The Day I Stopped Breathing, He Finally Believed
806 Views · Completed · Fuzzy Melissa
On my 25th birthday, the doctor handed me my death sentence—stage four pancreatic cancer, six months to live. The man I’d loved for seventeen years was flirting with his secretary while I coughed up blood and collapsed. He mocked me when chemo took my hair: “Even your hair is fake.” When I secretly transferred my last savings into his sports recovery fund—the very money that could’ve saved me—he t...