Chapter 2

Justin made it back to the hospital in less than thirty minutes.

Out of breath, he caught Chloe in his arms right outside the hallway and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Chloe, you're going to live. You're finally saved."

Tears welled up in Chloe's eyes. She leaned into his chest, her shoulders shaking with soft sobs.

"Justin... but if I can't have you, I'd rather give up this heart..."

Hearing that, Justin wrapped his arms around her even tighter. He kissed her forehead tenderly, his voice fierce with promise. "Don't say that. I'm going to divorce Clara. I swear it."

"I only married her in the first place... to get back at you."

Even though the whole world already knew it, hearing those exact words spill directly from his lips still tore my heart to shreds.

So he truly loved Chloe that much.

Five years of devotion, and I had never managed to make him care about me even a fraction as much.

While my chest ached in silence, Justin finished soothing Chloe and told the nurses to prep her for surgery. Then, he led Brandon into the scrub room.

Harvesting an organ was routine muscle memory for a surgeon of his caliber.

Yet the moment he stepped up to the table and saw the blood-soaked, mangled form, he couldn't help but frown.

"Brandon, why wasn't the donor prepped or cleaned up before being brought in?"

Brandon stiffened, too terrified to meet Justin's eyes.

He stammered, "Dr. Vance, finding a match for Ms. Stone took a miracle. We... we had to move fast to ensure the organ stayed viable, right?"

Justin didn't argue. He held out his gloved hand, and Brandon slapped the scalpel into his palm.

Just as Justin positioned the blade, his hand paused.

I followed his line of sight. He was staring at my left hand. On my ring finger, a diamond band sat coated in dark crimson blood.

I had designed that ring myself. Back when we got married, I had forged a matching men's band for Justin.

He had looked at it with pure disdain, tossed it into a drawer, and never touched it again.

"Dr. Vance? Is something wrong?" Brandon asked, watching him uneasily.

Justin gave a slight shake of his head. When he spoke again, there was a faint trace of pity in his voice.

"She was so young. Her husband must be devastated." With that, he drew the blade down my chest, parting the flesh.

Brandon stood beside him, handing off surgical instruments. "Our initial scan showed she was about two months pregnant, too."

"It really is tragic."

Justin didn't reply this time, but the atmosphere in the operating room turned noticeably heavier.

I hovered nearby, watching his focused profile. My mind drifted back to last winter, when I came down with a vicious case of pneumonia. I had been paralyzed with weakness, unable to even crawl out of bed. Justin had been home that night, but he was entirely absorbed in his research.

I had burned with a dangerously high fever for an entire night. When an ambulance finally brought me to the ER, the attending physician told me I was hours away from organ failure.

Yet the first thing Justin did when I woke up was lash out at me.

"You're a grown woman! If you were that sick, couldn't you open your mouth and say something?!" He had glared down at me, his eyes dark with irritation. "Or were you just pulling another pathetic stunt to get my attention?"

Back then, I didn't even have the strength to defend myself. He was the one who had explicitly ordered me never to inconvenience him.

I had followed his rules so obediently. Why was he still angry?

He could feel pity for a complete stranger on a cold operating table... so why had he treated the woman who shared his bed for five years with nothing but cruel contempt?