Chapter 6

Chapter 6



As I watched them walk away, everything suddenly clicked. No wonder Clyde never brought Kayla home. He was worried about her allergies to dog hair.

The young nurse looked like she was about to call out to him, but I stopped her.

"Ms. Crawford, is that your husband? That's not right," she said, clearly outraged.

The nurse was young, probably fresh out of college, and filled with a sense of justice.

I shook my head. "It's fine. We're getting a divorce. If he had stayed, I might've died sooner."

Anger could be a woman's worst enemy. Maybe it was because I'd been bottling everything up for the past three years, but my cancer came back.

The drama ended, and the doctors resumed planning the surgery. Perhaps feeling guilty about me, they checked my vitals and, finding them barely acceptable, scheduled the surgery.

Maybe it was my neighbor Brenda's cross that worked. The doctors had said my chances were slim since it was a recurrence, but the surgery went incredibly smoothly. I guessed God's blessing meant I got to live a bit longer.

I was suddenly grateful to Clyde for making me angry. If he had been too nice, I might've died sooner.

my first surgery, but it hurt more, maybe because I knew there was no one to feel sorry for me. The first time I had surgery in Aurora, at

listened more to what she said, maybe she wouldn't have died

evident in her eyes. I could guess why. Today, I must've become the talk of the hospital, not because of the cut on my head, but because my husband left with his mistress, ignoring his

no one reached out to me, and I

occasionally check my phone. Clyde never reached out. No calls, no messages. But I kept seeing updates from him and Kayla. Kayla loved to share

group without her, she was

her rotten, huh? Because of an allergy, they're off to Westbridge for

we're slaving away here, they're out enjoying

at least we're not as

openly cheating, and she doesn't

into the conversation. In their eyes, I was the

to

gossip group. They didn't know who I was then, so they shared everything with

off my phone, a call came from a business partner. I hadn't

"Ms. Crawford, if the Patterson

answer his phone, and no one at the company is stepping up. What about our project? Who's going to cover our losses?" The more they talked, the more agitated they became. Eventually, I understood Clyde had taken

letting them vent, I spoke weakly, "I'm sorry. I've just had surgery and

appearing vulnerable was the best approach. It wasn't my fault, so why

tone, "You had surgery?

If you can't

Patterson, try contacting his

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