My Husband Burned Me Alive After I Donated My Kidney

“Sweetheart, are you just saying this because you’re upset?” Monica asked, her voice gentle but firm. “Your parents entrusted you to us before they passed. That boy may be reckless, but he has a responsibility to take care of you for the rest of his life. How could you two possibly separate?”

Yeah… if it weren’t for my parents’ dying wish, I don’t think I would’ve ever clung to Justin the way I did.

Our families had been close for generations. But when my parents’ business grew too successful, it put a target on their backs. One day, Justin and I—both just kids—were kidnapped.

My parents didn’t hesitate. They stormed the kidnappers’ hideout to get us out, sacrificing their own lives so we could escape.

I would never forget that last moment. My parents, bleeding and desperate, grabbed my hand and placed it in Justin’s. “Take her. Keep her safe.”

And he did. Barefoot and terrified, Justin carried me on his back, step by step, until we were finally free.

From that moment on, he was my lifeline. The only person I could count on. And as I got older, he became more than that. My first love. My whole world.

Everyone knew I couldn’t live without Justin. And now, looking at Francis, Monica and even Justin himself, I could tell they still believed that.

What they didn’t know, what none of them could have predicted was that I had already booked a plane ticket.

In three days, I would be gone.

Francis and Monica were still trying to talk me out of it, too focused on me to even acknowledge Justin’s seething glare or Leah’s pitiful sobs.

I knew I wouldn’t convince them to agree to a divorce right away, so I decided to shift the conversation. My gaze landed on Leah, still kneeling on the floor, her hands trembling.

"If it weren’t for Miss Sloane’s generous kidney donation," I said smoothly, "Justin wouldn’t have been saved so quickly. So why don’t you let her go home with him?"

Leah’s head snapped up, her wide eyes locking onto mine.

She was stunned. Completely thrown off. Like she couldn’t understand how anyone could be this stupid. I had already handed her all the credit for the kidney donation and now I was handing her Justin, too?

Justin, on the other hand, didn’t waste a second. Before anyone could object, he grabbed Leah by the arm and yanked her to her feet.

"Let’s go," he said, voice clipped, like he was afraid I’d suddenly change my mind.

Then, without even glancing back, he dragged her out of the hospital, his body still weak, but his determination unwavering.

Francis and Monica didn’t have much of a choice. Between Justin’s stubborn insistence and my own, they finally gave in.

But they didn’t linger. After making sure we were in the car, they sent us home and left without another word.

The second we stepped inside, Justin grabbed my wrist and yanked me to the side.

"Lara," he said in a low, warning tone, his grip tightening. "I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but whether this is self-torture or some pathetic attempt to win me over, forget it. You’ll never make me love you."

His fingers dug into my side, right over the fresh surgical wound where they had taken my kidney. A sharp, searing pain shot through me, but I refused to flinch.

"And listen carefully," he continued, his voice hard. "Leah is living here now. She’s still recovering, so you’d better not try anything. If you so much as think about hurting her—"

I wrenched my arm out of his grip before he could finish, my voice calm but firm.

"Relax, Justin," I said. "I’ll convince your parents soon enough. We’ll get divorced and I won’t waste another second hoping for your love."

For once, he had nothing to say. I turned without hesitation and walked away, heading straight upstairs.

Even as I climbed the steps, I could feel his eyes on me, but I knew one thing, he wouldn’t be coming upstairs tonight.

Eventually, after listening to the muffled sounds of movement downstairs, I drifted into a fitful sleep. Then, sometime in the middle of the night, I woke up shivering.

A fever had taken hold, my entire body aching and drenched in sweat. The surgical wound on my waist throbbed unbearably, the pain flaring so intensely it made me lightheaded.

With shaking hands, I grabbed my phone and called Justin.

Once. Twice. Three times.

No answer.

By the fourth try, I gave up. Swallowing back the nausea, I forced myself out of bed, steadying myself against the wall as I made my way downstairs to find some medicine.

But the moment I flicked on the living room light, a sharp scream rang out. "Ah!"

I turned my head and there she was. Leah.

Her clothes were half undone, her body practically draped over Justin’s, her wide eyes locked onto mine like she had just been caught red-handed.

Justin’s head jerked up. He quickly pushed her away, rubbing the back of his neck.