When I signed the divorce papers, Shen Yanci was still in the operating room with the woman he had always loved.
With my late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis beside the divorce papers, I decided to disappear quietly.
But then he saw the livestream of my funeral on TV.
“She’s just throwing a tantrum. She can’t be dead!” he cried, rushing into the funeral hall with red-rimmed eyes.
Only when he saw the unsent farewell letter beside my urn did he believe it:
“Shen Yanci, in my next life, I won’t be a doctor’s wife. It’s too painful.”
Afterward, he went mad with grief, clutching my urn for three days and nights without letting go.
But when I miraculously returned alive, he knelt in the rain, clutching my diagnosis:
“Please… give me one more chance to make things right.”
I touched the new ring on my finger and smiled.
“Dr. Shen, there’s no cure for being widowed. It’s common knowledge.”
