When Ethan knelt before me, I simply watched him in silence.
A strange sense of inevitability settled in my heart.
Two days earlier, Ethan had accompanied me to the hospital for a prenatal check-up.
I was excitedly imagining our child's future when I was nearly bumped by a woman.
Ethan pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly.
"Ethan?"
Just that simple word made his grip around me stiffen.
I turned to look at the woman and froze.
It was Cassie. Ethan's first love.
She was pale, almost frail, a stark contrast to my ever-expanding body.
"It's been a while. When did you get back?"
Ethan's voice was calm, polite, as he kept his hand tightly clasped in mine.
He was reassuring me.
That realization made my panic gradually subside.
Yes, Ethan and I had been married for four years.
Cassie didn’t answer his question; instead, she glanced at my pregnant belly.
She clutched a medical report in her hand, biting her lip, her face marked by a visible sorrow.
"Ethan, I’m in the final stages of cancer. I have only a month left."
"What are you saying? That can't be possible!"
Ethan’s grip on my hand loosened instantly.
I felt my hand drop weakly to my side, suddenly bereft of his support.
"Ethan, it seems you’re happy now. That’s all I needed to know."
Cassie gave us a long, lingering look before quickly walking away.
Without a second thought, Ethan moved to follow her.
He glanced back at me just before taking his first step, then hesitated.
He pulled me into a tight embrace, whispering gently in my ear, "Elle, can you take a cab home, please?"
Before I could respond, he had already turned, hurrying after Cassie.
Cassie, frail and weak, hadn't gone far.
I could clearly see Ethan's hand gripping hers.
My fingers, hanging at my side, clenched tightly into fists.
That hand had been holding mine just moments ago.
And now, he was holding another woman's hand.
I vaguely recalled that Cassie and Ethan had been together for five years.
One year longer than my four with him.
And that terminal diagnosis — it was a blow Ethan couldn’t ignore.
I turned silently, hailed a cab, and headed home.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, polite concern in his voice. "Are you feeling alright? You look a bit pale."
"Isn't your husband with you?"
I stared at my reflection, realizing my face was as pale as Cassie’s.
A stranger was worried about me, while Ethan had left me on my own.
"I'm fine," I murmured, placing a hand on my rounded belly.