The day I was diagnosed with cancer, my husband was spending time with his childhood sweetheart.
He forgot to answer my call for help, but always remembered her passenger seat.
He took her in and out of our wedding room as she pleased.
During the fire, he protected her and escaped, leaving me alone in the sea of fire.
When I needed skin grafting to save my life, he said: "She is afraid of pain, but she is more important."
Heartbroken again and again, giving in again and again.
I finally understood: a marriage of three people is still too crowded.
It wasn't until I signed the divorce agreement that he was completely panicked.
He began to search for me all over the world like crazy, screaming my name.
But the countdown to terminal cancer has begun.
Some opportunities are lost forever if missed.
