Your cancer can wait — Mom’s got a big birthday bash to celebrate…

James turned off his phone, unable to read more. Each word struck his heart because he knew they were right. He’d made an unforgivable mistake, caving to his mother’s manipulations. Now he paid with shame, contempt, and the loss of respect from friends and colleagues. But worst was the thought of Emily, alone in the hospital, without hope for surgery.

“Jimmy, why so glum?” Margaret plopped down beside him, flushed from champagne and adoration. “Look at this party! Everyone’s thrilled!” He looked at her, his eyes filled with despair and realization. Who was this woman? Was she really the same one who read him bedtime stories, baked pies on weekends, nursed his childhood illnesses? When did she become this selfish, attention-hungry creature, willing to sacrifice someone’s life for her own vanity?

“Mom,” he said quietly. “Do you realize what we’ve done?” “Of course I do,” she laughed. “Threw the best birthday party in town. It’ll be in all the papers, you’ll see.” “No,” he shook his head. “I mean the money we spent.” Margaret frowned. “Not this again. Listen,” she lowered her voice, “let’s not ruin the night with that talk. I told you, it’ll be fine. We’ll find money for your… wife’s treatment. Borrow, I’ll sell the diamonds if I have to. Just not today. Today’s my day, got it?”

A waiter approached with a tray. “Mrs. Thompson?” he asked. “You have a call.” He handed her the restaurant’s phone. Margaret raised her eyebrows. “Me? Odd. All my guests are here.” She took the receiver. “Hello?” James watched her face shift: confusion to shock, shock to outrage. “What nonsense is this?” her voice rose. “What money? What surgery? Are you insane?” The restaurant quieted, all eyes on the birthday girl. Margaret turned red. “How dare you threaten me? I’ll call the police!”

She slammed the phone down and glared at the crowd. “Some lunatic. Threatened me. Said something about treatment money, that I should be ashamed.” James lowered his head. He could guess who called. One of Emily’s friends, maybe Ethan or Jessica. Someone unafraid to tell Margaret what she refused to hear. “Can you believe it?” Margaret fumed. “On my birthday! Ruining such a celebration.” She turned to James. “Jimmy, this is because of your wife, isn’t it? She’s turning all her friends against me.”

“Emily’s not involved,” James said tiredly. “She doesn’t even know what’s happening. She’s in the hospital, Mom. Alone.” “Well, let her stay there,” Margaret turned away. “We’re celebrating. Where’s the emcee? Time for the cake.” The emcee, catching her cue, announced the grand moment. A massive tiered cake, adorned with sugar roses and 60 candles, was wheeled in. The band struck up “Happy Birthday,” and guests sang. Margaret, forgetting the call, beamed and hurried to the cake.

The candles were blown out, champagne poured, toasts made. The party rolled on with magicians, singers, dancers—top performers hired for a fortune, entertaining guests late into the night. James watched it all as if from a distance, like a stranger in someone else’s movie. Every glass of champagne, every bite of caviar, every note from the star singer—it all cost his wife’s life. And he’d let it happen.

As the night wound down and guests began to leave, Margaret, flushed and triumphant, approached her son. “Admit it!” she grinned. “Best party of your life. Definitely mine!” James looked at her long and hard. “You know, Mom,” he said slowly, “I learned a lot tonight. About myself. About you. About who we’ve become.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowned. “You’re right,” he gave a bitter smile. “This is unforgettable. A party that cost someone’s life.” “Don’t exaggerate,” Margaret scoffed. “No one’s dying. We’ll find the money, do the surgery if it’s so necessary.” “If it’s so necessary?” James shook his head. “Do you hear yourself? This is life and death, Mom. My wife’s life.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” she waved him off. “You know how doctors are. They scare you to milk money. Those diagnoses often clear up on their own. My neighbor Nancy—” “Stop,” James raised his voice for the first time in his life. “Just stop. You know nothing about her illness, her pain. You only think about yourself, always have. And me? I let you manipulate me, indulged your whims. Tonight, I crossed a line I never should’ve crossed.”

Margaret stared at him, stunned. She hadn’t expected this. “How dare you speak to your mother like that?” she hissed. “After everything I’ve done for you? I gave my life for you.” “No, Mom,” James shook his head. “You used me to fill the void in your life. You don’t let me live my own life, make my own choices, be a man. I realized that tonight. And I’m done letting you control me.”

He turned and walked toward the exit. “Where are you going? We’re not done!” But James didn’t look back. For the first time in 30 years, he felt he was making a real, adult decision. It might be too late, maybe irreparable, but it was his own.

The next morning found Emily in an odd state. She’d slept better than usual and woke with a sense that something had shifted. Outside, it was a gray, chilly day, but inside, a faint, inexplicable hope stirred. The door opened, and Sarah came in with a breakfast tray. “Morning,” she smiled. “How’re you feeling?” “Weird,” Emily admitted. “Like… lighter.” “That’s good,” Sarah nodded. “Really good. Because I’ve got news.”

She placed a morning newspaper on the nightstand. The headline blared: “High Society Scandal: Birthday Bash at the Cost of a Life.” Below it, a photo of Margaret in her gown and diamond necklace, clearly taken at the party. Emily picked up the paper with trembling hands and read: “A shocking story has rocked our city. The wife of prominent bank manager James Thompson, battling cancer, was left without a critical surgery after her husband spent $30,000 raised for her treatment on his mother’s 60th birthday celebration. The lavish event at the elite Riverside restaurant sparked public outrage after a social media post went viral.”..