Betrayed by My Beloved Husband

My husband was diagnosed with late-stage stomach cancer.

I begged the doctor to change the diagnosis report to mid-stage and spent all our savings on his treatment.

After my husband recovered, he held his mistress and forced me out of the house, demanding to split the only property my mother left me.

He said, "You jinx, get out of my sight."

Later, he poisoned me and my unborn child with fake alcohol.

When I opened my eyes, I was back to the day the report came out.

His family gathered around me asking questions, and I suppressed a smile, "The doctor said there's no hope."

His mom, Iris Bell, looked disbelieving, repeatedly checking the report, then dragged me to find the doctor to clarify.

The doctor said, "The patient's condition is not optimistic, but it isn't entirely hopeless.

As long as you give the patient positive beliefs and actively cooperate with treatment, it is possible to be fully cured if he survives the five-year mark."

As soon as we left the office, Iris, without saying a word, raised her trembling hand and slapped me hard.

While hitting me, she said.

"I told you to take good care of my son, and this is how you do it? Now he has cancer. If he dies, I want you to pay with your life."

"You're a jinx. My son was healthy before, and you made him like this."

"You're just like your mother, a dirty curse on this world."

The doctor saw and hurriedly pulled me away.

Back in the ward, the person next to us asked why my face was so swollen.

My husband, Nathan Carter, didn't show any concern or ask what happened. He smiled and explained it to the person.

"It's nothing. She probably didn't listen to my mom and deserved it. Looks like my mom held back this time."

The person looked at me with sympathy and said, "No matter what she did wrong, you shouldn't hit her."

Nathan waved dismissively, "She's the dog we keep. I'll hit her whenever I want."

Nathan's words felt like a slap to my face. Only then did I realize how wrong I had been.

They say a day's couplehood creates a hundred days of grace.

In the previous life, Nathan's good friend was diagnosed with late-stage cancer and died in less than a month.

He was so shocked when he found out that it took him a long time to recover.

When I found out Nathan had late-stage stomach cancer, I, with weakened legs, knelt in the doctor's office, crying and begging them to change the cancer report to give him hope for treatment.

After kneeling for three days, the doctor couldn't bear it anymore and customized a special pathology report for my husband.

The report changed the original diagnosis from 14 lymph node metastases and positive nerve invasion vascular infiltration to 1 lymph node metastasis and negative nerve invasion vascular infiltration.

The modified pathology report indicated mid-stage stomach cancer, which was operable and had a low recurrence rate.

Iris was impatient. I feared she couldn't handle it and would ruin my plan, so I kept it from her.

To take care of Nathan wholeheartedly, I quit my promising career at a well-known enterprise, devoted myself to collecting information on stomach cancer and treatment methods, and carefully attended to his daily needs.

From prolonged lack of rest, my face turned dark, my skin dried out, and I aged ten years compared to my peers.

Meanwhile, under my meticulous care, Nathan's condition improved, his complexion became rosy, and he was full of energy.

The doctor instructed him not to drink, so I hid all the alcohol at home. He went mad, grabbed my hair, and slammed my head against the wall.