He Thought I Died of Cancer

On our eighth anniversary, my boyfriend and I joined a tour group to visit a remote mountain range, only to be caught in a sudden avalanche.

Amidst the chaos and panic, our group scrambled into a narrow cave. As the hours ticked by, hopelessness settled over us like a suffocating shroud. Eventually, the guide handed out scraps of paper and pens, telling us to write our final letters.

I leaned in, my heart aching, wondering what beautiful, tragic final words he would write for me. But as his pen touched the paper, the first name he wrote was my best friends.

"Grace. It took facing death to finally see clearly: you are, and always have been, the quiet moonlight of my soul."

"If I dont make it out of here alive, and if someone ever finds my remains, please take this letterand my ashesto her."

What followed were pages of tender, agonizingly detailed instructions.

"You have low blood sugar, remember to keep a piece of chocolate in your coat pocket."

"Your cramps get terrible; always keep a heating pad in your purse."

"You struggle with insomnia, so keep your phone far from the bed before you sleep."

Three whole pages. 1,537 words. And not a single mention of my name.

In the face of death, his deepest truths had finally spilled onto the page. But they were not meant for me.

My voice trembled as I confronted him, whispering, "Why?"

"At the end of my life, I dont want to lie to myself anymore," he said, his eyes casting downward. "Besides, you get to die right here by my side. What more could you possibly want?"

Nobody expected the rescue team to find us. But they did.

In a flurry of tears and hysterical laughter, everyone tore up their final letters, scattering the scraps like confetti. I didnt follow suit. I quietly folded the paper covered with my boyfriend's and best friend's names and slipped it into my pocket.

My prognosis was grim anyway; whether it was a sudden departure or a slow fade, I figured I could always rewrite it later. It might still come in handy.

When our flight finally touched down in the middle of the night, the rain was pouring like a deluge.

Grace was waiting at the terminal. The moment she saw us, she sprinted forward. Austin quickened his pace to meet her, catching her in a desperate, crushing embrace. The stoic tension he had maintained throughout the entire ordeal finally shattered, and he began to sob openly against her shoulder.

"Grace, the only reason I held on... the only reason I kept breathing was because of you."

Her face buried in his chest, her voice cracked with emotion. "You two scared me to death. I thought Id lost you forever. Promise me, no more climbing. No more snowy mountains."

She used the words "you two," but her eyes were locked entirely on him, brimming with a devotion that excluded the rest of the world.

He gently stroked her back, his voice softening to a soothing whisper. "Okay. Anything you say."

Outside, the rain lashed against the glass as they held each other in the crowded terminal, looking for all the world like a pair of star-crossed lovers reunited by fate. I stood a few paces behind, struggling with our heavy luggage, soaked and utterly pathetic. I didn't know whether to step forward or disappear into the crowd. I was a ghost, a redundant bystander in my own life.

It seemed the desperate longing in Austin's letter was far from one-sided.

Grace finally noticed me. She flinched as if burned, pulling back from his arms. "Chloe, are you okay?" She reached out to take my hand.

I took a step back, letting her fingers grasp empty air.

Her hand froze in midair, a flicker of panic crossing her face. "Are you mad at me for ignoring you? I... I was just so overwhelmed..."

"How long has this been going on?" my voice was quiet, stripped of any anger.

Graces face went entirely pale. She whirled her head toward Austin, her eyes wide with terror.

Austin rubbed the bridge of his nose, exhaling a heavy sigh. "She knows."

"You told her?" she cried, hitting his chest in a panic. "We agreed to keep it a secret forever! How... how am I supposed to look her in the eye now?"

"When did it start?" I interrupted, keeping my voice steady.

She froze, her eyes welling with fresh tears as she stammered, unable to find the words.

"Chloe, do you really have to make a scene here?" Austin interjected, smoothly pulling Grace behind him. His face hardened. "She drove all this way in a torrential storm just to pick us up. Don't be so unreasonable."

He took Grace's hand and guided her toward the exit. "I'll drop her off first. You can take a cab."

Grace tugged on his sleeve, whispering, "Maybe I should take an Uber. There's so much luggage, how is she supposed to handle it all by herself?"

