The CEO Learned I Had Cancer and Went Crazy

At the company dinner, my coworkers started a game: everyone texted their lover saying they’d fallen ill. Whoever’s man replied first won. No surprise, I came in dead last again. Both my calls and my texts went completely unanswered. “Claire, don’t feel bad. Mr. Blackwood is so busy, it’s completely normal he hasn’t seen your message.” A coworker smiled and tried to comfort me, but the truth was, I’d gotten used to it long ago. Forget a cold or a fever. Even the day I was diagnosed with cancer, I called him nineteen times, and he didn’t pick up once. When I stayed quiet, everyone turned to look at Vivian in the corner, and one coworker teased her with a grin. “Vivian, didn’t you say your boyfriend was super clingy? How come he still hasn’t replied?” Vivian clutched her phone, her face full of unease. “I’ll pass. What if he’s in a meeting? I don’t want to bother him.” The mood had gone stiff, and looking at her pale fingertips, I suddenly smiled. “It’s fine. It’s just a game.” Before she could refuse again, I leaned over and hit the speaker-dial for her. The call I’d expected no one to answer was picked up in an instant. The huge private room fell dead silent. Because the voice coming through the phone belonged to Adrian Blackwood, my forever-busy boyfriend of seven years. “Babe, don’t forget our date tonight.” “Seven o’clock. I’ll see you at The Laurent.” Chapter 1 “The Laurent? You mean that members-only place? I heard you can’t even get a table without someone to recommend you.” “Vivian, your boyfriend must be loaded.” The coworkers marveled one after another, and Vivian quickly said, “Got it,” and hung up in a hurry. She was so worked up that she knocked over the wine glass beside her, spilling wine all across the table. “He just got his bonus, so he splurged this once. We’re just ordinary people.” She kept her head down, pulling out a tissue to dab at the wine stain on her skirt, never daring to look up at me. “That’s still spoiling you, though! Who else would blow their hard-earned bonus on a single dinner?” “A place like that, only someone like Mr. Blackwood goes there regularly. Right, Claire?” A coworker looked at me. I held my glass, took a small sip with my head lowered, and spoke softly. “Yeah. He used to go there a lot.” Then I set the glass down and turned to Vivian, whose face had gone slightly pale. “He just never once invited me.” “I always thought that place was only good for business deals, as far as he was concerned.” I gave a faint smile. “Guess I had it wrong.” When I finished, the whole room went quiet. I knew everyone had recognized the voice on the other end of Vivian’s phone. It was Adrian. His voice was easy to place. Low and rough. They’d all been taking orders from him for years, so they knew it by heart. They just didn’t dare say so. Vivian’s face flushed red at once. “Claire, don’t get the wrong idea. My boyfriend’s voice does sound a little like Mr. Blackwood’s, but it really isn’t him.” “And a man like Mr. Blackwood, why would he ever look twice at me? So...” “Enough.” I cut her off. “It was just a joke. No need to get so worked up.” “Adrian told me he has an important business dinner tonight. He wouldn’t have time for The Laurent.” After that, I didn’t spare Vivian another glance. Everyone could tell I didn’t want to keep going with the topic, so they quickly started talking about a movie that had just come out. I leaned back on the couch and watched Vivian sitting in the corner, head down, thumbs flying across her phone. I had no idea who she was messaging, or about what. Just then, my phone lit up with a message. It was from Adrian. [Got a meeting tonight. Get some sleep early.] Reading that line, I gave a self-mocking little smile. Seven years together, all right. Even our lies were perfectly in sync with each other’s. I didn’t reply. After settling the bill, I got up and left the room early. Stepping out of the restaurant, the night wind hit me head-on, and the alcohol left me a little unsteady on my feet. I braced myself against the rough wall and walked on, until I suddenly heard the faint sound of a piano. The Laurent was right there on the corner. A few understated luxury cars were parked outside, and a valet bent down to open a door for a guest, his movements smooth and refined. I stood there, and suddenly thought back to years ago. Back then Adrian and I had just failed at our first startup, counting every coin just for the bus fare home. We’d walked past this very spot hand in hand, neither of us saying a word. Until a warm, golden light blocked my path. Behind the bright floor-to-ceiling windows, candlelight and flowers glowed