After He Walked Away Penniless, the Diagnosis Changed Chapter 01

After He Walked Away Penniless, the Diagnosis Changed Chapter 01

When I learned my husband’s cancer diagnosis had been wrong, I finally felt a wave of relief.

I had just gotten home and was about to share the good news when he handed me a divorce paper instead.

“I’ve spent my whole life settling in this marriage.”

“Now I only have three months left. I want to spend my final days with the one I truly love.”

“Please grant me this last wish.”

I stared at the clause stating that he would leave the marriage with nothing. I paused for a moment.

Then I signed my name without a second thought.

“You can leave now.”

He could finally chase after his soulmate and his lofty spiritual world.

As for me, I was more than happy to accept the mansions, the trust funds, and go back to being an unfettered mafia principessa.

—

“I want a divorce. Please grant me my final wish.”

Julian Hart said, holding out the paper. His gaze was steady, his tone grave.

I stood there, stunned.

After a long moment, I finally spoke, “The woman you actually love?”

Today, Julian wore a white linen shirt and beige slacks.

He didn’t look a day over thirty, still every bit the refined and handsome university professor.

He looked down. “Yeah. I don’t have much time left. There’s no point keeping it from you anymore.”

“In the third year of our marriage, I met a girl. She was my student.”

“We’d spend hours talking about literature, seeing eye to eye on everything. It’s like we shared a wavelength.”

“It was completely different from what I have with you.”

“There was this… connection. A real spiritual resonance.”

“I fell in love with her. But I was already married. I stayed because of you.”

“And she felt guilty about you, so in the end we broke things off.”

His voice was steady, but there was a trace of longing beneath it.

When he spoke about her, a faint smile touched his lips, one he probably didn’t even realize was there.

“We’ve stayed friends all these years. Nothing crossed the line again.”

“When we meet, we only talk about poetry, philosophy, and life.”

He lifted his head and locked his gaze onto mine.

“Don’t you get it? I only feel truly alive when I’m with her.”

“I don’t have to be tied down by trivial household chores or worry about having children.”

“She’s my muse. My soulmate. What we had was an accident under the rules of society. A regret.”

I listened quietly to his heartfelt confession.

Then a cold smile curved my lips, the whole thing absurd to the point of being laughable.

“Spare me. That’s all just pretty-sounding bullshit.”

Julian froze. His ears flushed red as if he had been deeply insulted. His voice turned sharp, laced with disdain.

“You’re vulgar! You don’t have even a tenth of her elegance.”

“Do you have any idea how much I hate your crudeness and ignorance?”

“Being married to you was like casting pearls before swine. A total waste.”

I fell silent for a moment. The anger that had flared up at first slowly faded.

“So what? Am I supposed to apologize for that?”

I stepped forward and leaned in slightly, letting the chill in my voice sink in.

“Julian, Does dressing up an affair in all that art and literature talk suddenly turn it into some grand love story? Is that how it works in your head?”

For a split second, he actually looked embarrassed. But then his eyes hardened with resolve.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. I want a divorce.”

“At the end of my life, I don’t want to have any regrets.”

He pushed the agreement toward me again.

I picked it up and flipped through it.

My eyes skimmed over the stated reason, irreconcilable differences, before settling on the property division clause.

[Julian would give up all marital assets.]

He lifted his chin slightly, wearing a kind of lofty generosity.

“When you’re dying, stuff like money doesn’t matter anymore.”

“And I know I hurt you. Think of this as making it up to you.”

I let out a soft laugh, my fingers brushing the misdiagnosis report in my pocket.

Then I picked up a pen and signed my name without hesitation.

Fine. Let him go chase his soulmate and his precious spiritual world.

As for these “vulgar” properties, savings, and funds, I would bear them alone.

It was a dirty job, but someone had to do it.