"She's fine, shes always been independent," Austin said, his tone casual and unbothered. "Besides, she needs some time alone to clear her head."

I watched the two most important people in my life walk away together, their figures blurring into the rainy night. I stood frozen for a long time. My chest felt hollow, a cavernous space where the cold wind blew right through, leaving only ice in its wake.

By the time I hauled all the bags through the rain and into our apartment, I was soaked to the bone. Within hours, my body temperature spiked to over a hundred and two.

I dialed Austin's number. "I have a fever."

"Don't waste your breath making up excuses, Chloe. I'm not coming home tonight," his voice was sharp with impatience. "And even if you do have a fever, go to the clinic. What do you expect me to do about it? I'm not your nurse. Grace said our dynamic doesn't have to change. You should be grateful for that. Stop bothering me over nothing."

I listened to the dial tone, staring blankly at the screen. A strange, surreal numbness washed over me. For years, I had been conditioned to call him first, for absolutely everything, big or small.

Eight years ago, when he asked me to be his girlfriend, he had made a solemn vow: "From this day on, if you call, no matter where I am or what Im doing, I will answer. I will always come to you."

And for a long time, he kept that promise. Whether I was caught in a sudden downpour without an umbrella, or away on a business trip just missing his voice, he would fly to my side. How could that Austin vanish so completely overnight?

A notification lit up my phone. Grace had posted an update. It was a photo of a steaming bowl of spiced ginger tea, rich with honey.

"No matter how fierce the storm, there is always someone to keep me warm."

But that tea was supposed to be mine. It was always my remedy.

"Chloe, you're the only person in this world I'd ever step into a kitchen for."

Outside, a sudden crack of thunder shook the windowpanes, making the whole world feel incredibly fragile. I sat in the darkness, unable to tell if the dampness on my face was leftover rainwater or my own tears. There was nothing left to deny. He hadn't changed; he had simply packed up all his tenderness and devotion and moved them into someone elses heart. The last lingering shred of hope evaporated into the night air.

A sharp, blinding spasm of stomach pain tore through my thoughts, jolting me back to reality. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead as I forced myself to sit up and unlock my phone. I composed a text to a contact I hadn't messaged in months.

"I agree to go abroad for the clinical trial of the new treatment. I accept all the risks and consequences."

The reply came almost instantly.

"Are you absolutely sure, Chloe? Under palliative care, we could stretch this out for a few more months. If the experimental surgery fails, you might never wake up from the table."

"Im sure," I typed back.

I had once wanted to spend my final days by Austin's side, holding onto whatever time we had left. Now, there was no point.

"Understood. I will come get you in three days."

It wasn't until the third day of my raging fever that I saw Austin again. It happened at the hospital, right outside the OB-GYN wing. He was standing there with Grace.

My hand shook as I signed my own discharge papers, and a sudden, quiet tear escaped down my cheek.

Grace caught sight of me and hurried over, reaching up to gently wipe my tear away. "Chloe, please don't get the wrong idea. I had some terrible menstrual cramps, and he just brought me in to get checked out." She threw a quick, meaningful glance over her shoulder at Austin. "Right, Austin?"

Austin offered a low, murmured assent, but the raw worry in his eyes when he looked at her was impossible to hide.

I stared at Grace through my blurred vision, my gaze fixed on her. I was terrified that if I blinked, the girl who used to cry whenever I cried would vanish forever.

When we were five, a boy at the children's home tried to steal my bread roll. Grace had charged at him, shoving him away and standing in front of me like a tiny, fierce shield.

At twelve, when a group of older girls cornered me in the school bathroom, she had burst in, grabbed my hand, and run. Her palm had been slick with sweat, but her grip was unyielding.

At eighteen, she had secretly skipped the college entrance exams. When I wept over her ruined future, she had shrugged it off with a grin. "Im not cut out for college anyway, Chloe. It's just a waste of money. Id rather start working double shifts to help pay for your tuition. Besides, you have Austin to look after you now. Im not worried."

Having Grace as my best friend was the proudest achievement of my youth. I never could have imagined we would end up in a place this humiliating. Yet, she looked at me now with genuine worry, acting as though nothing had ever changed between us.

