His Fake Death Sentence Became Real

Summary

Chad and I were seven years into our "merger-disguised-as-a-marriage" when the ghost of the girl he never got over suddenly decided she was bored of London and moved back to the city.

To clear a path for her—to make our divorce look like a tragedy instead of a betrayal—he decided to play the ultimate martyr. He conspired with a doctor to script a grand finale: a terminal illness.

On our seventh anniversary, he didn’t bring jewelry. Instead, he dropped to his knees, clutching a forged medical report for stage four stomach cancer, sobbing as he begged me to let him go so he could spend his…