When I Stopped Waiting for You

In the seventh year of my marriage to Ethan, the hospital told me I was dying.

In the little time I had left, I stopped caring where he went.

I let him send what little remained of his paycheck to his mistress. I let him request a transfer to a remote town just because it was her hometown.

I donated everything I owned and signed the divorce papers.

While he dreamed of keeping both women, I spent every day thinking about how to leave.

After the hospital gave me its final warning, Ethan’s mistress came looking for me.