Walking out of the doctor’s office with the test results, my expression was grave. My husband glanced at the report and clearly saw the three words: ALS diagnosis. He didn’t say anything. When we got home, he cooked me an elaborate dinner. After we ate, he looked at me seriously. “Claire, we still have to pay for Jamie’s college. This disease is a bottomless pit, and there’s no cure. Maybe we shouldn’t treat it.” I stared at him in shock. He continued: “If I were the one who was sick, I definitely wouldn’t get treatment either. I couldn’t let myself drag down the whole family.” “Claire, I hope you understand.” Of course I understood him. So I nodded: “Okay, then we won’t treat it.” But he clearly hadn’t figured something out—I’m not the one who’s sick. 1 Marcus had been complaining lately about feeling weak all over. I wasn’t feeling well either, so we went to the hospital together for checkups. After the test results came back, the doctor called me into the office alone. “You’re Marcus’s wife, right? Based on his test results, he has ALS.” Those three letters exploded in my mind. I knew exactly what they meant. “Doctor, money isn’t an issue for us. We need to do everything possible to slow down my husband’s condition and give him a few more years of quality life. Where there’s life, there’s hope. I don’t care if we have to sell everything we own!” Coming out with the report, my whole body was shaking. I tried my best to control my expression, but Marcus still noticed something was wrong. He glanced at the test report in my hand. I quickly stuffed it into my bag. Marcus didn’t say anything. He just pulled me into his arms: “You must be hungry. Let’s go home and I’ll cook you something delicious!” He made a whole table of his specialties—all my favorite dishes. I couldn’t hold back. I started crying right in front of him. He gently wiped away my tears: “Let’s eat first. We can talk after.” I figured he must know. After dinner, we sat in silence for a long time. Marcus suddenly spoke: “Claire, maybe we shouldn’t treat it.” I cried harder: “No! The doctor said with proper treatment and disease management, we can still have several good years!” “But ALS treatment costs are too high. Hundreds of thousands a year. We’re already stretched thin!” I grabbed Marcus’s hand: “Don’t worry about the money. We both make good salaries. Even if only one of us keeps working, we can afford it. Worst case, we’ll just live more frugally.” “Claire, we still have to pay for Jamie’s college. This disease is a bottomless pit with no cure. We really shouldn’t treat it.” I froze. “What are you saying?” “If I were the one who was sick, I definitely wouldn’t get treatment. I couldn’t let myself drag down the whole family.” “Claire, I hope you understand.” Apparently he hadn’t looked closely at the name on the report. He thought I was the sick one. I pulled my hand away from his. My tears stopped instantly. Turns out it’s so easy to stop loving someone. “Fine. I understand. Then we won’t treat it.” 2 Marcus visibly relaxed. He grabbed my hand: “Claire, it’s not that I’m stingy with money. I’m just thinking about Jamie’s future.” “Our son needs to study abroad eventually, get married someday—everything costs money. If we drain our savings on medical treatment, what will Jamie do later?” “Most importantly, this disease has no cure. Why waste money on something that can’t be fixed?” I raised my hand: “Enough. Stop talking. If we’re not treating it, we’re not treating it. This disease really is a waste of money to treat. Besides, you already said if you had this disease you wouldn’t treat it either, so what reason do I have to insist?” “I’m glad you understand. With the money we save from treatment, we can travel abroad. See sights we’ve never seen, eat food we’ve never tried, experience different cultures. Wouldn’t that be great!” Suddenly I felt a bit guilty. Maybe I’d misunderstood Marcus. For his final days, I hoped Marcus could have a good time too. “Then book the tickets. Pick a place. The three of us will take a trip together, wherever you want to go.” “Okay, let me look up some travel guides first.” That night he was on his phone constantly. I thought he was researching destinations. But three days passed with no news. “Marcus, have you picked where we’re going? When are we leaving? I need to request time off from work.” Marcus’s eyes darted away: “I had everything booked, but then my dad suddenly got hospitalized. I need to go take care of him. I’m not comfortable with you and Jamie going alone.” “Let’s wait a bit. Once Dad’s better, we’ll go.” Marcus had this tell—whenever he lied, his eyes would shift around. “Then let me go visit Dad.” “You don’t need to. Hospitals aren’t good for your health if you go too often. Dad will understand.” “By the way, I won’t be coming home after work today. I’m going to the hospital to stay with Dad.” I didn’t call him out. I