"Why are you at the hospital, Chloe? Are you sick?"

"Just a cold," I muttered, not wanting to say more as I turned to leave.

But she slipped her arm through mine, laughing just like she used to. "Oh, good. Austin is taking me to the theme park today. Come with us!"

That theme park. I had begged Austin to take me there dozens of times, but he had always been "too busy." I figured before I left the countryand maybe this lifeI might as well cross one last thing off my list.

After days of ceaseless rain, the sun finally broke through the clouds. Austin immediately opened an umbrella to shield Grace from the heat.

She paused, pulling me under the shade as well, offering a mock scolding. "Why are you letting Chloe stand in the sun? Don't do that again."

He blinked, offering a helpless, affectionate smile. "Got it, princess." The look in his eyes was pure, unadulterated devotion.

I didnt know what kind of peaceful illusion they were trying to maintain. Did they truly believe that acting as if everything was fine would make it so?

Inside the haunted house, when Grace shrieked in fear, Austin instinctively threw his arms around her, shielding her with a desperation that laid his feelings completely bare. When a passing actor accidentally knocked me to the ground, scraping my elbow until it bled, I looked up only to see the back of his jacket as he rushed after her.

He protected her with his front; he abandoned me with his back. The math of love was cruel and incredibly simple.

Once we emerged into the daylight, Austin suddenly got a playful glint in his eye. He snuck up behind Grace and yelled, scaring her so badly she laughed and punched his arm. He raised his hands in mock surrender, both of them dissolving into giggles, their eyes locking with an intimacy that I had spent years refusing to see.

Whenever they had been overly close in the past, I had always rationalized it. We grew up in the same group home; they were childhood friends. But standing there, I realized my entire life had been a masterclass in self-delusion.

The scarf he "happened to grab" for her when he brought me a coat. The birthday gifts he bought her to "keep things fair" on my special day. The photos of meals he would text her, promising to take her there next time. Every single detail had been a breadcrumb, pointing to the truth.

When we got tired, Austin went to buy drinks. Grace pulled me down onto a park bench, her smile strained.

"Chloe, I want to be your maid of honor next month. Austin is actually really invested in the wedding. Hes been asking me for advice on all the details. Don't be mad at him, okay?"

I managed a faint smile. So he actually remembered we were getting married. Yet, only this morning, the wedding planner had called me: "Ms. Foster, we need to secure the deposit for the venue. Mr. Ward hasn't replied to any of our messages. Are we rescheduling?"

I took a deep breath, a profound, crushing exhaustion settling deep into my bones.

"Chloe, we're still best friends for life, right?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

I remained silent.

She wrapped her arms around me, her voice trembling with unshed tears. "We are, right? Nothing changes between us."

I looked over her shoulder. Austin was walking back toward us, holding Grace's favorite ice cream and a bottle of tea. There was nothing in his hands for me.

"Everything has changed."

My hands curled into tight fists at my sides. I didn't hug her back.

Grace let out a choked sob. Hearing her cry, Austin rushed forward, shoving me aside so hard I fell off the bench. He pulled her into his chest, carefully wiping away her tears. When he looked down at me sitting on the gravel, his face was contorted with disgust and blame.

"Chloe, its been three days! Have you still not gotten over this?" he hissed. "For the sake of her friendship with you, she was willing to ask for nothing, to stay in the shadows as the other woman just so she wouldn't lose you. How can you be so cruel to her? The wedding is still happening. What more do you want?"

Staring at his furious face, he felt cold and entirely unfamiliar. This wasn't the boy who had beaten up my bullies in high school. This wasn't the man whose face had flushed red when he asked me out, or who had knelt on one knee, swearing that I was the only woman he would ever love.

The old Austin had loved me with a fierce, undivided heart. The man standing before me had split his soul in two. And I had no interest in a tarnished love, or a marriage built on scraps.

A sudden spasm of pain clawed at my stomach. I pushed myself up from the gravel, my voice dry and hollow. "The wedding is off. Were done, Austin."

For a second, Austins face went entirely blank. "What kind of game are you playing?"

Grace broke away from his embrace, sobbing. "It's my fault. I never should have come back to the States. I'll leave. I'll go back."

