I Was the Last to Know

At a company team-building dinner, my coworkers started a challenge. We had to call our husbands or boyfriends and compare how much money they sent us. The rules were simple. Whoever got the biggest transfer and the fastest answer won. As usual, I came in dead last. "Seraphina, don't take it personally. Mr. Brooks may not be very romantic, but at least he's rich." Everyone laughed and tried to smooth things over, carefully avoiding old wounds. Like how I had spent seven years helping Conrad build his business, yet he had never once brought up marriage. Like how Conrad had distributed company shares to the executive team, and I was the last person to find out. Or how, on the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, the only person sitting beside me in the hospital waiting for the test results was my best friend. I simply smiled and said nothing. Then my gaze landed on the new intern. She gripped her phone so tightly her knuckles had turned white, hesitation written all over her face. "I think I'll pass," she said quietly. "He's on a business trip. He's really busy." The mood in the room began to grow awkward. Trying to help her out, I leaned forward with a smile and tapped the speakerphone button as I dialed for her. I had expected the call to go unanswered. Instead, it was picked up instantly. The private dining room fell completely silent. Because the voice that came through the phone belonged to my quiet, unromantic boyfriend, Conrad, and his tone was impossibly gentle. "Babe, did you get the Valentine's Day surprise I sent you?" Chapter 1 The Lie Finally Cracked Seraphina's POV "Wow, Summer, your boyfriend's voice is amazing. He really spoils you." The operations director sitting beside Summer was the first to break the suffocating silence in the private dining room. Summer flinched so hard that her phone nearly slipped from her hand and crashed onto her plate. She scrambled to hang up. Her fingers trembled so badly that it took two tries before the call finally disconnected. "Um… My boyfriend just likes using nicknames." With her head lowered, Summer spoke so softly she was barely audible. She did not dare look in my direction. "What's there to be embarrassed about? We're all adults here." Leo from Human Resources chuckled, but his gaze kept darting between Summer and me. I picked up my glass of warm water and took a small sip. The water had long since gone cold. As it slid into my stomach, it stirred the familiar dull ache waiting there. "Yeah, that's nice." I set down the glass and looked at Summer's pale knuckles. "Mr. Brooks is always so serious at work. I never expected him to have such a gentle side in private." The room froze again. Everyone had recognized Conrad's voice. After all, we had worked together for years. His cold, measured tone during executive meetings was practically carved into everyone's memory. No one dared say it out loud. "Seraphina, you heard wrong. That wasn't Mr. Brooks." Summer suddenly lifted her head. Her eyes were already red. "My boyfriend just sounds a little like Mr. Brooks, that's all." She rushed through the explanation, twisting the hem of her shirt so tightly her fingers had gone white. "Maybe I did hear wrong." I pulled out a napkin and calmly dabbed at the corner of my mouth. "After all, Mr. Brooks is on a business trip. He should be on a flight back from Valoria right now." I met Summer's eyes. My voice was so calm that even I found it surprising. "Right, right. Mr. Brooks went to Valoria. You'd know better than anyone, Seraphina." Several coworkers immediately seized the opportunity to move on, awkwardly steering the conversation elsewhere. For the rest of the dinner, everyone tried their hardest to keep the atmosphere lively. Summer excused herself to use the restroom and never came back. When it was time to pay the bill, I pulled out my phone. A WhatsApp message from Conrad appeared on the screen. "I've landed. Get some sleep." I stared at the message for a long time. Gradually, my vision blurred. In my mind, I kept hearing that sugary-sweet "babe" from the speakerphone. I did not reply. I simply locked the screen. Outside the restaurant, the chilly breeze of early spring hit me head-on. "Seraphina, need a ride home?" The operations director rolled down his window. Sympathy and curiosity mingled in his eyes. "No thanks. I feel like walking." Pulling my coat tighter around my neck, I turned and headed in the opposite direction. The streetlights stretched my shadow across the pavement. The pain in my stomach intensified. It felt as if countless rusted saws were scraping back and forth inside me. I stopped and leaned against the trunk of a sycamore tree by the roadside. Digging through my