The day I received my husband’s diagnosis report, he suddenly installed a camera in our master bedroom.
That night, I saw him swearing into the phone.
“I won’t touch her again. I’ve sent you all the account passwords—you can log in and check anytime.”
“I’ve decided… to remain faithful for love.”
Watching his flushed face, burning with emotion, I quietly slipped the diagnosis report into the shredder.
Remain faithful for love…
Fine.
Then remain faithful for the rest of your life.
When the letters ALS on Adrian Carter’s medical report came into view, my knees almost buckled.
Three months ago, Adrian had fallen during a mountain hike and been hospitalized. While he was there, I had asked the doctor to run a full examination, hoping for peace of mind.
Instead, this was the result.
“ALS currently has no cure,” Dr. Harrison told me gently. “Medication can only slow the progression, but the outcome is irreversible.”
There was sympathy in his eyes.
Adrian Carter was barely in his early thirties.
Handsome. Brilliant. Successful.
A nationally known divorce lawyer, he was decisive, sharp-minded, and famously rational—an elite among elites.
In private life he was disciplined and orderly, fond of fitness and mountain climbing, extremely particular about the quality of his life.
The thought that someone like him would one day become a patient unable to care for himself…
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