in the warm gold light like another world. Adrian had looked down at me for a long moment, then suddenly gripped my hand. He said, “Claire, one day I’ll walk you in there myself, your hand in mine.” I gave a self-mocking smile. When I looked up again, a familiar Porsche pulled up at the entrance. Adrian got out, circled to the other side, and opened the door for Vivian. She took his arm, and with the attendant leading the way, walked into The Laurent. Through a pane of glass exactly like the one in my memory, I watched Adrian lean down and fasten a necklace around her neck. That necklace. I’d once stood in front of the display window staring at it for the longest time. Under the lights, Vivian blushed and lowered her head. Adrian leaned in and softly kissed her cheek. So he hadn’t forgotten those promises after all. He’d just found someone else to keep them for. And thinking about it, I felt no grievance, no anger. Only exhaustion. I quietly drew my gaze back and kept walking, letting the piano music fade slowly behind me. Chapter 2 I didn’t go home. At two in the morning, I sat alone on a bench by the sea, my stomach burning and stinging from the alcohol. That was when Adrian finally called. “Where are you? Why aren’t you back yet?” “Had too much to drink.” Twenty minutes later, Adrian’s car pulled over to the curb. He got out and walked up to me, and the second he saw the bottle in my hand, his face darkened. “Claire, have you lost your mind?” He pulled off his coat and draped it over my shoulders, an irritation in his voice he couldn’t quite hold back. “Don’t you know your stomach’s bad? Who told you to drink?” I said nothing. He bent down to look at me. “Why were you drinking?” I lifted my head and looked at him. “Because I walked past The Laurent.” Adrian went still. “I saw you and Vivian,” I said softly. He was quiet for a few seconds, then quickly regained his composure. “Since you saw us, there’s nothing for me to hide.” “Vivian’s been doing well on the branding project lately. I’m planning to move her to the president’s office.” “She’s never been in a setting like The Laurent before. She can’t come along to meet clients knowing nothing about any of it.” “I have to show her the ropes.” I looked at that familiar face and let out a thin smile. “Show her the ropes... Does showing her the ropes require a necklace worth hundreds of thousands of dollars?” Adrian frowned, a trace of impatience crossing his face. “Claire, don’t be so petty. It’s just a necklace.” “And then she won’t look shabby wearing it out with me. That’s called an investment.” Then, as if he didn’t want to keep talking about it, he turned and pulled a bag out of the car, holding it out to me. “Chestnut cake from The Laurent.” “You always wanted to try it, didn’t you? I grabbed you one on the way out.” I looked at the paper bag and didn’t take it. He frowned. “Claire, that’s enough.” “It was just a meal. There’s no need to be so sensitive.” “You said you’d had too much to drink, right? Eat something. It’ll settle your stomach.” The words had barely left his mouth when his phone rang. “Go on and eat. We’ll head home after.” Then he walked off a few yards down the beach and answered the call. The waves were loud, but I still heard every word. “Mm. Arrange the dinner seating the way I told you.” “Vivian sits next to me.” “Claire? She doesn’t like these events. Just put her at the staff table.” I looked down at the chestnut cake, then silently dumped it into the trash bin beside me. A soft plop. And with it, I threw away the last shred of hope I had left in him. Adrian came back, saw the empty cake box, and only then gave a satisfied smile. Chapter 3 The next day, the moment I stepped off the elevator at the office, I could feel something was off. Back at my desk, there was a personnel transfer notice waiting for me. Vivian Lane, transferred to executive assistant in the president’s office. Effective date: today. I looked at those lines and felt no surprise. Last night on the beach, Adrian had already told me himself. The rest of the company clearly just didn’t know yet. All morning, the office floor was unnaturally quiet. Near noon, I went to the break room for some water. I’d just reached the door when I heard someone inside, keeping their voice low. “How long has she even been here? Less than a year, right? And she’s already in the president’s office?” “Claire’s been with Mr. Blackwood since before the company even existed, and she’s still only an executive manager. How does that girl get to skip ahead?” “Who knows. Guess she’s got talent. If you could get something going with Mr. Blackwood, you’d move up too.” The voice cut off abruptly. The