Chapter 6: The Price of Staying

The next morning, I woke before sunrise.

My body felt weaker than it had the day before, but my mind was strangely clear.

Maisie had left before I woke up.

There was no note, no message, and no sign that she had ever brought me those honey-glazed chicken wings.

I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the empty space beside me.

For years, I had thought this house was our home.

Now it felt more like a waiting room.

A place where I was supposed to remain until my life finally ran out.

My phone vibrated.

It was Dr. Carson.

"Tristan, I need you to come in today."

I looked at the clock. "Is something wrong?"

"Your latest results came back. We need to discuss them in person."

His voice was careful.

I already knew what that meant.

I had been avoiding the hospital because I knew what the doctors would say.

Still, I forced myself to get dressed and drove there.

After another round of examinations, Dr. Carson sat across from me with a file in his hands.

"The disease has progressed significantly," he said.

I stared at him without speaking.

"Without treatment, you may only have a few months."

A bitter smile appeared on my face.

"A few months?"

"That's our estimate."

I lowered my eyes.

A few months was longer than I had expected.

Maybe that was enough time.

Enough time to settle my affairs.

Enough time to make sure Maisie would never have to see me again.

Dr. Carson hesitated before asking, "Are you sure you don't want to reconsider the treatment?"

"I can't afford it."

"There are financial assistance programs."

"I know."

I had already looked into them.

But even if I could get the medicine, I didn't know if I wanted to spend the rest of my life fighting just to return to the same house and the same woman who had already replaced me.

When I left the hospital, I didn't go home immediately.

I drove to the small apartment I had rented before marrying Maisie.

It had been empty for years.

I still had the keys.

The place smelled dusty, but when I opened the curtains, sunlight poured through the windows.

For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe.

I sat on the floor and opened an old box filled with photographs.

There were pictures of Maisie and me from college.

Our first apartment.

Our first vacation.

The day she had proposed.

The day we had signed our marriage papers.

In every photograph, we were smiling.

I wondered when that smile had disappeared.

My phone vibrated again.

This time, it was Maisie.

"Where are you?"

I stared at the message for a long time before replying.

"Out."

Her next message came almost immediately.

"Come home."

I almost laughed.

After years of not caring where I was, she suddenly wanted to know where I had gone.

Then another message appeared.

"We need to talk."

I typed three words.

"About what?"

Her reply took several minutes.

"About us."

I looked around the empty apartment.

There was nothing left to discuss.

But something told me Maisie wasn't going to let me disappear quietly.

That evening, when I finally returned home, I found her sitting in the living room.

She was alone.

Her eyes immediately locked onto me.

"Where have you been?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

Her voice was sharper than usual.

"You didn't answer my calls."

"I was busy."

She stood up and walked toward me.

"Tristan, I heard what you said last night."

"Then you heard correctly."

"You said you don't love me anymore."

"I don't."

Her face went pale.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then she whispered, "You're lying."

I looked directly into her eyes.

"Why would I lie about something like that?"

"Because you want to punish me."

I shook my head.

"Maisie, you already punished me enough."

Her eyes reddened.

"Then why did you marry me?"

The question almost broke me.

Because once upon a time, I had loved her enough to believe nothing could destroy us.

Because she had forced me back into her life when I had tried to leave.

Because I had been too weak to tell her the truth.

Because I knew I was dying and didn't want to spend my final days fighting.

But I couldn't tell her any of that.

Instead, I said quietly, "Because I was stupid."

She slapped me.

The sound echoed through the room.

I didn't move.

Maisie's hand trembled as she stared at me.

"You really hate me now, don't you?"

I touched the corner of my mouth and tasted blood.

"No."

She looked surprised.

I gave her a tired smile.

"Hating you would require me to still care."

Her eyes filled with tears.

She turned away quickly, as if she didn't want me to see them.

Then her phone rang.

She looked at the screen.

Dash.

She hesitated.

I pointed toward the door.

"Go."

"Tristan—"

"Go to him."

She stared at me.

For the first time, she looked frightened.

"What are you planning?"

I smiled faintly.

"Nothing."

That was the truth.

I wasn't planning revenge.

I wasn't planning to expose her.

I wasn't even planning to fight for my marriage.

I was planning to disappear before my body forced me to.

Maisie left without another word.

I watched the door close behind her.

Then I walked upstairs and opened the drawer where I kept our marriage certificate.

I placed it on the table.

Tomorrow, I would begin the process of ending our marriage.

And this time, Maisie wouldn't be able to force me to stay.