My sister stole my husband from me. When she asked me for it five years later, I turned pale

Searching for reassurance

When I asked Jenna how much time she had left, my voice faltered as I tried to imagine the gravity of her situation. “Jenna, how much time do you have left?” I asked, barely able to keep my composure. She looked down at the floor and took her eyes off me. “Not for a while,” she whispered. I felt a wave of terror come over me, and the reality of her condition hit me harder than ever. I needed to know so that I could understand the extent of her situation.

My fears are confirmed

My fears were confirmed by Jenna’s sad smile and her reply of “4 or 5 months max”, which left me struggling with the impending loss. Her voice was soft, but full of sadness. “The doctors did whatever they could,” she said softly. As I felt a lump in my throat, the words slowly sank in. 4 to 5 months. In that time, we still had time. The idea that she would be lost so soon was unbearable.