person turned around and met my eyes. The break room went silent in an instant. A few of them went pale and instinctively dropped their heads. I said nothing, just walked in with my cup and filled it halfway with warm water. Right then, there was a thud behind me. I turned around. Vivian’s cardboard box had hit the floor…files, a notebook, and bits of office supplies scattered everywhere. She stood in the doorway, her eyes red. And Adrian was standing right behind her. Clearly, he’d come in person to walk her over to the president’s office. Vivian looked deeply wronged, her voice trembling. “There’s really nothing going on between me and Mr. Blackwood!” “I’ve explained it so many times... Why won’t any of you believe me?” As she spoke, she turned to look back at Adrian, and the tears spilled over at once. “Mr. Blackwood, I’m used to people talking about me, but I don’t want you dragged into the rumors too.” “If no one here accepts me, then I don’t have to go to the president’s office.” “Just let me stay in my old position. I feel like I still have a lot to learn anyway.” Adrian’s face darkened in an instant, and the next second, his gaze landed straight on me. “Ms. Prescott.” He stared at me and asked, almost through gritted teeth, “As the head of the department, did you know about all this?” I set down my cup and looked at him calmly. “I did.” Adrian’s expression turned even uglier. “So this is how you let them spread rumors?” “Ms. Prescott, do you have any idea? Talk like this can destroy a person’s whole career.” Everyone in the break room paled, and one of them couldn’t help but jump in. “Mr. Blackwood, just now Ms. Prescott didn’t…” I raised a hand to stop her and spoke quietly. “Mr. Blackwood is right. I’ve been too lax as a manager.” Then I turned to Vivian. “Ms. Lane. Oh, forgive me…Mr. Blackwood’s new assistant now. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.” The break room was terrifyingly quiet. Vivian froze in place, forgetting even to let her tears fall. I looked around at the others, my tone perfectly even. “Let me also say this openly. There is nothing going on between Mr. Blackwood and Ms. Lane.” “Ms. Lane’s transfer to the president’s office is a normal personnel decision.” “Mr. Blackwood is the company’s top decision-maker. Who he chooses to assist him is his own prerogative.” “I trust Mr. Blackwood’s judgment, and I respect the company’s decision.” When I finished, I looked at the files and supplies scattered on the floor. I didn’t bend down to pick anything up. I just took half a step to the side, stepped over them, and walked straight out. Adrian watched me, his brow slowly furrowing. Behind me, not a single person spoke. It wasn’t until I was far down the hall that I heard Adrian call my name. “Claire.” Chapter 4 I didn’t go back to the office. I went straight to the restroom instead. The moment I pushed open the stall door, I started throwing up violently. They say the stomach is the organ of emotion. Turns out it’s true. I braced myself against the wall to stand, then called the hospital. The line had barely connected when the voice on the other end spoke. “Ms. Prescott, why haven’t you come in for your follow-up? Your condition really can’t wait any longer.” “Dr. Reed, I heard your hospital started a body donation program. Is that right?” The other end went blank, and it was a long while before he spoke. “What... what do you mean by that?” I looked up at the faint light through the window overhead and let out a soft laugh. “I don’t want treatment anymore.” “And there’s no treating it anyway, is there? What little time I have left, I want to keep for myself.” The other end let out a long sigh, settled on a time for me to sign the donation agreement, and then hung up. At noon, Adrian asked me to lunch at a restaurant nearby. He looked at me without a word, and only after a long while did he speak. “Are you still angry about me calling you out in front of everyone earlier?” I picked up a piece of meat, my tone distant. “Mr. Blackwood, you’re reading too much into it.” Hearing that title, his brow furrowed even deeper. “Claire, me and Vivian, it’s really not what you think.” I ignored him and just calmly took out my phone and kept scrolling. Adrian couldn’t stand my coldness any longer, and snatched the phone right out of my hand. The moment he saw what was on the screen, he froze. “You’re looking at plane tickets?” I nodded. On the screen sat a photo of hot air balloons in Turkey, and below it, a flight I’d just looked up. Adrian frowned. “Why the sudden urge to go somewhere so far away?” “I just want to see it.” I took my phone back and swiped down another page. “I also want to go to