just nodded and said okay. At seven that evening, Marcus’s phone location showed he was at a bar. I immediately took a cab there. After checking with the front desk, I went straight to his private room. The door was slightly ajar. Before I even entered, I could hear Marcus inside boasting loudly. “Everyone here today is Vivian’s good friend. Don’t hold back! Order whatever you want to drink or eat. It’s on me!” Everyone cheered. “Marcus is so generous! We won’t worry about Vivian’s future with you.” Marcus had his arm around a woman I didn’t recognize, grinning from ear to ear. I pushed the door open. “Marcus, this is what you call taking care of your dad at the hospital?” The lively room instantly went silent. Marcus jerked his arm away from the woman’s shoulder like he’d been electrocuted. “Claire, what are you doing here?” “If I hadn’t come, how would I know you were having such a great time? Who was it I just heard saying they wanted to be with you?” “Vivian. She’s my new secretary.” “We just closed a big deal at the company, so I’m treating everyone to celebrate. There’s a nurse watching Dad. You don’t need to worry.” “I’ve been to your company many times. I’ve met your colleagues. Why don’t I recognize a single person here?” Vivian stood up, looking at me coldly: “They’re all my friends.” I smiled. “Mr. Marcus, you’re really generous—treating your new secretary’s friends to such an expensive place.” “Why don’t you introduce me to everyone?” Marcus stood frozen. I linked my arm through his and addressed the group: “Let me introduce myself. I’m Marcus’s wife. My name is Claire.” 3 The room fell completely silent. A girl next to Vivian said mockingly: “I know you. You’re Marcus’s wife with ALS.” “Marcus is such a good man—knowing you have this disease and still not divorcing you.” I looked at Marcus: “So even your new secretary’s friends know about this? You really don’t hold back, do you?” Marcus said nothing. I walked right up to Vivian. “Are you really in such a rush to take my place?” Vivian’s lip trembled and she started crying. Marcus stormed over, yanked me away, and slapped me across the face. “I organized this gathering. I asked Vivian to invite her friends. If you’re angry, take it out on me!” Looking at my husband getting furious over another woman, I felt like I didn’t even know him anymore. One illness had shown me exactly who my husband really was. Marcus was livid: “You’ve completely ruined the atmosphere.” He called over the server: “Check, please.” “We’ll end here for today. I’ll treat everyone again another time.” The server brought the bill. Total: $80,39
Marcus waved his hand and paid it without hesitation. I actually laughed. No money to treat his wife’s illness, but plenty to wine and dine his mistress. Marcus called a rideshare to take us home. The moment we walked through the door, he said: “Claire, let’s get divorced.” I paused: “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” “Fine. Then let’s talk about how to divide our assets.” “We have $200,000 in savings. We each take $100,000. The house and Jamie both go to me. You have no objections to that, right?” Rage flooded through me: “Marcus, we’ve been married ten years. Our savings should be at least $3 million. Now there’s only $200,000 left? Are you kidding me?” “And this house—you bought it with a mortgage. We’ve been paying it off together. Why should it all go to you? And Jamie—I’m keeping him too!” “The savings really are only $200,000. Forgot to tell you—I used the money to start a small business. Lost it all.” “As for the house, even though we’ve both been paying the mortgage, the deed is in my parents’ names. It has nothing to do with you.” I slammed the table: “Marcus! When we got married, you clearly said this house was yours!” “It is my house. Just because it’s my house doesn’t mean I can’t put it in my parents’ names, right?” “Fine. You want to scheme against me like this? Then I won’t divorce you. Let’s see who outlasts who!” “Claire! Do you think you have many years left? If you won’t divorce me, then I’ll just wait to be widowed!” I sneered: “Then let’s just wait it out. See which one of us dies first.” Marcus violently smashed a glass on the table: “Marrying you was the worst luck of my life!” He slammed the door and left. This time I didn’t care where he went. I immediately contacted a lawyer to discuss divorce matters and asked her to help investigate Marcus’s transfer of marital assets, as well as how to fight for custody of Jamie. My eight-year-old son was trembling from our argument. He asked me: “Mom, are you going to divorce Dad?” I held him in my arms: “Sweetheart, if Mom and Dad separate, will you hate me?” My son shook his head: “It’s not your fault. Dad likes another lady now.” He pulled out the Polaroid camera I’d bought him: “I took pictures of Dad kissing that lady.”
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