His Atonement Gift of Lies

My fiancé, New York real estate tycoon Ethan Thorne, was diagnosed with acute leukemia.

He needed a bone marrow transplant.

And I was his only perfect match.

I donated my marrow without a second thought.

The post-operative pain and weakness left me a wreck.

Late one night, I dragged myself out of bed to get him a glass of water.

His unlocked laptop glowed faintly on the desk.

A folder, titled "Revenge Plan."

I clicked on it.

The journal inside detailed his five-year-long plot for revenge.

Everything was for his ex-girlfriend, Scarlett, who was set to return from Europe.

Donating my marrow was the final step.

Ethan’s journal read: "Scarlett comes back next week. By then, I’ll finally be free of her."

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1

Trembling, I scrolled through the journal.

It detailed every one of the ninety-three cruel things he’d done to me.

He intended to give this journal to Scarlett as an "atonement gift."

The shock, combined with my post-operative weakness, sent my world spinning before my vision went black.

My knees buckled, and I crumpled to the floor.

The thud startled Ethan in the next room.

He rushed over, his face a mask of perfectly feigned panic and concern.

"Ava, what’s wrong? You've just had surgery!"

Before the nurses arrived, he gently helped me up, his voice a concerned rasp.

"You look like you're in a lot of pain. Take your medicine first."

He handed me a pill and water, his fingers gently brushing my lips, his eyes brimming with perfectly feigned heartache.

I held his gaze and swallowed the pill.

It was nothing but ordinary vitamins.

He had swapped out my powerful painkillers.

Minutes later, agony ripped through me again, my body spasming and arching off the bed.

The nurses rushed in and helped me back into bed.

The pain was too intense for sleep, so I just curled up under the covers, shaking.

Through the thin hospital door, I could clearly hear Ethan chuckling on the phone.

"Yeah, I switched her painkillers. She must be in so much pain she wishes she was dead."

On the other end of the line, I heard his friends cheering.

"Ethan, you're savage! This is way more satisfying than just killing her!"

I clutched the sheets, my knuckles turning bone-white.

I picked up my phone and dialed the number I hadn't called in years.

"Mom," my voice trembled, "I’ve had enough. I want to come home."