Ellis watched the whole thing. Or, most of it. After the diagnosis, after the cancer was declared terminal, a website was built to document Jane's final days. He found it immediately. He'd been searching for her ever since the break-up.
After the police had contacted him to ask that he not call any more, he had no other avenue. He had to keep track. He had to know. That's all. The website's photos reminded him of what had happened, how she'd treated him. She even had the gall to use a photo he'd taken before she returned home to her fiancée.
The women he dated from the internet were all nice. He loved them all and they all left with no trace. He couldn't track them. Myspace pages were blocked; e-mail accounts were deleted; some had used throwaway cell phones and cancelled them. Eventually the numbers were reassigned to strangers, sometimes men.
But Jane was different. She offended his pride and for that she got cancer. Ellis was furious that he could not do more. Yet, he still had to look at the photos from her marriage to that mouth-breathing plumber or whatever that loser was. She was bald, smiling in a white dress.