The Price of a Slice of Cake

Summary

I made the mistake of eating a slice of cake the intern had baked for my wife, Claire.

Claire frowned, disgusted. She dragged me to the hospital and forced the doctors to pump my stomach three times. The procedure was so violent it destroyed my stomach lining. To save my life, they had to perform a partial gastrectomy—removing two-thirds of my stomach.

Now, I survived on liquid diets. Within weeks, I was nothing but skin and bones.

Claire didn’t care. I watched her hand-feed steak to Rob, the intern, wiping sauce from his lip with her thumb.