If He Dies, He Dies

I poured my life, my health, into Vicky Sterling's startup.

Now she's a celebrated CEO, and I’m just a recovering patient, battling Crohn’s.

Her "conceptual artist" lover, Julian, fills our home with his presence.

One evening, Julian, knowing my strict diet, offered me a rich, forbidden pasta.

Under his watchful smirk, I took a bite.

Within the hour, internal fire consumed me.

I crawled to Vicky, begging for the hospital, but she dismissed my agony.

She called me "dramatic," prioritized Julian's fake illness, and brutally kicked my surgical scars.