I never thought I’d hear from my ex-wife again.
Not after she left six years ago, walking away without looking back, leaving behind a two-year-old daughter and a husband who had begged her to stay. Not after she disappeared, sending only a single postcard each year and a stuffed animal to remind us she was still out there, somewhere in the world.
“I can’t do this, Kian,” she had said back then, her voice empty, distant. She grabbed her coat from the hook, glancing briefly at our baby girl, Kylie. “But you can.”
And then, she was gone.
So when I received a message from her, my stomach twisted uncomfortably. It felt like a ghost had suddenly appeared from the past.
Hey! Remember me? Doctors say I don’t have much time left. It’s terminal. I just want to see you one last time. And Kylie. Please, let me!
I stared at the message, unsure how to feel.
I had moved on. My life was good now. I had remarried, built a new, happy family with my incredible second wife, Lillian. We had Kylie, now eight years old, and our little boy, Jake. Our home was filled with bedtime stories, baby giggles, and warmth I once thought I’d lost forever.
But how do you say no to a dying person?
Can you?
After thinking it over, I agreed to meet her.
She picked a small café for us to meet. When I arrived, she was already seated, stirring a cup of coffee with a steady hand. A little too steady for someone supposedly dying.
I sat across from her, trying to keep my expression neutral.
“So… how long do you have, Marissa?” I asked, keeping my voice level. “When did you find out? Are you sure?”
She sighed dramatically, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup. “It’s stage four. Maybe months, maybe weeks. Who really knows, Kian? But it’s been hard, you know?”
I nodded slowly, feeling a small, unexpected pang of sympathy.
“I’m sorry. Truly,” I said.
I didn’t love her anymore. I barely even liked her. But she had been my wife once. I had loved her once. And she had given me Kylie, the most precious gift of my life. So, a part of me felt something for her, even if it was just old memories.
She reached for my hand, but I pulled back instinctively.
“That’s why I wanted to see you,” she continued, her voice soft and pleading. “And Kylie. I need to see her, hold her. Just once…”
I hesitated.
“Marissa,” I said carefully. “You do know that Kylie barely remembers you, right? You left when she was two.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed her face, but she quickly masked it with a forced smile.
“But she got my gifts, right? The teddy bears? Doesn’t she know me as the person who always sent her toys?”
I swallowed down a bitter laugh.
The teddy bears? The once-a-year guilt gifts she never played with?
“She got them,” I said flatly.
She leaned forward, eyes wide with desperation. “I just… I just want to see her, Kian. I want to say goodbye. I need to say goodbye. I may have left, but I made her too, Kian. I carried her. My body did the work. So I get to see her, and I get to say goodbye.”
I let out a slow breath. As much as I didn’t want her near my daughter, I couldn’t deny her logic.
“Alright,” I said finally. “But you follow my rules. No surprises.”
Marissa nodded eagerly.
I didn’t realize then that I should never have opened that door.
The next day, the doorbell rang. Lillian and I exchanged glances—we weren’t expecting anyone. We had been in the kitchen, making ice cream sandwiches with the kids.
“I’ll get it,” I said. “But don’t eat anything without me!”
Kylie giggled as I headed for the door.
When I opened it, a massive teddy bear blocked my view. Then, a too-cheerful voice rang out.
“Surprise!”
I almost slammed the door in her face.
“What the hell, Marissa?” I hissed.
“I wanted to see Kylie. You said I could!” she chirped, pushing past me before I could stop her.
Kylie came skipping down the hall but paused when she saw Marissa.
“Hi, Kylie! It’s me, your mom!” Marissa said, almost giddy.
Kylie just stared at her. Then, she turned to me, frowning.
“Daddy… who is this lady?”
Marissa’s smile faltered. My heart clenched—not out of sympathy for her, but because she had done this to herself.
Lillian, cradling Jake, stepped in smoothly.
“Kylie, sweetheart, why don’t you finish your coloring? We’ll talk in a bit, okay?”
“But what about our ice cream sandwiches?” Kylie asked, pouting.
“We’ll have them later, sweet girl,” Lillian reassured her.
Kylie nodded and disappeared into her room.
Marissa forced a smile. “Kids, right?”
I should have thrown her out then. Instead, I let her stay for dinner.
Big mistake.
Over the next week, Marissa met Kylie at the park a few times. We never told our daughter about the “cancer.” It seemed pointless when she barely recognized Marissa as her mother.
Then Marissa dropped a bombshell.
“The doctors reassessed my condition,” she announced dramatically, clutching my arm. “It’s a miracle, Kian! There’s a chance I can live!”
I blinked slowly.
What?
“Wow, that’s… that’s great,” I said cautiously.
“Well, it’s not that simple,” Marissa continued, biting her lip. “I need treatment. A new trial. But it’s expensive.”
I should have known.
“How much?”
“$20,000.”
I exhaled sharply. “That’s a lot of money, Marissa.”
“I know,” she sighed, then turned to Lillian, her eyes shimmering with manipulation. “But Kian, please…”
Lillian glanced at me, hesitant. “I feel bad for her,” she admitted. “Maybe we can help…”
I considered it.
That was almost the biggest mistake of my life.
That night, Kylie walked into our room, clutching the teddy bear Marissa had given her.
“Daddy,” she said seriously. “She’s lying.”
My heart pounded. “What do you mean, sweet pea?”
Kylie squeezed the bear’s stomach. A distorted voice crackled to life.
“Yeah, I told Kian it was stage four. He totally bought it. Twenty grand just for some fake tears.”
I felt like the air had been knocked out of me.
The next day, I sent Marissa a message.
I have the money. Come and get it.
She arrived, eager. Kylie handed her an envelope. Marissa ripped it open—
And found $20,000 of Monopoly money.
Kylie crossed her arms. “If she’s fake sick, she gets fake money.”
Marissa’s face twisted in rage.
“You did this to yourself,” Lillian said coldly. “Now get out.”
As Marissa stormed off, I turned to Kylie, hugging her tightly.
“You saved us, sweetheart.”
She smiled. “You always say people have to earn things, Daddy. She didn’t earn us.”
And she was right.
