“I’m serious.”

I replied calmly and handed her a pen as well.

Stacy recoiled as if she had been burned, and she stumbled back a step.

“Sam, stop messing around!” she said. Her voice softened with panic.

“I was joking earlier. I was just ranting because I was angry. Don’t take it too seriously.”

She was joking, but I was not.

John’s voice came from the end of the hallway, and he hurried over, looking worried.

“Stacy, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Emma’s been crying nonstop because she can’t find you, so she insisted I come out to look. I walked all over the hospital and didn’t expect you to be here.”

He stopped in front of us, and when he saw the divorce agreement in my hand, a flash of delight crossed his eyes.

“Sam, you’re here too? Are you sick?” he asked with feigned concern. Then he covered his mouth as if struck by a sudden realization.

“Oh wow! What a coincidence. Emma had an episode and was rushed to the hospital, and you’re already here.”

His words sounded casual, but every sentence stabbed straight at the heart.

I did not bother responding to his provocation and said coldly, “If you’re afraid Emma will get sick because of me, then I’ll leave.”

I turned to go, but Stacy stepped in front of me and grabbed my wrist tightly.

Her gaze landed on my worn face, and under the hospital’s stark white lights, she finally seemed to see the exhaustion and sickness I could no longer hide.

“Emma’s illness has nothing to do with you.”

Her voice was low, and it sounded like she was refuting John and convincing herself at the same time.

I suddenly wanted to laugh because she clearly had not thought that way earlier.

Her expression turned serious, and her eyes locked onto me with unease.

“Why did you come to the hospital? Are you sick? What exactly is wrong with you?”

I struggled to shake her hand off, but she only tightened her grip.

I could clearly feel her hand trembling against my wrist.

Seeing this, John immediately stepped forward and pretended to smooth things over.

“Stacy, you’re overthinking it. Sam looks fine, so how could he be sick?

“I heard from Mr. Green that he’s just been lying down too much during his livestreams, so his muscles are slightly weak. More exercise will fix that.

“He probably rushed over because he cares about Emma and wanted to see her.”

Stacy acted as if she had not heard a single word. All of her attention stayed on me.

When I still refused to speak, the anxiety and fear in her eyes grew stronger.

In the next moment, she yanked me along and rushed back into the consultation room I had just left.

The doctor had been organizing medical records and jumped in surprise when we barged back in.

Stacy shoved me in front of the doctor and demanded answers.

“What illness does my husband actually have?! Why does he look so bad and so weak? Is it just muscle atrophy that will get better with more exercise?”

The doctor’s expression turned awkward instantly, and he clearly did not know how to respond.

I had once specifically asked the doctor to say I suffered muscle atrophy from long-term inactivity if Stacy ever asked.

I did not want her to know the truth because I did not want her to worry. However, after thinking about it carefully, I realized she probably never cared.

The doctor’s gaze flicked back and forth between us. Then he finally took off his glasses with a weary sigh and rubbed his brow.

“Ms. Morgan, please calm down.”

He paused and still chose to tell the truth.

“Your husband does not have ordinary muscle atrophy. He has… amyotrophic lateral sclerosis.”