The Last Three Days Chapter 1

A torrential rain poured on a bleak morning when the doorbell suddenly rang. It was my ex-husband, whom I’d divorced ten years ago.

Last night, I’d called him all night. He’d picked up, but said nothing. Today, he had come only to tell me to stop bothering him.

I would never trouble him again. I had been diagnosed with cancer. Late stage.

* * *

The doorbell rang with increasing urgency. I scrambled to my feet, knocking my medication bottle to the floor. The delivery guy, clutching a package, his face a mask of impatience, froze and started to stammer: “H-hello… your p-package…” He set it down, then turned and ran.

I looked at the empty hallway and let out a self-deprecating laugh. On a typhoon day like this, who else would come to see me besides delivery people?

I picked up the package, and suddenly heard the sound of dripping water. Drip. Drip.

I slowly turned around. John Miller, completely drenched, stood at the end of the hallway. Outside, the wind howled and the rain lashed down. I suddenly remembered a saying: The person who loves you will cross a storm to see you, even on a typhoon day. And he had come. Did that mean he still loved me?

But a single sentence shattered all my illusions. He said: “Mia, we’ve been divorced for ten years. I hope you’ll stop bothering me.”

Ten years without seeing him, and just one sentence made me lose all reason. I rushed forward, wanting to grab his soaking wet sleeve and demand answers. Why could he just divorce me? Just leave? Disappear for ten years without a word?

But before I could speak, tears sprang to my eyes. In the end, I could only repeatedly sob: “How could you do this…”

His face showed no emotion: “Mia, calm down.”

A digital beep came from the door across the hall. “Incorrect password, please try again.” My neighbor glanced over, startled, I wondered how much she had overheard.