hard to say. Maybe six months. Maybe a year. With aggressive treatment, maybe longer.”
Maybe longer? That wasn’t the answer I wanted.
A flicker of annoyance passed through me, but I kept my voice steady. “Will smoking every day make it worse?” I asked, then quickly corrected myself. “I’m sorry, it’s just… he has so many business dinners. If smoking is going to affect his health, I’ll try to find a way to talk him out of it.”
David looked helpless. “In his condition? He absolutely has to quit.”
Quit smoking?
Ethan? Not a chance.
I lowered my gaze again, asking my final question. “And… should we be limiting our… marital life?”
Fearing he wouldn’t understand, I added, “I still want to have a child with him. At least… at least then I’ll have a part of him with me, always.”
That did it. David’s professional composure finally cracked. “Claire, you need to prepare yourself. A child… I’m afraid that’s something you can’t force.”
And with that, a wave of profound relief washed over me.
A train wreck like Ethan Shaw.
Who in their right mind would want to have a child with him?
All I wanted was a confirmation of his expiration date.
3
I made David promise to keep this confidential, and he agreed.
I trust him.
On the drive home, every breath of air I took felt sweet.
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