His expression shattered. He frantically grabbed her hand. "Chloe, what is this cheap reverse-psychology trick? Are you trying to ruin her life again?"

He glared at me, his jaw clenched. "Do you have any idea why she left the country back then? It was because I confessed my feelings to "you". She couldn't bear to watch us, and she fled because she loved me too much to stay."

I froze, a high-pitched ringing filling my ears.

Back in college, right after Austin and I started dating, Grace had suddenly married a wealthy older man and disappeared overseas. None of us knew that the man already had a family in Europe. She spent years trapped in a lie before discovering the truth. When she confronted him, he kicked her out onto the street with nothing but a one-way ticket back home.

A year ago, if I hadn't spotted her, disheveled and scavenging for food near a dumpster, she would have starved to death. The apartment she lived in now was paid for with my money. The funds in her bank account came from my paychecks.

I had never asked for anything in return. I did it because she was my sister, the only family I had left, and I wanted to give her the world. I had thought Austin felt the same way, helping her out of shared history. How naive of me. For him, it had started as guilt, turned into pity, and festered into love.

Looking at the wreckage of our lives, I couldn't even tell whose fault it was anymore. We were just pieces caught in the gears of a cruel machine.

I forced a dry laugh. "Then I wish you two a very happy life together."

As I turned to walk away, a flash of movement caught my eye. A feral, foaming dog was hurtling toward us, its bared teeth snapping. In a split second, I remembered a local news alert about rabid strays in the area. I was terrified of dogs, but instinct took overI lunged forward to shield Grace. But in my panic, my foot caught on a root, and I stumbled heavily toward her.

At that exact moment, Austin's furious roar clashed with the dog's vicious barking. "Chloe, what the hell are you doing?!"

Before I could steady myself, I was violently shoved aside. I hit the dirt, and a searing, white-hot agony tore through my right calf. The stray had clamped its teeth into my leg, tearing at the flesh. Screaming in pain, I kicked out wildly, hitting the dog's snout until it released me and fled into the bushes.

Austin was already standing over Grace, holding her tightly. He glared down at me, chest heaving with rage. "When did you become so malicious? You tried to push her in front of you as a shield?!"

It was only as the words left his mouth that his gaze drifted down to my mangled, bloody leg. His pupils contracted in horror. "Chloe... you..." He froze, slowly bending down to reach for me.

Suddenly, Grace let out a sharp cry of pain, clutching her abdomen as she collapsed onto the grass.

Austin froze. He instantly spun away from me. "Grace! What's wrong?!" He scooped her into his arms, frantic, and began sprinting toward the street to hail a cab.

I watched his retreating figure, my voice barely a whisper in the wind. "Austin... it hurts so bad..."

But his entire universe was centered on Grace. My cries never reached his ears.

Behind him, another pool of blood began to seep into the dry earth. It wasn't coming from my leg. I hacked violently, coughing up thick, dark blood. The agonizing fire in my stomach flared to life, hotter and sharper than before.

I lay there alone, gasping for air like a fish stranded on dry land, watching the yellow taxi speed away, kicking up a cloud of dust that settled over my face, my clothes, and my broken heart.

It was a kind stranger who eventually drove me to the emergency room. The doctors patched up my leg and administered a rabies shot, but when they saw me coughing up blood, their expressions turned grim.

While waiting for my lab results, I spotted Austin in the hospital corridor. He was pacing back and forth outside an examination room. The moment the door opened, he lunged forward.

"Doctor, how are my wife and the baby?"

The doctor adjusted his glasses. "The mother and fetus are stable for now, but we need to keep her for observation. I suggest admitting her."

Austin let out a massive sigh of relief and hurried off to fill out the paperwork. I sat on a plastic chair nearby, my entire body turning to ice.

Six months ago, Grace had been dragged into an alley by a drunk. I had run to find her, stumbling right into the nightmare. The man had raised a knife to slash her, and I had thrown my body over hers. The blade plunged into my lower abdomen, releasing a torrent of blood. I survived the ICU, but the damage was irreversible. I had to undergo an emergency hysterectomy.

