If I could start all over again

I helped Sarah through college. She married me, claiming it was out of love and promising lifelong devotion. But the truth spilled out when she was drunk: "I wish you'd never helped me."

Thankfully, my life was short, sparing her too much regret. But if I hadn't held her back, she could have gone back to her true love. So why was she crying so hard at my grave?

…

"Ethan, can we get a family member?"

The nurse called out. I walked over quietly.

She frowned. "Why are you here alone? Where's your family?"

"I don't have any."

"But… it says here you're married?"

I gave a light, breezy laugh. "Getting divorced."

Her voice softened instantly. "Go on in, the doctor's waiting."

"Pancreatic cancer, stage four. Three, maybe four months if you're lucky."

The doctor's words echoed in my head. I had no one to share this with. I texted my wife: "Sarah, let's get divorced."

No reply for a long time. Then, a phone call.

"Ethan, what are you doing now?"

"I'm not…"

She interrupted. "I told you, there's nothing between me and Josh. We're old classmates, helping him out is perfectly normal, right?"

"Oh, normal, right," I replied listlessly. "I said I want a divorce."

"Enough. Stop messing around. You've been acting weird lately. I'm busy, so don't create drama."

—Click.

She hung up. I shrugged. I had gone through a frantic phase, scouring her social media, texts, everything, looking for traces of Josh.

Sarah finally snapped. "Ethan, you're sick."

Her words struck a chord. The doctor said I was sick too – anxiety. I collapsed clutching my stomach at the therapist's office. He rushed me to the hospital. Turns out, the anxiety was caused by the pancreatic cancer.

That explained my recent restlessness. I’d never been an anxious person before.

My first night in the hospital was restless. I dreamt of college. Of meeting Sarah.

"Hey, that girl's cute."

A group of us guys were walking, noticing a girl outside a department office, clutching a file so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Yeah, I know her. She's in the other class. Cute doesn't pay the bills. What, you thinking of playing white knight?"

The guy who'd mentioned her quickly shook his head.

"I heard she got screwed over on financial aid. They gave it to some girl with the latest iPhone and Air Jordans."

"Man, that's rough."

I listened to the gossip, glancing back at her. My parents had recently died in a car accident, leaving me a sizable inheritance. I wanted to do something good in their memory. I decided to help her.

I found her contact information and offered my support. I was forgetful and often missed the payments. She never pushed, but the rumbling of her stomach during class was a stark reminder.

I set reminders after that, making sure the money arrived on time. She always sent heartfelt thanks. We lived separate lives, I didn't intrude.

But fate arranged a second meeting. I'd go to the lake when I missed my parents. She happened to be passing by. "Hey, are you okay?"

I asked...