After Terminal Cancer, My Wife Unveiled Our Family Lies

Synopsis

The consultation room at Northwestern Memorial Hospital was too bright, too sterile. I sat perfectly still in the uncomfortable chair, my fingers gripping the edges of the medical report as if it might fly away if I loosened my hold. The words blurred before my eyes, but I couldn't stop staring at them. *Advanced gallbladder cancer. Stage IV. Metastasized to the liver.* Dr. Evans' voice seemed to come from somewhere far away, though he sat directly across from me, his kind eyes filled with the practiced compassion of someone who had delivered this news too many times before. "Mrs. Hayes, I understand this is overwhelming," he said, leaning forward slightly. "The prognosis is... challenging. We're looking at months rather than years." Months. Not years. Not