When Grace wept by my bedside, I was the one comforting her. "It's okay, we're alive. The worst that happens is I'll just be the godmother to your kids."

Austin had stood in the corner, his face pale and unreadable. Later, I found him sobbing in the hospital stairwell. I had tried to lighten the mood. "What, are you going to dump me now because I can't have kids?"

"Don't talk like that," he had choked out, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. "I almost lost you... I don't care about kids, Chloe. I only want you. I will never have a child with anyone else."

His vow had felt so solid, so incredibly warm. I had believed him. I didn't know then that promises carry an expiration date. His had lasted exactly six months.

The lab results finally came back, and the doctors face instantly dropped. "Its gastric cancer, and the trauma has triggered an acute stomach perforation! We need to operate immediately!" he turned to the head nurse. "Our hospital doesn't have the specialized equipment for this complex of a case. Theres a brilliant young specialist who just got back from Europehe has the expertise we need. Quick, get her family to sign the transfer papers! If we wait any longer, she won't make it!"

The nurse leaned over my gurney. "Ma'am, where is your family?"

The pain in my abdomen was a white-hot blade. I curled into a ball, coughing up another dark splatter of blood. "I don't have any family..." I whispered.

"Search her phone for emergency contacts!" the doctor urged.

The nurse found the number. It took thirteen consecutive calls before the line finally clicked open.

"Hello?" Austin's voice sounded exhausted.

"Hello, this is the municipal hospital emergency room..."

"I'm already at the hospital," Austin interrupted, his voice spiking with panic. "Is there something wrong with Grace's lab results?"

"Grace? No, we're calling about Chloe Foster," the nurse said rapidly. "Are you her next of kin? Her stomach cancer has progressed rapidly, and she has a perforated stomach. We need you to sign her transfer papers immediately!"

"Chloe? Cancer?" Austins voice instantly turned cold. "She had a scrape on her leg. Now shes inventing stomach cancer?"

In the background, I could hear Grace's whimpering voice. "Austin, my stomach hurts so bad... can you call a nurse? Go check on Chloe, really, I'll be fine by myself..."

"Nurse! I need a nurse!" Austin shouted into the room, ignoring the phone. Then, his voice softened into a gentle, soothing coo. "Don't worry, sweetie. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

Once the nurse in their room reassured him, he spoke back into his phone, his tone dripping with disgust. "Tell Chloe to stop acting. I don't have time for her drama."

"Sir, this is not a drill!" the nurse yelled back, her voice cracking with desperation. "The patient is in critical condition! We just need your signature"

"Why does she always have to be so incredibly high-maintenance?" Austin snapped, his patience entirely gone. "Tell her that once her leg is bandaged, she needs to stay in her room. I'll drop by when I have a minute. If she keeps pulling these pathetic stunts, the wedding is off. And let her knowsince she doesn't know yetGrace is pregnant with my child. If Chloe behaves herself, she can still be the godmother. Unless she's literally dead, don't call me again."

The call went dead.

The nurse stared at the screen, then looked down at me with profound pity. I stared up at the sterile, white ceiling, a tear of blood and sorrow leaking from the corner of my eye.

More than twenty years of shared life, and it ended like this. He had blinded himself to my agony, completely indifferent to whether I lived or died. As my vision began to darken, I closed my eyes, letting the blackness take me.

Grace eventually drifted off to sleep. Austin stepped out into the quiet hallway and answered a call from the wedding planner.

"Mr. Ward, are we moving forward with the ceremony? The venue's hold expires in an hour."

"Yes," he replied without a second thought. "I'll wire the deposit right now."

After completing the transaction, Chloe finally crossed his mind. He walked down the corridor to her room and pushed the door open.

The bed was empty, the sheets stripped.

He frowned, pulled out his phone, and typed a quick, annoyed text. "Why can't you just stay put? Do you really need me to cause a scene and hunt you down to feel special?"

The message went through, but there was no read receipt, no reply. A strange, cold prickle of worry brushed against his chest. He grabbed a passing nurse by the arm.

"Where is the patient from this room?"

The nurse, recognizing his voice from the phone call earlier, gave him a freezing look. "Shes dead," she said flatly, pulling her arm away.

Austins face drained of color, turning instantly white.