Tanzania. See the great migration once.” Adrian was quiet for a few seconds. “Claire, you know how busy I’ve been lately.” “The company’s seventh-anniversary dinner is almost here, Vivian just moved to the president’s office, and there’s a lot she hasn’t gotten the hang of yet.” I looked up at him. “So you don’t have time to go with me. Right?” He seemed caught by the question, and after a moment, he softened his tone. “It’s not that I won’t go with you. These places are just too far. It’s at least ten days round trip.” “Your health isn’t good, and with all that traveling, I’d just worry. ” I nodded, then looked down and closed the page, not pressing him, not looking at him again. Adrian watched me, his brow slowly knitting, and after a moment, he suddenly spoke up. “Next weekend, then.” Adrian took out his phone and scrolled through his schedule. “Turkey and Tanzania can wait for later.” “This time we’ll start with St. Mira Island. Two-hour flight, back Sunday night.” He looked at me, his tone almost like a concession. “That works, doesn’t it?” His voice was light, as if there would be countless trips like this. But I wasn’t even sure I’d have next month. I didn’t correct his mistaken assumption. I just watched quietly as he had his secretary book two tickets. That night, back home, I didn’t look up any travel guides for St. Mira Island. I booked a ticket to Istanbul instead. I didn’t know which day I would die, so I had to go to the places I most wanted to see first. Over the next few days, I started handing off my work, and my coworkers began to sense something was wrong. But no one dared to ask, and Adrian was busy training his new hire, Vivian, with no attention to spare for me. Soon it was Friday night. I was packing when Adrian suddenly called. “Claire, I’ve got a business trip this weekend. Your ticket’s on the table. Go clear your head on your own.” I looked at the ticket on the table and gave a soft answer. Adrian didn’t seem to expect me to be so calm, and he added one more thing. “When I’m back, I’ll take a long vacation and go to Turkey with you.” After I hung up, I suddenly felt relieved. Thank goodness, this time, I hadn’t waited for him again. That night, I organized all my handoff material into documents and sent them to my coworkers. Then I printed out my resignation letter and left it on the desk. Early the next morning, I took my suitcase and headed to the airport. Before security, I saw Adrian and Vivian. Vivian wore a pale, floor-length dress, her arm looped through Adrian’s. Adrian was pushing her luggage for her, his head bent, saying something to her I couldn’t hear, and she laughed until her eyes crinkled. I watched for a while, then turned and walked toward the other gate. More than ten hours later, I got into the car to Cappadocia. When the balloons rose, the sun had just broken over the horizon, and the whole sky was washed in pale gold. Right then my phone buzzed with a new post from Vivian. [A weekend trip as a reward from the boss. So happy.] In the photo, she sat by the sea, and the corner of the frame caught Adrian’s watch. That was the watch I’d bought him with nearly all my savings, back when the company first went public. I looked at it for a few seconds and was about to close it when a tourist beside me suddenly smiled and laid a hand over my phone. He pointed at the sunrise in the distance. “Miss, this is a moment to enjoy the view.” I paused. He was right. This was no time to waste my emotions on things like that. I turned off my phone and looked up into the distance. The balloons climbed higher and higher, and the wind rushed past my ears. I don’t know if it was because the view was too beautiful, or because my life was nearing its end, but my tears rolled down. After the balloon landed, the guide invited me to take a photo, and I’d just started to speak. A sudden metallic sweetness surged up my throat, and the next second, blood spilled out between my fingers. Everything around me erupted into chaos. “Miss!” Two days later, Adrian came home to a house drowned in darkness, and he frowned and called my name a few times. Not a single answer came back. That was when the resignation letter on the desk caught his eye, and in that moment, he laughed in anger. Adrian took out his phone and texted me, impatient. [So I didn’t go on a trip with you. Is that worth throwing a fit and quitting over?] [Claire, you’re not a child anymore.] After sending the texts, he tossed the phone aside in irritation and threw the resignation letter into the trash. Right then, a thin sheet of paper drifted out of the letter. At the very top, one line stood out in stark print. Late-stage stomach cancer.