Her Betrayal, My Cancer, Our End

Her Betrayal, My Cancer, Our End

Xia Luowei

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The opening bell rang, deafeningly loud. Confetti rained down on the NASDAQ trading floor as our company, Innovatech, went public. My arm was around my wife, Sarah, smiling for the cameras. Millions of dollars, years of coding in my garage, all of it had paid off. I was on top of the world. Just two hours later, an antiseptic smell filled Dr. Chen' s sterile office. The smile was gone. "It's pancreatic cancer, Ethan," he said softly. "Stage four. It's...aggressive." The words hung heavy. IPO day. The best day of my life. And now this. The irony was a physical blow. I drove home in a daze, the city lights blurring. I needed to tell Sarah. We' d face this together. She was waiting when I walked into our large, empty house. Not smiling. Dressed in a sharp business suit, a leather briefcase on the coffee table. "Sarah," I started, my voice cracking, "I just came from the doctor's office. It's bad news." She held up a hand. "I know." Her voice was cold, completely devoid of emotion. "You know?" "I called Dr. Chen's office. The receptionist said he had an urgent appointment with you. I figured it was serious." She slid a thick stack of papers across the table. "These are divorce papers, Ethan." I stared at the documents, then back at her face. "Divorce? Now? Sarah, I have cancer." A small, ugly smirk played on her lips. "Exactly. My lawyer has already transferred the liquid assets. The IPO provided a lot of liquidity. It's better this way." "Better this way? I'm sick, Sarah! I'm dying!" "Don't be so dramatic," she scoffed, standing up. "Treatment would be a waste of money. Money that is now mine. You should just take whatever is left and enjoy your last few days. Don't waste it on doctors." She walked to the door. Her heels clicked loudly. She didn't look back once. The door closed, a soft, final click. I was alone. The divorce papers sat on the table, a testament to a decade. The confetti felt like a distant, faded memory. When Chloe, my childhood friend, inexplicably appeared at my doorstep, worry etched on her face, everything changed. She dropped her lucrative career for me. As I looked at her, then at the divorce papers, a dangerous plan began to solidify in my mind.

Introduction

The opening bell rang, deafeningly loud. Confetti rained down on the NASDAQ trading floor as our company, Innovatech, went public. My arm was around my wife, Sarah, smiling for the cameras. Millions of dollars, years of coding in my garage, all of it had paid off. I was on top of the world.

Just two hours later, an antiseptic smell filled Dr. Chen' s sterile office. The smile was gone.

"It's pancreatic cancer, Ethan," he said softly. "Stage four. It's...aggressive."

The words hung heavy. IPO day. The best day of my life. And now this. The irony was a physical blow.

I drove home in a daze, the city lights blurring. I needed to tell Sarah. We' d face this together.

She was waiting when I walked into our large, empty house. Not smiling. Dressed in a sharp business suit, a leather briefcase on the coffee table.

"Sarah," I started, my voice cracking, "I just came from the doctor's office. It's bad news."

She held up a hand. "I know." Her voice was cold, completely devoid of emotion.

"You know?"

"I called Dr. Chen's office. The receptionist said he had an urgent appointment with you. I figured it was serious." She slid a thick stack of papers across the table. "These are divorce papers, Ethan."

I stared at the documents, then back at her face. "Divorce? Now? Sarah, I have cancer."

A small, ugly smirk played on her lips. "Exactly. My lawyer has already transferred the liquid assets. The IPO provided a lot of liquidity. It's better this way."

"Better this way? I'm sick, Sarah! I'm dying!"

"Don't be so dramatic," she scoffed, standing up. "Treatment would be a waste of money. Money that is now mine. You should just take whatever is left and enjoy your last few days. Don't waste it on doctors."

She walked to the door. Her heels clicked loudly. She didn't look back once. The door closed, a soft, final click. I was alone. The divorce papers sat on the table, a testament to a decade. The confetti felt like a distant, faded memory.

When Chloe, my childhood friend, inexplicably appeared at my doorstep, worry etched on her face, everything changed. She dropped her lucrative career for me. As I looked at her, then at the divorce papers, a dangerous plan began to solidify in my mind.

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My company, Innovate, was my life' s work, built from the ground up with my boyfriend, Caleb, over ten years. We were college sweethearts, a golden couple, and our biggest deal, a $50 million contract with Apex Ventures, was finally closing. Then, a sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I fainted, only to wake up in a hospital. When I returned to the office, my keycard was denied, my access revoked, and my photo, defaced with an "X," was in the trash. Krystal Schroeder, a young intern Caleb had hired, was sitting at my desk, acting like the new Chief of Operations. She announced loudly that "non-essential personnel" were to stay clear, looking directly at me. Caleb, the man who had promised me the world, stood by, his face cold and indifferent. He dismissed my pregnancy, calling it a distraction, and put me on mandatory leave. I saw a tube of Krystal' s bright red lipstick on Caleb' s desk, the same shade I' d seen on his collar. The pieces clicked: the late nights, the "business dinners," his sudden obsession with his phone-it was all a lie. They had been planning this for months. The man I loved was gone, replaced by a stranger. But I wouldn' t let them take everything. I told Caleb I was leaving, but not without my full share of the company, valued at the post-Apex funding price. I also reminded him that the core algorithm, the one Apex was investing in, was patented in my name alone. I walked out, pulling out my phone to call the one person I never thought I would: Easton Jensen, my fiercest rival.

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