On Valentine's Day, my wife went to check into a hotel room with her male assistant

It was Valentine's Day. Emily's young assistant, Ethan, posted an update on Instagram.

"Business trip on Valentine's Day, hotel's fully booked, forced to share a room with my gorgeous boss!" The photo showed a shirtless Ethan, panning across the luxurious hotel room. Behind him, a woman was visible only from the back, wrapped in a towel, her hair up, revealing a slender arm.

Someone commented, "Lucky you!"

Ethan replied with an emoji and the words, "Wouldn't mind waking up next to her."

I liked his reply.

Minutes later, Ethan called me, frantically explaining it was just a joke, nothing more. Emily snatched the phone, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"A shared hotel room is all it takes to set you off?"

"Get a life, Paul. Stop stalking everyone around me."

She then turned to comfort Ethan, "Don't mind him. He's always paranoid."

Listening to Ethan's chuckle on the other end, I silently hung up. Four years of pining, four years of dating, two years of marriage. Ten years of being Emily's doormat. I was done.

1.

When Emily got home, I was indulging in a bowl of instant ramen. Ever since she publicly mocked my love for "lowbrow junk food," I hadn't touched it for six months. Emily walked over, wrinkled her nose, grabbed the bowl, and dumped it into the toilet.

"It stinks."

She placed a box of fancy tea in front of me. "Ethan got this for you."

"He's just a kid fresh out of college. You scared him so bad he almost deleted his account. He insisted on apologizing in person."

Looking at the bright green box with the words "Stress Relief Tea" printed on it, I said slowly, "Nice tea."

Emily glanced at me and handed me her phone. "Call him. Say thank you. Apologize. Let it go. You're acting like a child. Even a twenty-something-year-old has better manners."

I remained seated.

She shoved me. "He apologized! What's your problem?"

The shove, fueled by annoyance, landed squarely on an old shoulder injury from a car accident years ago when I saved Emily's life. I clutched my shoulder, sweat beading on my forehead from the pain.

She finally looked concerned. "I'll get you some painkillers."

I looked at her with a complex mix of emotions, wanting to stop her, but I held back. The medical report confirming precancerous changes in my intestines had been in my pocket for two days. The doctor warned me about medication due to the uncertain nature of the condition. I had planned to tell Emily after her business trip, to discuss treatment options. After all, she was my only family.

Emily rummaged through the medicine cabinet, then stopped. "Where are the pain…?" Her voice trailed off as realization dawned on her face. I suddenly remembered Ethan's comment: "My boss is so thoughtful. I just twisted my ankle, and she immediately gave me her painkillers."

Normally, I would've sarcastically asked if she'd given them to Ethan. But now, it didn't matter.

"I'll go buy some," I said.

Emily stopped me. "Don't move. I…"

Her phone rang. She glanced at th...