Chapter 9: The Price of Waiting

The next morning, I woke up to dozens of missed calls from Maisie.

For a moment, I simply stared at her name on my screen.

Then another message appeared.

"Tristan, we need to talk. Please come home."

I almost laughed.

After years of bringing other men into our marriage, Maisie suddenly wanted me to come home.

But I had already stopped thinking of that house as my home.

I was sitting in Dr. Carson's office when my phone rang again.

"Tristan, your condition has worsened considerably," Dr. Carson said quietly. "If you want the treatment, we need the deposit today."

I looked at the figure on the document in front of me.

Three hundred thousand dollars.

The exact amount I had begged Maisie to lend me.

The exact amount she had been willing to give me only if I humiliated myself for Dash.

I shook my head.

"I won't take it."

Dr. Carson frowned. "Are you certain? This treatment could give you more time."

"I know."

I looked through the window at the people walking outside.

Everyone seemed to be moving toward tomorrow while I was slowly running out of tomorrows.

"I don't want to spend whatever time I have left begging someone who stopped loving me years ago."

Dr. Carson was silent for a long moment.

"Then what will you do?"

I smiled faintly.

"Finish everything I need to finish."

I left the hospital and went straight to the lawyer's office.

I had already prepared the divorce papers.

There was no reason to keep pretending that Maisie and I were still a married couple.

When I returned home that evening, Maisie was waiting outside the house.

She looked exhausted.

For the first time in years, she looked less like the powerful woman everyone feared and more like the girl I had once loved.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"Handling my affairs."

Her eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

I handed her the envelope.

"Read it."

She opened it and froze when she saw the divorce papers.

"You're divorcing me?"

"Yes."

Her fingers began trembling.

"Because of Dash?"

"No."

I looked directly into her eyes.

"Because of me."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means I finally realized that staying with you is costing me the little time I have left."

Her face went pale.

"What are you talking about?"

I didn't answer.

Instead, I turned toward the house.

Maisie grabbed my wrist.

"Tristan, don't walk away from me again."

I gently pulled my hand free.

"You should have said that years ago."

She stared at me, tears suddenly gathering in her eyes.

"I can change."

I smiled sadly.

"You don't have to."

"I love you."

Those three words stopped me for a moment.

Once, hearing them from Maisie would have been enough to make me forget every wound she had given me.

Now they only made my chest ache.

"You love Dash," I said quietly.

"I don't."

"Then why did you choose him every time?"

She had no answer.

I stepped inside and left her standing outside the door.

That night, I packed the few things that still mattered to me.

Our old photographs.

The first paycheck she had framed for me.

A faded receipt from the macarons I bought her after graduation.

I left behind everything else.

Before dawn, I placed the house keys on the table and walked away.

I didn't know whether I would survive another week.

But for the first time since my diagnosis, I felt strangely peaceful.

I had stopped waiting for Maisie to choose me.

Now I was choosing myself.

Three days later, my lawyer called.

"Tristan, Maisie has signed the divorce agreement."

I closed my eyes.

"Good."

"There's something else."

"What?"

"Dash has moved out of the villa she bought him. Apparently, Maisie ended their relationship."

I was silent.

"She also refused to see anyone else," my lawyer continued. "She's been asking about you."

I looked at the suitcase beside my bed.

"It's too late."

That evening, I received one final message from Maisie.

"I finally understand what I lost. Please give me one chance to make it right."

I stared at the message for a long time.

Then I deleted it.

Some regrets came too late.

And some people only realized the value of love after they had already destroyed it.