The Regret of a Cheating Husband

On the same afternoon I learned I was finally pregnant, the doctor handed me a death sentence: stage 4 stomach cancer.

I went home to tell my husband, Anderson, only to be interrupted by a call from a woman named Katlyn.

"He' s on a '100-Day Farewell Tour' with me," she gloated, "getting the fun out of his system before he comes back to his boring duty as a father."

For the next three months, I died in silence while Anderson lived his best life with her.

He blamed my weight loss on morning sickness and my vomiting on hormones, never looking closely enough to see the blood.

On my birthday, the final day of his "tour," he bought me a cake, tucked me into bed, and immediately left to celebrate their finale in a hotel room across the street.

He thought he could just flip a switch and return to our marriage when he was ready.

He didn't know that while he was whispering promises to his mistress, I was signing our divorce papers.

I terminated the pregnancy he claimed to want so badly and left the medical report on the table.

By the time he came home to play the role of the devoted husband, I was already gone.