The soft foam catches your weight as you sit on the brown couch in your living room. It was raining cold outside and the only thing that warmed you was the fire set inside the furnace and the blanket that was large enough for two people to use.
"You have cancer, stage 2. I'm sorry."
The doctor's words replayed on your mind as if it was a broken record.
You didn't know how to react or what to do in that kind of situation, so you just stood there, and continued to listen to what the male doctor had to say more.
"You have approximately four months to live . . . unless you consider having a chemotherapy."
Tears started to fill the puffy cheeks of yours as you stared at the burning flame, thinking as if you were the wood and the fire was cancer, slowly destroying your life within just seconds of its start.
"Yeobo! I'm home!" Your thoughts were interrupted by a voice which was then followed by the sound of a door closing.
Five years, you were married to a man named MJ for five years. You both had already planned your future; a mint and yellow two-level house, two cars; a red fortuner and a blue pick-up, four kids; two boys and two girls, and nothing more buttons blessed and beautiful things to come.
But all of it was ruined with just three words, you have cancer.
"Okay honey, I have good news and bad news so . . . don't freak out!" He said ever-so-excitingly as he sat beside you on the couch. He didn't see your tears though luckily because you had already wiped them before he could even walk into the living room when he arrived.
"Bad news first, I'm fired from being an intern." He said seriously and your eyes widened.
"Mwo? B-but, how're we going to live now? How are we going to pay the bills? Are we going to live on the streets from now on? I'm gonna call your company." You thought that it was the worst day of your life knowing that you were dying soon because your body is already being eaten by those stupid cancer cells and now, you're going to live the last months you have in poverty because your husband got fired.
"Wait, wait, jagi, calm down."
"How am I going to calm down, Myungjun? Tell me, how?!"
"I haven't even said the good news yet . . . I got promoted! I'm not going to work as an intern anymore because I already got promoted to be the official designer of our company!" (I don't know how promotions work so please bear with this unprofessional writing of mine. But y'all know that MJ always wanted to be a designer so...)
You stood still not knowing what to say so he just hugged you like he always does when you lose your words.
Unbeknownst to you, tears started to fall free from your eyes, with MJ's shoulder catching every drop.
"Hey, why are you crying? You're supposed to be happy." He let go of the hug and looked at you, wiping the liquid substance on your cheeks. "Oh, I get it. Tears of joy? Hmm, I knew it." He placed his arms around you again, feeling warmer than how the blanket gave you.
"MJ," You sniffed.
"Yes, baby? What is it?"
You were debating whether you should tell him about your health, "If I told him, he would be the one suffering because he's going to worry about me all day and night, and on top of that, he just got promoted. But if I didn't, one of these months I might just faint and maybe, I'll be gone, forever. Two options, same result. He's going to suffer more than I will.
"MJ I—"
Your phone suddenly rang, interrupting your conversation. It was the doctor.
Your hand got sweaty as you slid the button, answering the call.
"Yeoboseyo?" You walked a little further from your husband, making him curious.
"Mrs. Kim, I'm very much sorry about what I said earlier."
"What do you mean, doctor?" MJ's curiousity got bigger as the word 'doctor' slipped out of your mouth. Thinking that maybe, you were hiding something from him.
"I examined again the CT scans and the lump we found in your stomach, it was actually a—"
MJ finally got too nosy and began asking you questions.
"Yah, _____. Are you hiding something from me? When did you visit the doctor? Are you sick? Maybe you're cheating with me, are you? With that doctor? Seriously, jagi? If you wanted a doctor for a spouse, I could've just turned in a fake resumé and—"
"No, MJ! I'm not cheating on you!" You yelled, tired of his accusations of you.
"Oh really? I worked hard enough to get that promotion and this is what you do to m—"
"I'm pregnant." You smiled.
"W-what? Say that again!"
"You're going to be a father, silly!"
"So, you weren't chea—"
You instantly kissed him in the lips, shutting him up and returning back the affection.
---
Yay! No one dies! . . . okay, that sounded sarcastic.
