Chapter 6

My breath caught in my throat. "Where did you get that?" I snapped, my first instinct defensive. "You went through my things?" Accusation, not explanation. My mind was a blank canvas of panic.

Olivia' s hand tightened on the paper, crinkling it. Her anger was a palpable force in the room. She slammed her other fist on the glass coffee table, the sound making me flinch. "Don't you dare turn this on me, Ethan! Is this true? Are you actually sick?"

Marcus appeared in the doorway, a picture of solicitous concern. "Olivia, darling, what' s wrong?" He rushed to her side, then his eyes fell on the paper in her hand. "Oh, that. I... I found it, Liv. In his room. I was looking for a spare charger, and it was just... lying on his desk." He made it sound like I' d left it out deliberately, a cry for attention.

He picked up the paper from her trembling hand, his brow furrowed in feigned confusion. "Leukemia? Ethan, is this some kind of prank? It' s not funny, if it is." He looked from me to Olivia, playing the concerned, bewildered fiancé.

I watched Olivia' s face. The anger was still there, but now it was mixed with a dawning, horrified suspicion. Not concern for me, but suspicion of me. She thought I was faking it. Faking a terminal illness to gain her sympathy, to disrupt her wedding, to manipulate her. The realization hit me with the force of a physical blow. She wouldn't believe the truth even if I screamed it.

So, I didn't. "It' s a prank," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Just a stupid prank. For a... a creative writing class." The lie tasted like poison. But what else could I do? Revealing my cryopreservation plan now, on top of this, would only confirm her worst fears about my instability.

Olivia stared at me, her eyes narrowed. "A prank? You think terminal cancer is a subject for a prank, Ethan?" She wasn't buying it. Not completely. "We' re going to the hospital. Right now. You' re getting a full check-up. We' ll see how funny this prank is then."

"No," I said, a spark of defiance. "I' m fine."

Her gaze was like iron. "You' re coming with me, Ethan. Now." There was no arguing with that tone.

At the hospital, sitting in a cold, sterile waiting room, I watched Olivia pace. If she knew. If she really knew I was dying, that this wasn't a game, how would she react? Would that flicker of concern I sometimes thought I saw ignite into something real? Or would it be overshadowed by annoyance, by the inconvenience of it all?

A doctor finally called us in. Dr. Vance. He had a smarmy, insincere smile. He did a cursory examination, asked a few questions. Then he turned to Olivia, his expression serious. "Mrs. Hayes... I mean, Ms. Hayes. Ethan is perfectly healthy. A little stressed, perhaps anemic from not eating properly, but there' s no sign of leukemia. The document you showed me must be a fabrication."

Marcus, who had materialized at Olivia' s side, let out a sigh of theatrical relief. "Oh, thank goodness. Ethan, you really had us worried there, buddy."

Olivia didn't look relieved. She looked at me, her face pale, but her eyes were like chips of ice. She' d noticed my pallor, the genuine weakness I couldn't hide. But Dr. Vance's words, the "expert" opinion, had clearly swayed her. And not in my favor.