My ex-girlfriend has terminal lung cancer and came to me to explain her funeral arrangements. She said that the password for some apps is still my birthday. My heart was pounding, but I didn't dare to take time off to see her—the mortgage, layoffs, and my wife's silence were all tied to me. But I went anyway and discovered a shocking secret: She was pregnant back then and chose to leave alone because she carried a cancer-causing gene.
Then a miracle happened - gene therapy cured her terminal illness. She survived, but my marriage fell apart. The wife said: "You both know in your heart who you have chosen."
Both women opted out. And I stood there with empty hands.
This is not only a love story, but also a torture that every middle-aged man dares not face: When an old love comes back to life, who do you owe and who should you pay back?
