My wife, Olivia, lost her memory unexpectedly. She forgot all about me and our daughter, Lily, and now all she wants is to get back together with her college boyfriend and marry him. She calls me a freeloader, someone living off her success. But the truth is, I took a step back in my own career, settling for a less demanding job, specifically so I could support her ambitions and take care of our family. She insists on a divorce. My friends tell me to wait, that she'll come back once her memory returns. But they don't know. They don't know that my time is running out, every single day. 1. Olivia went to Chicago for a business trip. She was supposed to be back today. She works incredibly hard. She's always wanted to be a powerhouse in her field, so I made the sacrifice. I chose a stable but quiet job that gave me more time to manage the household and be there for everything. She didn't really need to push herself so hard, though. Her family is wealthy; she could have walked into the family business right after graduation and had an easy life. But she went against her parents' wishes, insisting on marrying me – just a regular guy from a modest background, nothing special to look at. They haven't spoken since. We met in grad school. It’s been eight years since our first year. Olivia climbed the ladder from an entry-level position to a top executive. Meanwhile, I work a steady job with predictable hours, focusing on raising our daughter, Lily. Lately, I haven't been feeling well. I managed to get to the doctor for some tests. The results came back today. I held the report, my hand shaking uncontrollably. Late-stage lymphoma. It's spread throughout my body. There’s no cure, especially since the tumors have likely already metastasized. I don’t have much time left. I just can't believe it. Why me? The doctor tried to comfort me. "Mr. Hayes," he said gently, "what about your family? It would be best to have them come in so we can discuss the next steps, the treatment options. Don't worry, medical science has come a long way. There are always options." I looked up, forcing a smile. "Thank you, Doctor. My wife is out of town on business. I'll check into the hospital as soon as she gets back." 2: The Attack Nine o'clock at night. Olivia wasn't home. I called her phone. Three times. No answer. Knowing how she usually is – affectionate, a little clingy, calling me three times a day even when she travels – a terrible feeling started creeping into my gut. I immediately tried calling her assistant, Alex. Alex picked up right away. "Hey, Ethan," he said. "Uh, we ran into Olivia's parents here in Chicago. She told me to head back first. Didn't she tell you?" My stomach dropped. Olivia's parents were in Chicago too? Why hadn't she mentioned it? But I kept my voice calm. "Oh, right. I forgot. Sorry about that, Alex." "No worries, Ethan." After hanging up, I thought for a moment and sent Olivia a text: "Hey honey, did you run into your parents? Is that why you can't talk? It's okay, no worries. Just waiting for you to come home." The message went unanswered, like dropping a stone into the ocean. But I trusted her. Putting my phone down, I got Lily ready for bed, washed up, and tucked her in. Lily looked up at me with her big, round eyes, so soft and sweet. "Daddy, where's Mommy?" I tried to soothe my little princess. "Mommy's still busy with work, sweetie. You go to sleep now, and you'll see Mommy tomorrow, okay?" I reached down to pick her up, but the next second, it felt like someone smashed the back of my head with a hammer. An explosion of pain wiped out everything else. My vision went black. "Daddy! Daddy..." Lily kept calling me, her little voice shaky, on the verge of tears. I struggled to open my eyes. The back of my head still throbbed with a dull ache, like someone was tapping it with a small chisel. "...Daddy's okay." I forced myself to carry Lily to her bedroom and lay her down, then went to get some painkillers for myself. 3: She's Back Olivia was gone for a whole week. No, not exactly gone. Alex could reach her; her work continued without interruption. She was just... gone from my life. That week, I was busy researching my condition, getting prescriptions filled, taking care of Lily. I didn't have the energy to dig into the real reason for her "disappearance." Until the day she came back. And she wasn't alone. A man was with her – handsome, well-dressed, with an air of effortless charm. "Liv, this is your husband?" the man asked, looking me up and down with disdain. "So ordinary. How did you put up with him for eight years?" I clenched my jaw, ignoring him, my eyes fixed on Olivia. "Liv, what's going on?" Then my gaze fell to their hands, fingers tightly intertwined. That grip, seeing them like that, felt more suffocating than the sharpest pang of my illness. Olivia shot him a playful, scolding look before finally turning to me. "Ethan, let's get a divorce. Name your terms." She still looked so sweet, so lovely. Her career had only made her sharper, more polished. But her eyes... they were completely different, terrifyingly unfamiliar, especially when she looked at me. My throat felt tight and sore. "Honey, you want to divorce me... to be with him?" I stared at them, standing there like a couple. It took me a moment to place the man. Brandon. Olivia's first love from college, the source of four years of campus romance stories. When Olivia and I got together, she and Brandon had only been broken up for less than six months. Later, Brandon tried to get back together with her. I didn't interfere. I calmly told her that when she figured things out with Brandon, she could come find me. I don't know how she handled it, but after that, Brandon never appeared in our lives again. Until now? Olivia had always been devoted to our family, clean-cut in her professional life. I couldn't believe my wife would do something like this. I stared hard at her. "What happened to you these past few days?" Olivia scoffed. "What happened to me? What business is it of yours?" I stepped forward, reaching for her hand. "Liv..." "Don't touch me!" She recoiled as if I were something disgusting, pulling her hand away sharply. She even glared at me, her eyes fierce. "Ethan, I've worked my ass off for eight years, bought you this house, this car. You've been living off me for eight years. You should be grateful. Don't make this split uglier than it needs to be!" "Liv, what are you talking about?" I was the one who shifted my focus to our family, who supported and encouraged her career. How did that turn into me living off her? Haven't I contributed just as much to our home, to our daughter? What happened to her during those seven days? I fought to control my emotions, trying to ask calmly, "Liv, really... what happened?" But she couldn't be bothered to explain. She took Brandon's hand, turned to leave, and tossed over her shoulder, "If you won't agree to the divorce, I'll have my lawyer contact you." I wanted to chase after her, but a sudden, violent pain ripped through my stomach. It felt like my insides were being tied into knots and then torn apart. