Goodbye, Mr. Ex: I've Remarried Mr. Right

Even without my heart, my chest still ached so much that I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Wendy?"

Heinry appeared out of nowhere. The moment he saw me vomiting blood again, he rushed to my side, carried me to the bed and wiped the blood from my mouth with an expression of deep distress.

"I'm sorry, Wendy. I didn’t take good care of you. Don’t worry, I’ve arranged for the best artificial heart and it’ll be replaced in a few days,"

The red rings under his eyes seemed to shimmer with guilt, his reaction so familiar. It was exactly the same as every other time he had seen me in pain over the years.

Back then, I thought he truly felt sorry for me. I had always pretended to be strong, reassuring him that everything was fine.

Looking back now, I could not believe how foolish I was.

"Heinry, I’ve been in so much pain all these years. Can I stop using the artificial heart?"

Hadn’t you already prepared several backup heart sources for Yvonne? Couldn’t you… give me my heart back?

He froze for only a moment before regaining his composure. Smiling, he reached out to stroke my head and said, "Wendy, don’t say such silly things. There’s no suitable heart for you. Without the artificial heart, you wouldn’t survive. Do you want me to stand by and watch you die? If that’s the case, you might as well kill me first."

No?

But the heart beating in Yvonne’s chest was mine.

A chilling numbness spread through my body as I forced a smile. "You're right. I was being silly."

That night, I filled the bathtub for him, adding an entire bottle of sleep-aid essential oil under the guise of helping him relax.

When he returned, he soon fell into a deep sleep.

Perhaps in his dreams, he saw the person he longed for most because he murmured her name.

"Yvonne… I’ll protect you, no matter the cost… even if it kills me."

I stood there, staring at the man I had loved for seven long years. At last, the tears I had been holding back began to fall.

I called my best friend, a doctor who had just returned to this country after years of working in Africa.

"I want to ask you to perform a heart surgery on me."

"Yes, I’m sure. See you in three days."

What was so frightening about death?

After all, death was the ultimate release from pain.

After hanging up the phone, I quietly took Heinry’s phone and went into the study.

Sure enough, today was Yvonne’s birthday.

I had never known that Heinry had a hidden Instagram account until now.

He probably forgot to switch to his main account back. His avatar was a minimalist design with one stylized word. Aiyan.

So straightforward. So shameless.

Curious, I tapped into his feed. It was a shrine to Yvonne and every post was a declaration of his obsession and flamboyant devotion.

[The first day I arrived at the Spencer Family house, I met Yvonne Spencer and suddenly understood what a heartbeat feels like.]

[Yvonne got married and I went mad with jealousy. I wanted to keep her with me, hidden inside my body, mine alone.]

[I kept thinking about Yvonne today. I know Wendy’s body is fragile, but I couldn’t help myself. I missed her so much that I kept calling her name in my heart, over and over, as though wishing I could change the person under me into her…]

In addition, he gave Yvonne Spencer various luxury jewelry and designer handbags.

He had even purchased a heart-shaped private island abroad in her name.

And all these years, the only thing Heinry had ever given me was this artificial heart that brought me a constant source of suffering and endless torment.

While I grieved the loss of my mother and endured the agony of coughing up blood, Yvonne was lounging on the soft sands of her island paradise, basking in the sun.

My hands trembled as I held the phone. Rage and nausea twisted through me. I stumbled back and retched.

As I leaned against the bookshelf for support, my hand brushed against something and a book fell to the floor.

But when I picked it up, I realized it it was actually a box, disguised with a book’s cover.

Inside, I found several certificates for “voluntary heart donation” and stacks of remittance receipts.