Something inside me cracked.
“What’s going on?”
When she finally spoke, her tone was careful, controlled — as if she were trying to make the truth hurt less.
“I was diagnosed with early-stage ovarian cancer.”
The world narrowed to a single, suffocating point.
“When?”
“Before we divorced.”
The weight of it fell over me like a sentence being passed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She offered a small, sad smile.