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to my knees. Olivia was already out the door. If she had just turned around, she would have seen me, pale as a ghost, barely conscious. But she didn't. Just then, Lily came out of her bedroom. Seeing Olivia, her face lit up. She ran towards her, smiling, calling out sweetly, "Mommy!" But Olivia just pushed Lily away. 4: The Check My health was getting worse by the day, the pain flaring up more often. I hired a nanny to help take care of Lily. My original plan was simple: when Olivia came back, I'd take her and Lily to the coast to watch the sunrise one last time. We were always so busy – busy with studies when we were students, busy with careers after graduation. We never made time for trips. She used to always say, "Ethan, remember, you owe me a sunrise by the ocean." I also wanted to give her a proper wedding. We basically eloped when we got married. Her parents had cut her off. On the day we got our marriage license, we just wore new clothes, celebrated with takeout from our favorite Thai place, and didn't even invite any friends. She put on a brave face that day, but when she talked about her parents, her eyes welled up with tears. I held her close back then and swore, "I'm sorry, Liv. I promise I'll work hard, I'll make your parents see, I'll make them accept me." But now... I had to break that promise. The next day, Brandon showed up. He asked to meet me. He slid a blank check across the table. I kept my face neutral. "What's this supposed to mean?" Brandon smiled confidently. "Agree to the divorce, stop bothering Olivia, and this check is yours." I laughed, a bitter, mocking sound. "Liv and I are legally married. You're the one bothering her." "Think what you want," he said, crossing his arms, adopting the smug posture of a winner looking down on me. "But she's chosen me now. Even if you're legal, that's about to change." Suddenly, I grabbed his arm. I squeezed so hard the veins in my neck bulged. My eyes must have looked terrifying. Brandon flinched, startled. "Ethan! What are you doing?" I ground out through clenched teeth, "What the hell happened to Olivia? Tell me everything!" A tickle started in my throat. I couldn't stop a violent cough that wracked my body. A wave of hot, metallic fluid surged up from my chest, and I sprayed a mouthful of blood onto Brandon's shirt. "What the—!" His face turned whiter than mine. He looked terrified, trying to pull away, but I held him fast. All my remaining strength flowed into my hand, gripping his arm like a vise. I growled, "Talk!" Brandon yelled, "Olivia lost her memory! She doesn't even remember you!" 5: I Agree "Even if you tell her everything now, she won't believe you," Brandon spat out as he was leaving, dusting himself off. "A woman never forgets her first love. Why else would she remember me and forget eight years with you? Ethan, Olivia doesn't love you anymore. Just let it go with some dignity!" He left the check behind. "Looks like you're not doing too well yourself," he added. "You probably need the money. Take the check, get yourself treated." I gave a cold smile and ripped the check into tiny pieces. ... I went back to the hospital for another check-up. The doctor's expression was grim. "The tumors have spread everywhere. Your condition is critical. You need to be admitted immediately!" I managed a weak smile. "Will staying in the hospital save my life, Doctor?" "...It can at least help manage the pain. Where are your family members? Call them in. I need to speak with them." I shook my head. "I don't have any family." My parents died when I was young, which forced me to become independent and strong. I learned early on that you can only rely on yourself. My only real family is Lily, and she's just five years old. My poor daughter. Her mother doesn't remember her, and her father... her father is about to die. I refused hospitalization again and went home with more painkillers. Truthfully, when the pain wasn't actively flaring up, I felt okay, just incredibly weak. But the tumors were everywhere, ready to attack at any moment... And when they did, the pain was like a saw blade cutting through my organs, each wave agonizing enough to make me pass out. I was sleeping maybe two hours a night, tops. Even with the painkillers, the pain would wake me in the middle of the night, soaking the sheets in cold sweat. I'd find bruises and nail marks on myself later, unaware I'd been clutching at my own body in agony. Until one night, I surfaced from a haze of pain to find my bedroom door open. Lily was standing by my bed, her eyes red. Her small hand was trying to wipe the sweat from my forehead. "Daddy, let me rub it better..." I was too weak to do much more than gently take her tiny hand. I whispered, trying to reassure her, "Daddy doesn't hurt." Her face was full of worry. She stubbornly refused to go back to her own room and eventually curled up beside me, falling asleep. Sleep was impossible for me now. I lay there, staring at the ceiling. They say real men don't cry easily. But tears slipped from the corners of my eyes, soaking into the already damp pillow. What would happen to Lily after I'm gone? My daughter is only five. She's so small, so sweet. Without her father, how will she navigate the rest of her life? An overwhelming wave of sorrow washed over me. When I finally calmed down a bit, my hand was already on my phone. The contact name "Olivia" burned my eyes. I dialed her number anyway. It rang for a long time before she finally answered. She must have been asleep. Her voice was quiet, but I could instantly detect the underlying irritation. "Ethan?" My voice was thin. "Honey, I'm not feeling well..." She cut me off impatiently. "If you're not feeling well, call a doctor. Why are you calling me? Do you know what time it is?" It felt like a needle piercing my heart. Even breathing hurt. "Liv, you're my wife..." She paused, a hint of weariness in her voice. "I wish I weren't. Unless this is about the divorce, please don't bother me." She hung up. My voice was so weak, but she couldn't even tell. I let out a long, bitter laugh, then dialed her number again. As soon as she picked up, I said, "I agree to the divorce. Let's get the papers drawn up tomorrow." Our eighth anniversary was just around the corner. Looks like I wouldn't make it.
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