After sixteen years of marriage, my husband Adam asked for a two-month break. The words hit me like a tidal wave. No
explanation, no fight — just a quiet request and a suitcase packed before I could even process it. He moved in with his mother,
and I was left staring at our shared life, now full of silence and unanswered questions. I was convinced he was cheating. What
else could it be? People don’t just walk away from everything without a reason. Weeks crawled by, each one heavier than the
last. I stopped sleeping. Every time my phone buzzed,
my heart raced — hoping it was him, fearing what he might say. Then one night, I passed by his mom’s house and noticed a
home health nurse’s car parked out front. My gut twisted. Something didn’t add up. I called a neighbor, desperate for clarity —
and the truth shattered me. Adam wasn’t leaving me. He was fighting for his life. He had been diagnosed with stage two lung
cancer. He hadn’t told me because he wanted to shield me from the pain,