purse, I found my pain medication and swallowed two pills dry. They caught briefly in my throat, leaving behind a bitter taste. Seven years ago, Conrad had drunk himself into a stomach hemorrhage while trying to secure funding. In the middle of the night, I had carried him to the hospital and stayed awake beside him until morning. Back then, he had gripped my hand with reddened eyes. "Seraphina, once the company is stable, I'll give you everything I have." Now, the company was more than stable. It was preparing to go public. Yet he could not even give me the truth. My phone vibrated. A bank notification popped up. Conrad's supplementary credit card had just been charged 280,000. The merchant was the most exclusive luxury jewelry boutique downtown, the one with a waiting list months long. I stared at the number on the screen. Somehow, the pain in my stomach seemed to fade. There was no anger. No heartbreak. Only the exhaustion that came when the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. Chapter 2 The Last Straw When I pushed open the front door, the living room was completely dark. I did not turn on the lights. Instead, I made my way to the couch and sat down in the darkness. Darkness felt safe. At the very least, it spared me from looking at all the familiar things around me. At two in the morning, the electronic lock at the front door beeped. Conrad stepped inside, carrying the faint scent of alcohol and the chill of the night air. He switched on the living room light and visibly froze when he saw me sitting on the couch. "Why are you sitting in the dark? Couldn't sleep?" He kicked off his shoes as he spoke casually. "I couldn't sleep." I watched him hang his suit jacket on the coat rack. "How did things go in Valoria?" I asked the question lightly. Conrad paused for half a second. "Pretty smoothly. Just had meetings back-to-back all day. I'm exhausted." He walked over and automatically reached out to ruffle my hair. I tilted my head away. His hand froze in midair. A faint crease appeared between his brows. "What is it? Are you still upset about coming in last at the dinner tonight?" He withdrew his hand, sounding both helpless and indulgent. "Seraphina, you're 30 years old. Why are you still comparing yourself to those younger girls over something so meaningless?" I looked at the matter-of-fact expression on his face. "You never went to Valoria, did you?" The hand loosening his tie stopped. He lowered his gaze to me, and for a brief moment, panic flashed across his eyes. "Who told you that? Everyone at the company knew I was supposed to be in Valoria." He walked over to the water dispenser and poured himself a glass. "Summer forgot to turn off the speakerphone." Conrad stopped drinking. For nearly 30 seconds, neither of us spoke. Then he turned around and sighed. "Since you heard it, I won't hide it from you. You're right. I didn't go to Valoria. The flight was canceled." He pulled out a chair and sat down. His tone was so open and relaxed that he might as well have been discussing the weather. "Summer had a rough day at work and was crying about quitting. The project she's handling is finally gaining momentum. If she left now, it would be a huge loss for the company. As her boss, is it really that unreasonable for me to comfort an employee and send her a gift?" I stared at the face I had known for seven years. For the first time, it felt unfamiliar. "Does comforting an employee require calling her babe?" My voice was barely above a whisper. Conrad rubbed his forehead, irritation creeping into his expression. "Seraphina, can you stop being unreasonable? She just graduated from college. Girls that age fall for that kind of thing. I was just playing along and telling her what she wanted to hear. It didn't mean anything." He stood and walked to the entryway, retrieving a paper bag from his briefcase. "On my way back, I passed the university area and saw that place still selling roasted sweet potatoes. I grabbed one for you." He set the grease-stained paper bag on the coffee table. "Wasn't this your favorite? Eat it while it's hot and stop being mad." Then he turned and headed into the bathroom. A moment later, the sound of running water filled the apartment. I looked at the shriveled roasted sweet potato. Seven years ago, when we were broke, we had survived on a single roasted sweet potato between us. Back then, it had tasted sweet. But Conrad had forgotten something. Just last month, I had been diagnosed with stomach cancer. The doctor had repeatedly warned me not to eat hard-to-digest foods like this. The shower continued running. I rose from the couch and walked over to the coat rack. A length of pink ribbon peeked out from Conrad's jacket pocket. Carefully, I