Her Kidney was the Payment for His Broken Heart

The next afternoon, the door to the hospital room swung open.

Willard walked in, and beside him clung a woman.

Kendra looked delicate and fragile yet almost ethereal. One of her hands was looped gently through Willard’s arm, her entire body leaning against his as if she couldn’t stand without him.

“Daisie,” Kendra spoke, her voice light and sweet. “How are you feeling?”

Daisie turned her head away, refusing to look at her.

Willard’s brows furrowed the moment he saw her reaction. His tone came out sharp with irritation.

“Hey. What kind of attitude is that? Kendra came here out of kindness to see you.”

Kendra quickly tugged on his sleeve, her voice gentle and coaxing.

“Willard, don’t be upset with her. She’s about to make such a big sacrifice for me. It’s only natural for her to feel resentful. It’s my fault. If my body weren’t so weak…”

Her voice trembled. Her eyes reddened, filling with unshed tears.

Willard’s expression immediately softened. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his voice low and dripping with affection.

“Don’t say that. None of this is your fault. It’s her debt. She owes you, and she owes me.”

When he turned back to Daisie, his warmth vanished, replaced by cold disdain.

“You should understand something, Daisie. Donating your kidney to Kendra is a blessing for you.”

Daisie didn’t want to hear another word. She fixed her eyes on him and asked through gritted teeth.

“My dad—how’s he? The surgery fee you promised me—did you pay it? Did he have the operation?”

Willard froze for a moment, caught off guard. Before he could answer, Kendra spoke first.

“I heard about Uncle Joe’s condition,” she said apologetically. “It’s truly heartbreaking. Coincidentally, I know a brilliant neurosurgeon from abroad—Dr. Wilson. He’s one of the best in the world. I can invite him here to perform the surgery, and I’ll cover all the expenses myself. Consider it… a small token of goodwill and compensation from me.”

Willard looked at her, admiration glowing in his eyes.

“See? Kendra is always thinking of others.”

Then, his gaze snapped back to Daisie, his tone dripping with contempt.

“She’s far better than your useless father. It’s settled, then. Dr. Wilson will handle the surgery.”

“No! I don’t want her help!” Daisie shouted before she could stop herself.

There was no way Kendra was doing this out of kindness; Daisie didn’t believe that for a second.

“My dad’s surgery doesn’t need her charity! Willard, you promised me. Give me the money. We’ll find our own doctor here!”

Kendra’s face crumpled with hurt, her tears spilling instantly.

“Daisie… are you still angry at me? I really just wanted to help. I mean no harm, I swear…”

The sight made Willard’s temper flare. He jabbed a finger at Daisie’s face, his voice roaring like thunder.

“Daisie! Don’t be so ungrateful! Kendra’s showing you nothing but kindness, and you throw it back in her face? You should be thankful that any doctor is even willing to touch someone like your father! You don’t get to choose, you hear me?! I’ve made my decision—Dr. Wilson will do the surgery!”

“Willard! That’s my dad we’re talking about!” Daisie exclaimed.

She struggled to sit up, but the nurse beside her pinned her back down.

Willard looked down at her, his eyes cold and pitiless.

“Whether your dad lives or dies depends on how you behave.”

With that, he turned away, holding Kendra close as he whispered comfort into her ear. Together, they walked out of the room.

Watching their silhouettes disappear down the hallway, Daisie felt her body trembling and the air around her freeze.

Before she knew it, the day of the surgery came.

They wheeled her into the operating room. As the anesthesia coursed through her veins, her consciousness began to fade.

The last thing she thought of was the tiny life she carried inside her—the one no one else knew about.

‘I’m sorry, baby… Mommy can’t protect you…’ she secretly cried.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before she woke again—only that the pain was unbearable.

The anesthesia had worn off, and a searing ache tore through her right side.

She lay weak and pale on the bed, too drained even to lift a hand.

Everything was silent except for the steady, mechanical ticking of the monitors.

Her heart felt as empty as the room around her.

Instinctively, she touched her lower abdomen, and to her astonishment, the baby was still there. For a moment, that made her heart swell with relief.

Her lips parted weakly as she turned to the nurse beside her.

“Excuse me… my dad… How’s my dad?”

The nurse didn’t look up from her clipboard. Her tone was flat and indifferent.

“Your dad? His surgery failed yesterday. He didn’t make it. He’s dead.”