Chapter 2
Cara kept calling Curtis "honey" over and over, and just a moment ago, they were wrapped around each other like a couple.
I was the one who should be feeling betrayed.
And on top of that, Curtis slapped me for no reason.
I never thought he'd actually hook up with Cara again.
Judging by the way things looked, this had been going on for a while.
He was whispering sweet nothings to me while playing the perfect boyfriend to Cara.
He was a real pro at juggling his time, wasn't he?
Curtis finally pulled his hand back and snorted coldly at me.
Noticing I wasn't on guard, Cara snatched the medical report right out of my hand.
I sneered inwardly.
I deliberately let her take it.
Now I wanted to see how Curtis would respond.
"Aurora, how could you have stomach cancer at such a young age?" Cara gasped, covering her mouth, looking genuinely shocked.
I looked at Curtis, whom I once loved. Upon hearing I had stomach cancer, his face showed no trace of pain—just a trace of pleasure.
He wanted me dead.
The moment this thought surfaced, a shiver ran down my spine.
Was that it?
I couldn't quite bring myself to believe it.
Curtis snatched the medical report—the one that decided my fate—and only relaxed when he saw my name, Aurora Bernard, printed on it.
"At least it's not an abortion," he said.
That casual remark froze me in place.
It didn't matter that I had cancer.
As long as his manhood wasn't threatened, nothing else mattered.
His cold attitude now made my earlier desperation upon getting the results look utterly stupid.
There was still something gnawing at me that I couldn't put into words.
"Curtis, I never cheated on you. What right do you have to hit me?" I demanded.
"I already hit you, so what? Isn't it just what men do?" Curtis sneered at me with a look of disdain.
Whatever lingering feelings I had for him vanished in that instant.
It was still the same face, but everything about him felt unfamiliar now.
I took a half step back, and for a moment, I couldn't even tell who he was anymore.
Was this really the Curtis I used to know?
Back then, he was always so respectful and caring towards me.
It just made sense for us to be together.
Then my father, Daryl Mercer, got sick, and Curtis was running himself ragged for him, never once complaining.
I saw all the effort he put in, all the sacrifices he made.
I was worried he'd burn himself out, so I wanted to hire a caregiver.
But he stopped me. "Aurora, I'm fine. Taking care of your dad is the least I can do as your boyfriend. It's my way of making up for marrying the daughter he cherished for twenty-eight years."
But now, the man standing before me looked like a total stranger—nothing like the Curtis I used to know.
Was this really him?
Or was the person I fell for just a mask, and this cold stranger is who he truly is?
He kept his arm wrapped around Cara's waist, acting like I didn't exist, shot me a dismissive glance, and flung the medical report at my feet.
Just like a drifting leaf, the paper spun down through the air—and with it, my heart, once beating for him, sank to the ground.
"Aurora, don't think for a second I'll spend a dime on your treatment. It's cancer—there's no cure for that." Curtis sneered.
"And with that measly paycheck of yours, you can't even afford chemo. You might as well get your affairs in order and make the most of whatever time you have left," he added.
He smirked, looking downright gleeful at my misfortune. "If you want to spend your last days in peace, don't even think about going against me."
With that, Curtis wrapped his arm around Cara and strutted off without a second glance.
He drove away in the car we bought together, not even looking back.
I stood there, rooted to the spot, wondering if changing the name on that report had been the right thing to do after all.
*****
When I got home, I found my stuff dumped all over the floor outside the master bedroom.
They were all in a mess, just like the trash in a dump.
My blood pressure shot through the roof.
What the hell was this supposed to mean?
Curtis was dumping a pile of my clothes onto the floor. When he saw me walk in, he pointed at the mess and said, "Just in time. Pack up your stuff and move it to the guest room yourself."
"I'm not sharing a bed with someone who has cancer. What if your bad luck rubs off on me? That stuff's impossible to shake."
He gave me a look that screamed disgust.
On the way home, my mind was racing.
How did Curtis turn into someone like this?