Chapter 2 I saw your wife cheating

I couldn’t remember the last time Bob and I had sex. I was always busy with housework, and Bob usually worked late.

I smiled slightly at the thought of the white roses he had brought me just a few mornings ago. He had worked especially late the night before, not even bothering to come home. He apologized profusely when he gave me the flowers and told me he just didn’t want to disturb me.

I mentally cursed myself. I should’ve seen the writing on the wall. I pulled the mystery man’s jacket tighter around myself and forced back my tears.

“Are you okay?” the man asked.

It must have been the millionth time he had asked me that, but damn it felt good to have someone care.

I smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

“You know, you’re actually taking this pretty well.”

“I am?”

“Yeah. I know a lot of women who, in your position, would’ve ripped their husband’s balls off.”

I giggled. “Why would I do that? I don’t have much use for them as it is.”

The man laughed. I felt years of tension ease from my shoulders at the sound.

“I can imagine. He doesn’t look like a shower or a grower.”

I laughed until I snorted. I blushed.

“I’m so sorry about that,” I murmured.

“Sorry about what? I thought it was cute. You should laugh more.”

“Yeah, it’s just…my snorting is so embarrassing…”

“No, it’s not. It’s adorable, like a little piglet.”

My blushing spread to my ears and neck. Somehow, though, I had never felt more at ease. Relaxed.

Then the man began snorting like a pig. I motioned for him to be quiet, but he only got louder. After a minute of this, I could only laugh until my sides ached.

And I snorted, too.

For once, I didn’t care.

“Hey! What’s going on down there?” Bob’s brother, Peter, shouted from a window on the second floor.

I immediately stopped laughing. My mind froze. Before I could even think to say goodbye to my companion, I ran back inside with his jacket still draped around me.

I waited until all our guests were gone and only Bob’s family and I remained. I didn’t care what people thought of Bob, but confronting him in front of others would embarrass me, too.

I found him sitting alone in his study, reading a magazine. With a deep breath, I entered the room and stood in front of him until he looked up at me.

“Yes?” he asked.

My fist clenched. Tears danced at the edges of my eyes.

“Why did you cheat on me?”

“Do you really want me to say it?”

Bob and I glared at each other in silence for a full minute before Peter and Bob’s parents barged in.

“What do you want, Peter? I’m trying to have a private conversation with my wife,” Bob spat.

“It’s about your wife.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest as he faced me. “I saw her having a rendezvous with another man in the garden.”

My jaw dropped. Bob’s face slowly turned scarlet.

“She what? When?”

“Tonight! I saw her with my own eyes. And look!”

Peter lifted his hands, and that was when I realized that he was carrying the man’s jacket. Did he go in my closet?

“What’s that?” Bob asked, his eyes never leaving me.

“The man’s jacket. She was wearing it,” Peter responded.

I should have just told them that he was a stranger, someone invited to the dinner party, but I couldn’t find my voice. I looked to Bob’s parents for support, but they glared at me as well.

“You come in here accusing me of cheating,” Bob began, “when this whole time you have been cheating on me.”

“How dare you accuse my baby of such a thing!” Bob’s mother screeched.

“And to think, you risked having your little tryst when you had guests over,” Bob’s father added.

“I…please…” I croaked.

“Just stop, Anna. I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

Bob stopped, as though considering something.

“The only thing to be done now is for Marsha to move in. The least you can do is let me take care of my child.”

My nails dug into my palm until they left imprints.

“No! There is no way that your mistress—”

“Well, maybe if you could get pregnant, then my son wouldn’t have needed to find other options,” Bob’s mother snapped. “He’s carrying a legacy on his shoulders, one that you obviously can’t help him pass on.”

I instinctively stepped towards the door, but Peter blocked her exit.

“I mean, has there always been something wrong with you?” Bob’s mother continued. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier? Just to piggyback onto our wealth?”

Tears poured down my cheeks. The gremlins ripped relentlessly at my stomach. I wanted to vomit, but I refused to give them the pleasure of seeing me so weak.

“If you want to continue to be a part of this family, you must find a doctor and get help for your infertility immediately,” Bob’s father demanded.

I could barely see Bob and his family through my watery eyes. A vein pounded in my forehead. The gremlins had climbed up my esophagus and begun clawing at my throat.

“You—”

I coughed.

“You will not—”

I coughed again.

“You will not tell me what to do with my own body—”

I coughed again. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was a mouthful of blood cradled in the palm of my hand.

I awakened to the blinding light and sterile smell of a hospital room. Medical instruments beeped loudly in my ear. I longed to silence them, but I knew that those noises meant that at least I was still alive.

I looked to my bedside to find a singular vase of carnations with a teddy bear and a get-well card. I smiled, knowing that they had come from my best friend Lily, but it wavered. The carnations only served to remind me of that adulterous florist, Marsha.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Hayes, I am Dr. Perez.” a man in a doctor’s uniform said as he approached my bed. About sixty years old, he had salt-and-pepper hair and kind, dark blue eyes. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine, I guess. Thirsty.”

“Here, let me help you.”

The doctor bent over and grabbed a glass of water from my bedside table. He helped me drink from the straw before setting it back down.

“Mrs. Hayes—”

“Please, call me Anna.”

“Anna, I’m afraid that there’s no easy way to say this. You have stomach cancer.”

I felt the color rush from my face. “I have what?”

“Stomach cancer. Now, there are a number of treatments available, but to determine the best option for you, I’m going to refer you to an oncologist…”

I nodded, only half-listening to Dr. Perez’s words. Stomach cancer? How could this have happened?

“Is there anyone you want me to call for you? Your emergency contact, perhaps?”

I shook my head quickly.

“No, no. Please, don’t tell anyone about this. Please.”

Dr. Perez’s kind eyes locked on mine, but he nodded.

A sudden knock drew our attention to the door. Bob stood in the doorframe.

“Can I help you?” Dr. Perez asked.

“I’m Anna’s husband,” Bob replied.

Dr. Perez glanced at me for permission. When I nodded, he motioned Bob to my bed.

“I was just going over your wife’s diagnosis,” Dr. Perez explained.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Bob said. He turned to me. “I want a divorce.”

Dr. Perez narrowed his eyes at Bob and slammed his pen on his clipboard.

“Excuse me, sir, but now is not the time for this. Your wife has just learned—”

“Please, Doctor, give me a minute with my husband,” I interrupted him.

Dr. Perez looked at me and, at my pleading glance, nodded.

“A nurse will be by to check on you in five minutes, and I will come back to finish our discussion before the end of the hour.”

With one last glare at Bob, Dr. Perez left us in relative privacy with only the other patient in the room.

Bob seemed about to speak when I said, “I agree to the divorce.”

Bob blinked in surprise.

“Oh. Good. Sam will be by to serve you with the papers sometime later today, I guess.”

He shifted toward the door, then turned back to face me.

“Are you moving in with that man you met with in the garden?”

“What? Why would you even think that? I just found out about the divorce.”

“Well, it seems that you’ve been cheating on me for a while now, so—”

“I have been cheating on you? Your mistress is pregnant, Bob!”

“That doesn’t mean you haven’t been showing your fat ass around town, too.” Bob huffed. “No wonder you’re like a piece of wood in bed, never letting me get off.”

I laughed dryly. “Oh, please. You didn’t give me anything to work with, with that thin little toothpick of yours. I mean, one can’t possibly react to a nonexistent gadget.”