Chapter 1
The day I died, Curtis Bernard was accompanying Edith Martinez for a prenatal checkup.
When my phone vibrated for the third time, I finally answered. Against the background noise of a hospital corridor, his voice sounded hurried.
He said, "Heidi, go home by yourself. Edith isn't feeling well, and I have to stay with her until her checkup is done."
My fingers tightened around the diagnostic report, the paper crackling sharply.
"Okay," I said, my voice eerily calm.
"Oh, right," he added, as if it had just occurred to him. "About that stomach pain you mentioned last time, did you get your results back?"
I looked down at the words on the page: [Advanced gastric cancer with multiple metastases. Estimated survival time: 3-6 months.]
"It's nothing, just chronic gastritis," I replied.
He sounded visibly relieved. "Great. Don't always scare yourself over nothing. I have to go now; she's coming out."
The line went dead.
I folded the report carefully and tucked it into the deepest pocket of my bag, like hiding away a dirty secret.
When I walked out of the hospital, the sunshine was bright, yet it cast no warmth at all on my body.
*****
Curtis didn't come home until almost dawn, his clothes reeking of hospital disinfectant and a hint of Edith's usual perfume clinging to them.
"Why are you still up?" he asked, his brows knitting as he turned on the light and saw me sitting alone in the dark.
"Waiting for you," I said.
He shrugged off his coat, his tone dismissive. "How did the check-up go today?"
"Curtis," I said. "If I died someday, would you even care?"
He paused for a moment, then laughed. "What nonsense are you talking about?"
"Would you?" I pressed.
He rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. "Heidi, I'm really tired today. Edith's showing signs of miscarriage, and she's emotionally unstable. Can you stop making a fuss?"
Curtis wouldn't even give me an answer, not even a hypothetical one.
"If I died," I continued, my voice sounding especially clear in the quiet, "would you feel even a little regret? Regret not spending more time with me? Regret not loving me a bit more?"
Curtis stood up, towering over me, impatience written all over his face. "Heidi, what do you really want?
"Are you seriously going to keep going on about this just because I went to the hospital with Edith today? She's pregnant. Can't you be a little more considerate?"
"And she's the first love you never got to be with," I said. "And she needs you now. I've been hearing that same excuse for three years."
I looked up at him. The man I had loved for seven years, married for five, was still handsome. But the spark in his eyes was gone when he looked at me.
Or maybe that spark was never meant for me. It was always for Edith. I was keeping it safe for a while, and it returned to where it truly belongs.
"Curtis," I said quietly, "let's end this marriage."
The room went quiet for a few seconds.
He let out a ridiculous laugh. "Divorce? Just because I took Edith to the hospital today?"
"These thousand days," I said. "You've always had someone else in your heart, and I've always been second to her. Curtis, I'm exhausted."
Curtis's smile disappeared, and he stared at me. "Where could you possibly go if you left me? You haven't worked in years.
"What would you even do to get by? Stop acting up; just go to sleep. Things will be fine tomorrow."
See? Even when I asked for a divorce, he thought I was just being dramatic.
"I mean it," I said, pulling the papers from the drawer and sliding them across the table. "I've already signed.
"I only want that little apartment on the south side. It belonged to my parents anyway, so it's not part of your assets."
Curtis didn't even look at the papers, just stared at me for a long moment before finally saying, "Edith's child might need a whole family.
"Her ex left her, and raising a kid alone will be tough. Even if we do get divorced, can't we wait until after the baby is born? Upsetting her now isn't good for her health."
As I listened, I suddenly felt like laughing.
In the end, he was still only thinking about Edith. My feelings, my pain, none of them mattered as much as Edith's well-being.
A sudden twist of pain hit my stomach, and I grabbed it, cold sweat breaking out on my forehead.
"What's wrong?" Curtis asked, stepping toward me.
"Nothing," I said, pulling away from his hand and forcing myself up. "Take a look at the papers. If you want to change anything, just let me know. I'm going to bed."
"Heidi," Curtis called after me.
I didn't look back, just kept going upstairs, every step feeling like I was walking on blades.
*****
Edith moved into the guest room on a weekend.
Curtis personally picked her up from the hospital, carrying in bags and boxes, mostly maternity supplies. He was attentive, showing a level of care I hadn't seen from him in a long time.
Edith wore a maternity dress, her complexion a bit pale, but her eyes were shining.
She glanced around the living room, finally settling her gaze on me, and gave me a gentle smile. "Heidi, thank you for your help."