After His Mistress Tried to Kill Me

The hospital room smelled like bleach and old coffee. Outside, the New York rain tapped a steady rhythm against the thick glass. Jasmine sat in the plastic chair beside my bed. She was scrolling on her phone. Suddenly, her thumb stopped. Her eyes widened.

"He got it," she whispered.

I turned my head. The movement pulled at my bruised ribs. "Sean?"

Jasmine nodded. She stood up and paced to the foot of my bed. "He just sent the files from London. He found the private clinic where Thalia was treated during her marriage to Riley." She looked at the screen. Her lips curled into a sharp, bitter smile. "Sean said, 'She built the whole thing on paper.'"

I pushed myself up a little against the stiff pillows. "What does that mean?"

"It means she's a liar, Evie," Jasmine said flatly. "Her kidney function is impaired, yes. But it's nowhere near transplant-critical. There is no urgent need for a donor. She faked the timeline to trap Colby."

I let out a slow, shaky breath.

"And there's more," Jasmine continued. Her dark eyes flashed with triumph. "Sean got an email from a former colleague of hers. Thalia didn't leave Riley because he was abusive. She left because she got caught sleeping with a coworker. Riley caught her. That's why they divorced."

I stared at the white blanket over my legs. Thalia had played all of us. She used a fake illness to steal my kidney. She used a fake sob story to steal Colby's pity. And Colby swallowed it whole.

Two hours later, the door creaked open. Colby walked in. He wore a fresh charcoal suit and a crisp white shirt. He looked like he just stepped out of a magazine. He didn't look at my bandages. He just looked at my face. He had his boardroom mask on.

"Evie," he said smoothly. He stood at the end of my bed, gripping the plastic footboard. "We need to finish our conversation."

I didn't blink. "There is nothing to finish."

He sighed heavily. It was the sound he made when a server got his order wrong. "You are being emotional. I get it. You were hurt in the accident. But you need to put your feelings aside right now. Thalia's condition is deteriorating rapidly. This is a medical decision. It could save a life. Stop being selfish."

*Selfish.* The word hung in the sterile air. I gave him a piece of my own body, and he was calling me selfish.

He spoke to me like I was a stubborn employee. He wanted to manage my feelings. He wanted to solve a problem. And I was just the spare part he needed to fix it.

I looked at his hands gripping the plastic. His knuckles were slightly pale. Then I looked at his face. The man I loved for eight years was a complete stranger.

"Colby," I said quietly. My voice was completely steady. "When you were dying in that hospital bed eight years ago, did you ever once ask who actually saved you?"

He froze. The annoyance vanished from his face. "What?"

"Did you ever look at the medical records?" I asked. "Did you ever ask the surgeon? Or did you just accept the story that was most convenient?"

Colby stared at me. A tiny frown line appeared between his eyebrows. His jaw went slack. "Evie, what are you talking about? Eileen gave me her kidney. We all know that."

"Do we?" I asked softly.

The room went dead silent. The heart monitor beeped in the background. Colby didn't move. He looked deeply unsettled, like a man who just stepped on a stair that wasn't there. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He let go of the footboard. He took a step back, his eyes searching my face for a joke. But I wasn't smiling. He turned and walked out the door. He didn't look back.

The next evening, Jasmine came back to the hospital. She looked furious. She threw her wet coat on the chair and practically shoved her phone into my hands.

"Look at this," she snapped.

I took the heavy phone. The screen was bright. It was a photo posted by a mutual friend. It was from a charity gala last night. The room was lit with crystal chandeliers. Thalia stood in the center. She wore a stunning floor-length silk gown. There was no wheelchair. There was no IV drip. She was clinging tightly to Colby's arm.

I swiped to the next slide. It was a video. Thalia was surrounded by mutual friends of ours. She was crying. Real, wet tears streamed down her perfectly made-up face.

"I'm just so frightened," Thalia whispered in the video. She buried her face in Colby's shoulder. "Evangeline hates me. She pushed me out of my chair at the hospital. I fear for my safety every day."

Colby wrapped his arm around her. He pulled her close and glared at the camera. He was protecting her from me.

I handed the phone back to Jasmine. I didn't cry. My chest didn't ache. The bubbles of love I used to feel for him were completely dead. The cold hollow inside me just turned to solid ice.

"She wore a gown," Jasmine hissed. "A day after throwing herself on the floor in here. And he just stood there and let her play the victim."

I looked at the dark purple bruising on my arm. I thought about the eight years I spent waiting for him. I thought about the surgical scar on my side.

I went completely still.

"Jas," I said quietly.

"Yeah?" she asked, her voice tight with rage.

"Hand me my laptop."