pulled it free. It was a certificate of authenticity from a luxury jewelry house. The item listed was a custom pink diamond necklace. Engraving: S&C. Summer and Conrad. So this was the meaningless little act he claimed was only for show. I slipped the certificate back into the pocket exactly as I had found it. Then I walked over to the coffee table, picked up the roasted sweet potato, and dropped it into the trash. It landed with a dull thud. Along with it went the last shred of hope I still had for him. Chapter 3 The Commission He Gave Away The atmosphere in the conference room felt strangely tense during the next morning's executive meeting. Conrad sat at the head of the table, flipping through the quarterly reports in front of him. Summer sat at the far end of the long table. Around her neck hung a sparkling pink diamond necklace. Her makeup was flawless today, and she looked positively radiant. "I've made some adjustments to next quarter's project assignments." Conrad closed the report and swept his gaze across the room. "The renewable energy account currently handled by Seraphina will be transferred to Summer." The room fell silent. I had spent three months on that account. Countless sleepless nights. Endless rounds of negotiations. More late-night drinking sessions than I could remember, to the point where I had ended up sick more than once. I had finally secured the client, and the contract was nearly ready to be signed. Now, with one casual sentence, he was handing it to someone else. "Mr. Brooks, isn't that against company policy?" The operations director finally spoke up despite his obvious reluctance. "Summer is still an intern. A project this large is beyond her experience." Conrad glanced at him, his eyes turning cold. "If she can't handle it, Seraphina can guide her. Seraphina is one of the company's founding employees. Helping train new talent is part of her responsibility." Then he looked at me. His tone left no room for disagreement. "Seraphina, do you have any objections?" I met his gaze and calmly closed my notebook. "No objections." Conrad seemed pleased by my compliance. He nodded slightly. "Good. Then it's settled. Meeting adjourned." He stood and walked out first. Summer gathered her files and approached my seat. The satisfaction on her face was impossible to hide. "Seraphina, I hope you'll teach me everything I need to know." "Not a problem." I organized the documents on the table and slid them toward her. "Everything about the client is in there. Their preferences, background, all of it. Read through it yourself." Without waiting for a response, I stood and walked straight toward the restroom. The moment I stepped into a stall, my stomach lurched violently. I doubled over the toilet and began vomiting. When it finally stopped, I looked down. Drops of blood stained the white tile floor. My eyes were empty. The faucet ran steadily as I splashed cold water onto my face. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Clara. "Seraphina, when are you coming to the hospital to schedule the surgery?" Her voice trembled as though she was struggling not to cry. "The doctor said the tumor is spreading fast. You can't keep putting this off." I pulled out a paper towel and slowly dried my hands. "Clara, I don't want the surgery anymore." Silence filled the line. A few seconds later, she exploded. "Have you completely lost your mind? Are you seriously throwing your life away because of that scumbag?" "It's not because of him." I stared at my reflection in the mirror. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. "They'd remove two-thirds of my stomach. Then there'd be chemotherapy afterward." I paused. "It's too much. I just want to finish the time I have left with some dignity." Clara broke down crying. After the call ended, I returned to my desk. A message from Conrad was waiting for me. "Seraphina, come to my office." I pushed open the door to the executive suite. Conrad stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, smoking. "Are you upset because I embarrassed you during the meeting?" He walked toward me and instinctively reached for my shoulder. I stepped back. His hand missed again. The frown on his face deepened. "Seraphina, you've been unusually distant lately. The reason I gave that account to Summer is that something happened in her family. She urgently needs money." He looked at me as though he were granting me a favor. "You own shares in the company. Your year-end dividends are more than enough. You don't need that commission." His voice carried a note of condescension as he added, "Be reasonable. Don't compete with a young girl over something so small." I looked at him. At the man who had once promised me everything. "Fine." My