Theater: NovelMaster | Language: English | NEW
Synopsis
I stood outside the hospital room, clutching my critical condition notice, listening to Kelly whimpering affectionately into Zachary’s chest.
"Zach, thank God you altered the medical records. Otherwise, I never would’ve gotten that kidney donor match."
Zachary’s response was bone-chillingly cold.
"Chloe is too selfish. She always acts like the world owes her something. Reassigning her spot will humble her. It’ll teach her some gratitude."
I looked down at the words stamped in bold red on my surgical notice: *Urgent Transplant Required.*
Suddenly, twenty years of loyalty felt like a cruel joke.
Nine years by his side. Three years of marriage. And in his eyes, my desperate fight to survive was nothing more than "arrogance that needed humbling."
Fine. If he wanted my life, he couldn’t have it.
And I was done keeping him, too.
"Done talking?"
I pushed the door open. Kelly slowly sat up from Zachary’s arms.
Zachary didn’t flinch. A cigarette dangled between his fingers, ash drifting onto the floor.
He looked at me, his face blank enough to freeze the room.
"How much did you hear?"
He asked it casually, like asking what was for dinner.
"Starting right from 'thank God you altered the medical records.'"
Kelly’s reaction was even faster than I expected.
Her eyes rimmed with red, her lips trembled, and her fingers clutched Zachary’s sleeve.
"Chloe, I didn't know Zach falsified the records... I swear I never asked him to do that..."
I stared at her.
The cream-colored cardigan she was wearing today was the exact one I’d given her during my winter chemo round. She had come to visit and complained about how chilly the corridor was, so I took off my only warm coat and handed it to her.
She was still wearing it today.
"Zachary, I only have one question for you."
He stubbed out his cigarette.
"Go ahead."
"I waited fourteen months on the transplant list for that match. Who gave you the right to reassign it to someone else?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, acting like I was an annoying math problem.
"Chloe, can you stop being so dramatic for once?"
"I’m speaking to you calmly."
"No, you’re not." He stood up. "You’re interrogating me. We’ve been married for three years. When has this family not put you first? Kelly has severe liver dysfunction. I secured a spot for her, and you lose your mind?"
My nails dug deep into my palms.
"What liver dysfunction?"
Kelly looked down, letting tears drop silently.
Zachary answered for her. "She was diagnosed last year. We kept it from you so you wouldn't overthink."
I stared at Kelly.
Last year at this time, she had just returned from Miami. Her Instagram feed was packed with bikini beach photos, teeth gleaming in the sun.
Someone with end-stage organ dysfunction went deep-sea scuba diving.
I had spent a year and a half in pre-med, and that was news to me.
But I didn't call her out.
Because I knew Zachary too well—he believed her.
Right now, any doubt I voiced would only earn me four words in his head: *selfish, paranoid, bitter, toxic.*
I pulled off the band on my ring finger.
A simple platinum ring worth barely a thousand bucks. When we got married, he said wedding rings didn't need to be flashy, that "it's the thought that counts," and told me to pick one out myself.
It had taken me six months of saving to buy it.
I placed the ring on the nightstand, right beside my critical condition notice.
Zachary’s expression flickered for a fraction of a second.
"What is this supposed to mean?"
"Give her the spot. My life is mine to keep or throw away."
Kelly suddenly lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with shocking strength, digging red marks into my skin.
"Chloe, don't leave! I don't want the kidney anymore! Please don't give up on treatment..."
I looked down at her manicured fingers digging into my forearm.
It was an arm riddled with needle punctures—after two years of dialysis, there wasn't a single patch of smooth skin left.
I pulled away gently.
"Take it."
I looked into her eyes. "Take the kidney, and take Zachary with it. I won't fight you for either."
She froze.
As I walked out of the hospital wing, my phone buzzed.
It was my mother.
I picked it up.
Her voice exploded through the speaker before I could even say hello.
"Chloe, are you picking a fight with Kelly again? Zachary's mother just called me, saying you're acting out again! Couldn't you just yield the spot to your sister? Kelly grew up without parents. Do you have any idea how much trauma she carries—"
I leaned against the hallway wall and slowly slid down into a crouch.
