"As long as you understand. The money we save on treatment—we'll use it to travel abroad. See places we've never seen, taste things we've never tasted, experience cultures we've never known. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"
A pang of guilt struck me. Had I been misjudging Simon all along?
If these were his final days, I wanted him to live them well.
"Then book the tickets," I said. "Pick a place—anywhere you want. The three of us will go together."
"Alright, let me look into it first."
That evening, he kept fiddling with his phone. I assumed he was researching destinations.
Three days passed. Nothing.
"Simon, have you decided where we're going? When do we leave? I need to request time off from work."
His gaze shifted away. "I actually had the tickets booked already, but my dad was suddenly hospitalized. I need to be there for him. I don't feel comfortable with you and our son going alone."
"Let's wait a bit. Once Dad's better, we'll go."
Simon had a tell. Whenever he lied, his eyes wandered.
"Then let me visit Dad at the hospital."
"No need. Places like that aren't good for your health if you go too often. Dad understands."
"Oh, and I won't be home after work today. I'm staying at the hospital with him."
I didn't call him out. Just nodded and said okay.
At seven that evening, Simon's phone location showed him at a karaoke lounge.
I grabbed a cab immediately.
After checking with the front desk, I headed straight for his private room.
The door was ajar. Before I even stepped inside, I heard Simon's voice, bold and magnanimous:
"Everyone here tonight is a good friend of Gretchen's. Don't hold back! Order whatever you want to eat or drink—it's on me!"
Cheers erupted.
"That's our generous Mr. Simmons! Now that Gretchen's with you, we can rest easy."
Simon had his arm around a woman I didn't recognize, grinning like he'd never been happier.
I pushed the door open and walked in.
"Simon, is this what you call staying at the hospital?"
The room fell silent.
Simon yanked his arm off her shoulder like he'd been electrocuted.
"Jeanette—what are you doing here?"
"If I hadn't come, how would I have known you were having such a good time? Now, who was it I just heard saying she's 'with' you?"
"Gretchen Butler. She's my new secretary."
"The company just closed a big deal, so I brought everyone out to celebrate. Dad has a caretaker watching him—don't worry about it."
"I've been to your office plenty of times, Simon. I've met your colleagues. Not a single person in this room looks familiar."
Gretchen stood up, her expression icy. "They're my friends."
I smiled.
"How generous of you, Mr. Simmons—treating your new secretary's friends to a place with prices like these."
"Why don't you introduce me to them? Tell them who I am."
Simon froze. I hooked my arm through his and turned to face the room.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Simon's wife. My name is Jeanette Fox."
Dead silence.
A girl next to Gretchen spoke up, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, I know who you are. You're the wife with ALS."
"Honestly, Mr. Simmons is such a saint. Knowing you have that disease and still not divorcing you."
I turned to Simon. "So this is common knowledge now? Even your new secretary's friends know about it. You really don't hold anything back, do you?"
Simon said nothing.
I walked over to Gretchen.
"You're that desperate to take my place?"
Her lips trembled, and she burst into tears.
Simon stormed over, grabbed my arm, and yanked me away from her.
Then he slapped me across the face.
"I organized this gathering. I told Gretchen to invite her friends. If you have a problem, take it up with me!"