voice remained calm. "I won't compete with her." I held his gaze. "Conrad, are you free next Wednesday?" Chapter 4 The Report He Never Saw Coming Conrad clearly had not expected me to change the subject so abruptly. He paused, then walked over to his desk and opened his calendar. "Next Wednesday? I have an executive meeting in the morning, but my afternoon is open for now." He looked up, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Why? What's going on?" "Nothing major." I slipped my hands into my coat pockets, my fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the pill bottle inside. "I need to go to Riverdale Central Hospital. They need a family member's signature on some paperwork." Legally, he was not my family. But for a very long time, he had been the only family I thought I had. Conrad visibly relaxed. A faint smile even appeared on his face. "The hospital? What, you finally decided to get that minimally invasive procedure for your stomach polyps?" He still thought I was the Seraphina from last year, the one whose worst diagnosis had been mild gastritis. "Sure. I'll go with you Wednesday afternoon." He agreed so easily, as though it were the smallest promise in the world. "Okay." I did not correct his misunderstanding. I simply turned and left his office. Over the next few days, I quietly completed every handoff and transition task. I did not react when I saw Conrad and Summer together. I did not get angry. I did not get jealous. As someone preparing to leave, I watched from the outside as the fortress I had spent seven years helping build slowly drifted out of my hands. … Wednesday arrived. At one in the afternoon, I sat alone on a bench in the inpatient wing of Riverdale Central Hospital. The sharp smell of disinfectant filled the air. The dull ache in my stomach came in relentless waves. By two-thirty, Conrad still had not arrived. I called him, but his phone was turned off. Holding my phone in my hand, I stared at the harsh fluorescent lights at the end of the hallway. Then I noticed a new update from Summer. She had not blocked me. The post was visible only to company employees. "My silly boyfriend canceled a million-dollar meeting just to stay with me while I got my wisdom tooth removed." Attached was a photo taken inside an upscale private dental clinic. In one corner of the picture, half of a man's back was visible. A tailored suit. Broad shoulders. A familiar silhouette. I had looked at that back for seven years. I stared at the photo until my screen went dark. "Has your family member still not arrived?" My attending physician looked at me, concern etched across his face. "This is a consent form to discontinue aggressive treatment and transition to hospice care. We need a direct family member or legal representative to sign." "I don't have any family." The words had barely left my mouth before hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away. Then I pulled out my ID and the liability waiver I had already prepared. "I'm alone." My voice was steady. "If anything happens, I'll take full responsibility." The doctor looked at my reddened eyes and sighed. In the end, after I insisted, he allowed me to complete every document myself. Every signature was neat, steady, and unshaken. Afterward, I took a cab back to the apartment Conrad and I had shared for the past three years. The place looked exactly the same as when I had left that morning. I did not take a single expensive gift he had ever bought me. All I packed were a few old clothes and a diary from seven years ago. The suitcase looked pitifully small. It was not even half full. Before leaving, I placed the spare key on the coffee table. Beside it sat a manila envelope. Inside was a signed agreement returning my one percent ownership stake in the company. When everything was finished, I grabbed my suitcase and walked out without looking back. The lock clicked softly behind me. With that sound, seven years of my youth were sealed away forever. At eleven that night, Conrad came home humming softly under his breath. "Seraphina, I'm home." As usual, he called out while changing his shoes. Silence greeted him. No answer. His brows furrowed. He walked into the living room. The manila envelope on the coffee table immediately caught his attention. He picked it up and casually opened it. The first page was the stock transfer agreement. A cold laugh escaped him. He assumed it was another one of my attempts to get his attention. Then he flipped to the second page. His eyes landed on the thin sheet of paper beneath. Everything froze. It was a pathology report from Riverdale Central Hospital. At the bottom, a single diagnosis was printed in bold black letters. Advanced Gastric Adenocarcinoma. Stage IV.