Kicking Toxic People Out of My Life

In the old house where I hadn't lived for years, I finally unearthed the organ donation consent form. Ignoring the pain in my arm, I rushed to the hospital where Queenie was admitted.

…

I pushed open the door to the ward and was greeted by laughter.

My granddaughter, Poppy Larson, lay on the bed, giggling. "Ms. Sanders, you're so pretty! I hope I can look like you when I'm your age!" she exclaimed.

"You're nothing like my grandma. Her face is so wrinkly!"

Laughter erupted in the room at her comment, while I stood awkwardly in the doorway, unsure whether to enter or leave.

My daughter-in-law, Regina Torres, noticed me first. Her expression shifted slightly before she said, "Mom, don't take it personally. Kids just blurt things out without thinking."

I had barely stepped inside when Xavier's icy voice sliced through the air. "What are you doing here?"

Takeout boxes cluttered the nearby table, a silent testament to their meal choice.

Tobias scoffed. "Mom, you really think too much of yourself. In today's world, we won't starve just because you don't cook."

I swallowed hard and replied, "I'm not here to talk about that."

Then, I held out the organ donation consent form. "I came to tell you that I only have one kidney left. If I give it up, I'll—"

But before I could finish, Xavier lunged forward, ripping the form in half. With a darkened expression, he snapped, "Whatever you have to say, take it outside! Don't disturb Queenie's rest! She's already in poor health!"

He yanked my arm, pulling me toward the door. A sharp pain coursed through me, and I cried out in agony.

Xavier released his grip, his brows furrowing even deeper. "Drop the act!"

With one arm hanging limp, I used the other to snatch the torn pieces of the consent form from his hand.

"Xavier Larson! Why would I lie to you?" I shouted, feeling utterly aggrieved.

"This is the organ donation consent form I signed myself! You were the one who made me sign it back then, saying it was for medical research. Have you forgotten? Just look at the stamp—it's from over ten years ago!"

I clenched the paper so tightly that it crumpled in my fist. "If I hadn't donated my kidney, do you really think you'd have gotten that promotion?"

The moment those words left my lips, Xavier's expression changed drastically. A tense silence hung in the air before his brow twitched, and he let out a derisive laugh.

"Harper Jenkins, have you lost your mind? Do you have no shame? How could you claim someone else's hard work as your own? Do you think I'd be grateful just because you said all this?

"You have no clue, do you? I got promoted because of my contributions to medical research!"

"It was because I—" I tried to get a word in.

However, he cut me off sharply, "How do you think I got promoted? I sacrificed everything so Queenie could undergo the cryogenic freezing experiment!

"She was one of the first patients in this groundbreaking study, which is crucial to advancing medical research in our country. The hospital gave me my title because of her!

"If it weren't for her, I'd still be struggling to achieve anything! And you have the nerve to stand here and claim my promotion was because you donated a kidney?"

Xavier's eyes were cold, full of contempt as he looked me over. "I never imagined you'd be so selfish. You can't even bring yourself to donate a kidney, yet you think you've contributed to medical research? It's absurd!"

In one swift motion, he snatched the torn consent form from my hands and shredded it into tiny pieces. His face betrayed no emotion as he scattered the scraps to the floor.

The bits fluttered down around me like snowflakes while I stood frozen in disbelief. My arm hung limp as I desperately tried to gather the scraps. This was the only evidence I had to prove my case!

Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I collapsed to the floor, but Xavier just sneered.

"What's this? Are you about to start playing the victim?" he spat.

I sat there, crushed, staring up at him helplessly.

Right then, Xavier's phone rang. It was the hospital.

A nurse's voice came through the line, "Are you Harper Jenkins' family? The compatibility results are in."

"What is it? It's good news, right?" Xavier asked, his excitement barely contained. "She had a test over ten years ago, and everything was fine then—"

But the nurse impatiently interrupted him. "What's wrong with you people? Don't you know she only has one kidney? We can't operate under those conditions!"

Xavier froze in disbelief. "What?"