Chapter 3

On the third day, the chemo side effects hit all at once.

I hunched over the trash can and threw up until there was nothing left but bile.

My hair came out in handfuls on the pillow, and my face had gone bone white.

That afternoon, Cecil finally noticed I was gone.

He called my phone from a number I didn't recognize.

The second I answered, his voice came through, tight with the anger he was barely holding down.

"Sonia Fox, you've grown a spine? You think you can block me?"

In the background, Roberta cooed, "Cecil, come taste these grapes, tell me if they're sweet enough."

Cecil ignored her and let out a cold laugh into the phone. "I went back to the apartment. Half your things are gone. What, you sold them? If you were short on money, you couldn't just ask me? You had to pull something this cheap to get my attention?"

"Six years living off me, off everything I gave you, and now you've got an attitude."

I leaned against the raised arm of the hospital bed, watching the medicine drip down the IV line. "Cecil, let's break up."

For three seconds there was dead silence on the other end.

Then came his voice, so furious it turned into a laugh, thick with mockery. "Sonia Fox, what game are you playing now? Because I took Roberta to the Maldives, you're using a breakup to force my hand?"

"Roberta's health is fragile. I looked after her a little, so what? Do you really have to keep score like this? You used to know how to behave."

"Do you have any idea how long I've been planning our sixth-anniversary proposal? I booked every screen in the city. You pull this stunt now, are you trying to make me call the whole thing off?"

He was certain I wouldn't dare, because he knew how badly I wanted a home, knew how humbly I'd spent six years currying his favor.

He thought all he had to do was dangle the word "proposal" and I'd come crawling back, wagging my tail.

"Do whatever you want." A vicious pain tore through my stomach, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

The dark red stain landed on the white sheet, stark and horrible.

Cecil heard me coughing, and his tone went colder still. "How many times have you played the sick card now? Always your stomach. Can't you come up with something new?"

"You think you've been so wronged? Let me tell you something, Sonia Fox. Without me, you wouldn't even have a roof over your head. Everything you have, I gave you!"

"I'm warning you, my patience runs out. If you're not back here on your knees apologizing before midnight tonight, the proposal is off for good!"

"After that, you can beg me on your knees and I won't spare you a single glance."

His words were a rusted saw dragging back and forth across my nerves.

I pulled out a tissue and wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth.

"Cecil, I'm not begging you anymore."

"Save your proposal for Roberta Henson. I don't want it."

And with that, I hung up and dropped this number into the block list too.

The pain was so violent it curled me into a ball on the bed, cold sweat soaking through the hospital gown.

When the doctor came on rounds and saw the blood on the sheet, his face changed. "Get her to the ER, now! The patient may be bleeding internally."

They wheeled me onto the gurney, and the fluorescent lights along the ceiling of the hallway streaked past above me.

Through the haze, I heard a nurse calling urgently in my ear, "Sonia Fox! Don't sleep! Stay awake!"

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, wanting to tell her I was just so tired.

Six years of chasing. I'd burned through every last bit of my strength, and all I wanted now was to sleep.

The ER doors slammed shut, and the harsh surgical light came on.

I closed my eyes and let the darkness swallow me whole.