"Mom, that kidney was supposed to save my life."
"Stop using death to guilt-trip me."
Silence hung between us for two seconds. I asked one last question.
"Mom, if I actually died, would you even care?"
The other end went dead quiet for a long time.
"Listen to the nonsense coming out of your mouth."
She never answered."Are you certain you want a divorce?"
Lauren’s voice cut through the receiver, as crisp and no-nonsense as ever.
"Certain."
"Tomorrow morning, eight sharp at my firm. Bring your ID and your marriage certificate."
She was my college roommate, now a top family law attorney. Four years sharing a dorm meant she knew who I was far better than my own mother ever did.
After hanging up, I hailed a cab home.
The keypad code hadn't changed.
The moment the door opened, the heavy scent of gardenia perfume hit my nose.
It was Kelly's signature scent.
I couldn't stand strong fragrances—two years of dialysis had heightened my senses, and heavy perfumes made me violently nauseous.
Zachary knew this.
The master bedroom door was halfway open.
The right side of the closet was entirely filled with dresses I had never seen before—florals, velvets, silks, tags still attached.
My clothes had been shoved into the far left corner: a few pilled cotton tees and a worn grey coat I’d worn for four years.
I opened the bedside drawer. The jewelry box was there, but one item was missing.
My grandmother's diamond bracelet.
She had spent a lifetime of savings to buy it. On the day she passed away, she held my hand and said, *Chloe, this is the most valuable thing I can leave you.*
I tore the room apart. It wasn't there.
I opened Kelly's Instagram. A selfie from three days ago showed her holding a latte, a glittering bracelet gleaming on her left wrist.
Caption: *A blessed day~ Grateful for everything.*
While the phone was still in my hand, a bank notification popped up.
Joint account balance: $482.
Last month, it had over seventy thousand dollars.
I pulled the transaction history. Every single withdrawal had gone to the exact same recipient:
Kelly.
Descriptions read: "Check-up fee," "Consultation fee," "Living allowance."
Amounts ranged from five hundred to ten thousand dollars.
I sat on the edge of the bed as my screen dimmed and lit up again.
The front door clicked. Zachary was back.
He walked into the bedroom, glanced at the clothes scattered across the mattress, and frowned.
"What are you digging through?"
"Where did the seventy thousand dollars go?"
"It’s a joint account. What difference does it make whose money it is? Kelly needs money for medical treatments. I told you that."
"You said you'd 'lend her some.' You didn't say you'd drain seventy thousand."
He unbuttoned his collar, taking his sweet time. "Why do you have to calculate every penny? No wonder people say you're—"
He stopped himself.
"Say I'm what?"
He didn't reply.
I already knew the rest. *Say you’re full of bitterness.* The exact words he whispered to Kelly in that hospital room.
"Where is my grandmother's bracelet?"
Zachary paused while pouring a glass of water. "Kelly tried it on when she visited last time. You were in the room. You didn't object."
I had been there.
Kelly had picked up the bracelet, her eyes wide like an innocent child's, saying, *I just want to see how it looks on me.*
Trying it on meant looking at it.
It didn't mean stealing it.
"Zachary, did you move her into the master bedroom too?"
"It isn't safe for her to live alone out there."
"Then where am I supposed to sleep?"
He gave me a look, seemingly baffled by why I was even asking.
"Isn't the guest room empty?"
A sharp spasm ripped through my stomach.
My transplant spot was gone. My money was gone. My bracelet was gone.
Even my own bed wasn't mine anymore.
I walked toward the guest room.
A bare mattress, no duvet, and an old, yellowed pillow.
Behind me, Zachary’s voice chased my heels.
"Chloe, you need an attitude adjustment. Kelly has nothing, while you have everything—a family, a degree, a husband. What’s so terrible about sharing a little? Don't be so selfish."
I turned around to look at him.
"Zachary, the only thing she hasn't taken from me yet is my heartbeat. Tell her to get in line and take that, too."
