Getting up quickly, he left his test results and the envelope on the doctor's desk and decided to head straight home.
Everything around him felt meaningless. Inside the car, as he drove, he felt weightless, as if everything was on autopilot. The other vehicles and people passed by, but his mind was completely blank.
When he got home, his wife came to greet him, full of excitement, but he walked past as if nothing was there. He decided to head straight to the bedroom. Once there, he collapsed onto the bed like a rock and immediately fell asleep.
Hours passed until his wife approached the foot of the bed, holding the phone in her hands.
"Love, love, wake up."
"Not now. Let me sleep, woman."
"It's your doctor. He wants to talk to you."
"Not now! I've already said everything I needed to say to him…"
"Okay, but we're going to have a conversation later."
His wife, visibly upset, left the room and continued talking on the phone. He knew the doctor probably wanted to discuss his condition and treatment, but he just wanted to forget all of it. He wanted to wake up and find that it had all been just a nightmare. He could still hear his wife talking in the background, but he eventually drifted back to sleep.
To him, it felt like only minutes had passed, but the sunlight of dawn was already bothering him. It didn't make sense, he thought. After all, he had gone to bed at four in the afternoon; there was no way he had slept that long. Picking up his phone, he checked the time—it was already 7:22 in the morning.
"I can't believe I slept that much... Love, love."
His wife, lying next to him, grumbled incomprehensibly. She seemed very irritated.
"Better leave her alone," he whispered softly, trying not to annoy her further.
He then quietly got out of bed and decided to prepare breakfast for the two of them. He knew he hadn't treated her well, and it weighed on his conscience. His wife was a wonderful partner to him, and he had no complaints. Treating her that way, no matter how bad the news, wasn't right.
When he arrived in the kitchen, he saw his test results and the envelope on the table. Along with them was a handwritten note, which appeared to be from his wife. It read:
"Dear Mr. Grumpy, your doctor called to say you had forgotten your test results. I told him you didn't want to talk at the moment, and he said he understood and asked me to be patient with you (not easy, huh?). So, he offered to drop them off here after work. And here they are!
I hope you've calmed down, because we're still going to have that conversation!"
He couldn't help but smile as he read the note, but a wave of concern soon washed over him. Just thinking about having to break the news to his wife made his spine tingle. He also knew she would probably understand his behavior, but he couldn't imagine saying goodbye to her.
He picked up the test results and began looking through them sheet by sheet. It was clear that it hadn't been a dream. After reviewing all the results, he remembered the stranger who had barged into the doctor's office and already knew the diagnosis.
"That guy is insane! You don't do something like that! But… how did he know? How did he know I had cancer and only three months to live? He must have overheard it behind the door… From the future, hahahaha, nonsense! That's impossible! He said I'd believe him when I started reading the letters. Yeah, right!"
He grabbed the envelope, stared at it for a long time, and then tossed it back onto the table.
"Nonsense! That's impossible! I'll just make coffee. That'll be more productive."
He started boiling water but couldn't resist and ran back to open the envelope. Inside, he found a stack of papers held together by a clip at the bottom. He inspected them, turning the pages over and murmuring to himself.
"Wow, that's a lot of paper! What's all this for? What kind of crazy proposal does that guy have for me? Guess we'll find out."
As he stopped flipping through the papers, he saw a bold title on the first page:
"Your Final Accounts and Your Mission."