He did not think of Jesse Pinkman. He did not think of crystal meth. Not yet.
The breaking point came on a Sunday. He was folding laundry—a chore he actually liked for its quiet geometry—when a spasm bent him double. He caught himself on the dresser, and when he pulled his hand away, his palm was stippled with fine red mist. how did walter white get cancer
He looked up. For a moment, she saw something in his eyes she didn't recognize. Not sadness. Not fear. Calculation. He did not think of Jesse Pinkman