The day I got the call from the hospital about a possible stomach cancer, my girlfriend was out on a date with another guy.

I asked her to come to the hospital with me.

She coldly turned me down, saying, “It’s just a check-up. No need to be so dramatic.”

In that moment, I decided to let her go.

And that’s when she started to love me.

——

I’d been having stomach issues for a while and went to the hospital for an endoscopy. My girlfriend, Vivian Aiken, knew about it.

The doctor said I’d need someone to be with me for the general anesthesia, but Vivian wouldn’t come, saying she was too busy with work.

I wasn’t too upset at first. Vivian’s always been a workaholic.

But everything changed when the doctor pulled me aside to tell me they suspected stomach cancer.

I was terrified and desperately needed someone by my side.

I called Vivian, barely able to speak before she coldly shot me down, “It’s just a check-up. You’re an adult. Don’t be so dramatic.”

I could hear Howard Conner’s voice in the background. She wasn’t busy with work. She was out with another man.

I lost it and had a huge argument with her.

As usual, she accused me of being overly suspicious, “Howard and I are just childhood friends. Why do you always have to be so paranoid?”

And then she blocked me.

She always did that. She would block me whenever we fought.

But I never blocked her, afraid that if I did, she might actually leave me for good.

I sat alone in a corner of the hospital, clutching the diagnosis slip, feeling like the whole world had turned its back on me.

Later, I packed a few clothes and took a leave from work to head to Boston’s top hospital.

I underwent further tests, and the doctor took a tissue sample for analysis. I spent a dark week in a small motel outside the hospital.

Finally, I received some good news.

The doctor told me that Portland Hospital had made an error. I only had gastritis, not cancer. With continued medication, I would recover.

At that moment, it felt like I had the whole world back.

Vivian unblocked me on the train ride back to Portland and sent a message.

[Let’s have dinner tonight.]

She also included a reservation for a restaurant.

I knew she was trying to make amends.

It was always like this. She was always in control of our relationship.

No matter how unreasonable her actions were or how much pain I felt, a small gesture from her was enough to make me forgive her immediately.

Over the years, my love had been so submissive.

She was like a puppeteer, and I was her paper doll, with my emotions completely under her control.

But this time, I didn’t feel the usual joy. I simply replied.

[Okay.]

I tossed my phone aside, not sending multiple sweet messages like I used to.

When I got home, I quickly freshened up and went to bed. The doctor had said that managing my stomach issues required a good mindset and plenty of rest.

I slept until six in the evening.

Remembering the dinner with Vivian, I dragged myself out of bed. In the past, I’d have spent a lot of time getting ready, fussing over my hairstyle and outfit.

This time, I just threw on some clothes and went out, forgetting to shave.

The dinner was scheduled for 7:30 pm, so I showed up at the restaurant at 7:00 pm.

But by 8:00 pm, Vivian still hadn’t arrived.

I tried calling her, but the line was busy.

By 9:00 pm, I still hadn’t heard from her. M

y stomach was growling, so I decided to stop waiting and just ordered the food.

I enjoyed a quiet meal on my own.

After dinner, I wandered around a big supermarket in the city, picking up a bunch of fruits and vegetables I liked.

When I was leaving, I saw a post from Howard on social media.

[With you by my side, everything is great.]

The photo showed a delicate, pale hand with a small rose tattoo on the webbing between the thumb and index finger.

It was Vivian’s hand.

Normally, seeing something like this would have made me furious and jealous, leading to a big fight with Vivian.

But this time, I felt nothing.

It was as if Vivian and Howard were completely irrelevant, like strangers to me.

When I got home, I took a shower and then settled in with a plate of fruit while binge-watching a show.

I used to handle all the housework, including cooking, laundry, and cleaning, so I barely had time to watch TV.

It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed TV like this.

After finishing two episodes, I was drowsy and fell asleep in bed.

Half-asleep, I heard the door open and footsteps, followed by her calling my name.

“David?”

Seeing me deep in sleep, she slapped my face lightly.

I rubbed my eyes and looked up. “You’re back?”

She looked momentarily surprised, frowning at me with what seemed like irritation.

I couldn’t figure out why she was upset. Was she annoyed that I didn’t interrogate her about why she stood me up or why she was with Howard? Was she expecting me to doubt their relationship and start another endless argument?

It was a joke.

In the past, when I was hysterically upset, she would criticize me for being petty, looking at me like I was a clown. Now that I wasn’t upset anymore, why was she the one getting mad?

“I’m sorry. Howard had a depressive episode, and I was afraid he might do something drastic, so I had to cancel on you,” she said.

I waved my hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Get some rest. You have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

I waved my hand dismissively.

She said anxiously, “He’s really in a dangerous state. I couldn’t get away…”

I glanced at the time.

Without letting her finish, I interrupted.

“It’s fine. Get some rest. You have to get up early for work tomorrow.”

Without waiting for her to finish, I interrupted and buried my head under the covers, going back to sleep.

I needed to get enough rest to recover quickly.

Seeing my reaction, she paused briefly, sighed, and then went to the bathroom to wash up.

I quickly fell into a deep sleep. It was the best sleep I’d had in years, and I didn’t even notice when she finally got into bed.