Drowning in His Heartbeat

Normally, Jennifer wouldn’t have argued with him. But by now, after so many times, she felt numb.

Tonight, however, it was as if someone had poured fuel onto the fire in her chest—and trying to smother it was useless. She fired back:

“I’ve never heard of a fiancé standing up his fiancée sixty-six times for a sister who isn’t even related by blood. You two are quite the pair… I’m almost moved.”

“Why don’t you just get together now and save everyone the excuses?”

Brandon’s handsome brow furrowed, impatience shadowing his features.

“You’re the one with a dirty mind, seeing filth everywhere! Fine—I’ll go with you to city hall tomorrow. I don’t want to fight tonight…”

With that, the bathroom door slammed shut. As always, the room was left wrapped in a suffocating chill.

Her phone buzzed. Jennifer didn’t need to look to know it was Stephanie.

When she opened it, the video was nothing short of obscene.

There was Brandon, pressed against Stephanie’s full curves, licking with fervor. The sound of his ragged breathing seemed to bleed through the screen.

Every movement pulled a feline moan from the woman.

Stephanie’s message was explicit:

“See? A cold, ascetic monk like my brother… only I can make him burn. With you, I doubt he could even get it up.”

Jennifer stared at the screen, as if trying to sear the image into memory.

After a long moment, she typed a reply: “You’ve earned it. Consider that a tip for your performance.”

She immediately transferred a hundred yuan, locked her phone, and sat by the window, lost in thought.

Everyone believed she was Brandon’s ultimate doormat—the kind who’d keep licking his boots until she died.

No one knew her real reason for being here: the donor’s heart beating inside his chest.

Brandon had been drawn to Buddhism since childhood. As an adult, he took up prayer beads and practiced at home. He kept away from women, devoted solely to his spiritual path.

Then Jennifer stuck to him like glue, impossible to shake off. What began as disgust slowly turned into habit.

Under pressure from his mother, Brandon finally gave in and agreed to be with her.

But Stephanie’s appearance turned all her efforts into a joke. Thankfully, she never really wanted to marry him. All she wanted was that heart.

At the thought, she lowered her head, forcing back the tears pooling in her eyes.

As she turned, she came face-to-face with Brandon—his expression tightly controlled, anger simmering just beneath.

“What did you just say to Stephanie? Why is she crying nonstop? Explain yourself!” He grabbed her wrist, his grip like a vise, refusing to let go until he had an answer.

Her wrist felt ready to shatter. Jennifer winced, looking up at him, a sharp ache piercing her chest.

Brandon was usually cold and distant, like a statue of Buddha. Only with Stephanie did he show anything human—any trace of passion.

Standing there between them, she felt like a clown trying to break up a devoted couple. Bearing the pain, a bitter, helpless smile escaped her lips.

“What’s so funny? Is my question a joke to you?”