On the day I was diagnosed with terminal cancer, my husband Marcus Ellington did not accompany me to the hospital. Instead, he handed me a contract for a divorce reality show — all because he had lost another bet on purpose to his secretary Isabella Winslow, wagering my marriage, career, child and even my last shred of dignity as bargaining chips.
He once forced me to shoot adult films and failed to keep his promise to keep the footage confidential. The explicit clips went viral all over the internet overnight, turning me from the youngest award-winning actress into a scandalous woman despised by everyone. Now he wanted me to play along with Isabella on camera to finish their hundredth bet.
Little did he know that I did not have many days left to live, and I had long made arrangements for my own funeral. Throughout the show’s filming, he abandoned me time and again for Isabella. On one occasion, he even left my gravely ill self stranded in a snow-capped mountain, exposed to bitter winds and wild wolves.
When Marcus finally waited for my final decision at the show’s finish line, he heard my pre-recorded last words and learned that I had chosen divorce every single time. After my death, my soul was trapped by his side. I watched him break down and drown in regret as he discovered my cancer diagnosis, and witnessed all the truth about Isabella laid bare online: she had forged her identity, leaked the secret footage, and caused the loss of my child.
