Terminal Cancer: My Husband's Young Secretary Says I'm Faking It

Terminal Cancer, Husband Falls for His Young, Juicy Secretary I return home after chemotherapy to find my husband in our marital bed with his secretary, their bodies intertwined in passion. Seeing me, the secretary giggles coyly: “Oh sis, don’t be angry. I’m just helping take some of the burden off you, since I was worried it might be too much for you to handle.” My husband casually lights a post-coital cigarette: “You never let me touch you anymore. You’re as cold as a dead fish in bed!” “I’ve been so pent up I’m about to lose it. Amber here has been working overtime to help you out. From now on, give her half your allowance!” On the verge of death, I cough up blood in shock. The secretary laughs at me, saying I must have bought fake blood to make such an unconvincing performance. My husband is embarrassed by me and ignores my unconscious state. He takes his secretary to a 5-star hotel to reignite their passion. But later, when he receives my critical condition notice, he goes mad.