My cousin folded her arms across her chest and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Don't listen to her nonsense! Men don't have breasts, how could they possibly get breast cancer?"
"You bitch, you're just jealous of me and Damien's love! You came here to disgust us!"
"I won't let you get away with this!" With that, my cousin charged towards me with an overbearing air and tore the diagnosis paper to shreds.
"How dare you curse my husband! I'll rip this to pieces!"
I stood by, calmly watching her tear it up.
"Oh, by the way, remember to notify me when you're planning the funeral. I'll be there to collect the insurance money!"
Looking at the number above Damien's head, I calmly said, "You've spent all your savings. While you're still alive, you might want to take out a loan and pick out a grave plot in the back hills for yourself."
From start to finish, my attitude remained composed, not at all like someone with late-stage cancer.