His brows knitted into a tight scowl. "Can you stop talking like that? You sound like an unhinged psycho.""Chloe, you’re here! Sit down, hurry."
Zachary’s Aunt Clara grabbed my hand and looked me up and down.
"Why have you lost so much weight? You look terrible. Is Zachary not feeding you?"
She said it with a laugh.
Not a concerned laugh, but a mocking one.
Inside the private dining room, the whole family was already seated around the table.
Kelly sat right beside Zachary’s mother.
That seat had been mine for three years.
Seeing me, Kelly jumped up immediately.
"Chloe! Let me grab you a chair."
She dragged a flimsy folding chair over to the corner of the table, placing it farthest from Zachary and closest to the kitchen door.
"The AC doesn't blow directly here. You're fragile, Chloe, so you'll be comfortable here."
Zachary’s mother watched her with a proud nod.
I sat down without a word.
Mrs. Sterling raised her wine glass and cleared her throat. "We’re all here for a happy occasion today, and I want to introduce someone properly. Kelly has been staying with us for a while now. Such a sweet, sensible girl. She cooks, bakes, cleans, does everything—"
She took Kelly’s hand, presenting her to the gathered relatives.
"I’m telling you, she's more attentive than my own daughter."
Aunt Clara chimed in. "Honestly, if Zachary had married Kelly back then—"
Halfway through, Clara caught my eye and swallowed her chuckle.
She didn't need to finish.
Everyone at the table understood.
Kelly stood up to raise a toast to Mrs. Sterling. "Happy sixtieth birthday! I promise to take good care of you from now on."
"Good girl, such a good girl." Mrs. Sterling’s eyes shone with touched tears.
Polite applause rippled through the room.
Not a single soul looked at me.
I lowered my head and chewed a forkful of vegetables.
I couldn't taste anything; prolonged dialysis had severely dulled my taste buds.
In the past, whenever we attended family dinners, Zachary would fix my sauces and pick out ingredients I couldn't stomach.
Tonight, sitting to his mother's right, he didn't spare me a single glance.
A few rounds of drinks later, Zachary spoke up.
Not to me.
To the entire table.
"You might have heard about recent developments at home. Chloe and I are going through some adjustments. But this is between the two of us, so please don't gossip."
Aunt Clara gave an exaggerated nod. "I knew it! I could tell things were off between you two—"
Mrs. Sterling cut her off with a cold scoff.
That single scoff spoke volumes. Every pair of eyes turned toward me, drenched in judgment.
Across the table, Kelly lowered her head, looking suitably distressed while twisting her napkin.
My fingertips began to turn ice-cold.
Not from emotion—literally freezing, the backs of my hands and knuckles swelling rapidly.
A telltale sign of renal failure. I knew my body too well: swelling first, then nausea, then total darkness.
"Chloe?"
Kelly noticed first. She sprang up and half-knelt beside me, gripping my shoulders with a voice dripping with loud, theatrical concern.
Loud enough for the entire room to hear.
"Chloe, are you okay? Don't scare me like this—"
I tried to say I was fine.
Blackness engulfed my vision. I couldn't even grip the edge of the chair.
As I collapsed toward the floor, the last thing I saw was Zachary, still seated, swirling the wine in his glass.
He didn't even stand up.
When I regained consciousness, I was inside a rocking vehicle.
The sharp scent of rubbing alcohol filled my nostrils.
An ambulance.
A hand rested on my arm—Kelly.
She had her head turned, whispering into her phone, assuming I was still unconscious.
"...Don't worry, Zach, I'm going with her. Stay with your mom, I've got this covered."
She hung up.
Two seconds of absolute quiet.
Then, her fingers slid into my coat pocket.
My keys, along with the twice-folded critical condition notice—her fingertips brushed through them one by one.
I struggled to swat her hand away, but my limbs were dead weight, as if my bones had been hollowed out.
Her lips leaned down right against my ear.
Her voice was a soft, mocking whisper, like soothing a dying dog.
"Chloe, just rest easy. Everything that used to be yours... I’ll take real good care of it for you."
Chapters (3)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Watch & Promotions
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