The Kidney He Gave Away

The hospital suddenly called to inform me that the kidney I had been scheduled to receive had been transferred—by my husband—to his first love.

I confronted him. He replied casually, "It's just one kidney. Are you really in such a hurry? Daphne needs it more, so let her have it first. You're not going to die anytime soon anyway!"

I stood there holding the medical report proving he had uremia, and in that moment, my three-year marriage felt like a joke.

Fine. He was right. I wasn't the one who was sick—so what was I rushing for?

I gazed at the stream of traffic below the building, took a deep breath, and dialed my father's number.

"Dad, about the project you mentioned before—I've decided to join."

On the other end of the line, my father immediately grew excited.

"That's wonderful! You've finally come to your senses. No matter what, your own future comes first! I'll make the arrangements right away. When do you want to leave?"

"The sooner, the better." My eyes drifted to my slightly rounded belly, and a sharp pain pierced my chest. "Also, Dad, help me contact a lawyer. I want to divorce Geston."

"Divorce? Did that brat Geston bully you? I'll skin him alive!"

His concern made my eyes burn, and for a moment I didn't know where to begin.

When I didn't answer, he fell silent for a beat. "Alright. I understand. Don't worry, I'll get you the best lawyer. I'll make sure you get everything you deserve."

"Okay. Thank you, Dad."

After hanging up, I felt as if the last shackle around my heart had finally fallen away.

The Mason family might not rival the Hughes family's influence locally, but overseas, our foundation was something the Hughes family could never compare to.

All these years, for Geston Hughes's sake, I had hidden my edge and willingly become a docile shadow behind him. Looking back now, it was nothing but a joke.

That night, Geston came home very late.

He carried a mixed scent of hospital disinfectant and women's perfume—sharp, cloying, and unmistakably intimate.

When he saw me sitting quietly on the sofa, he seemed surprised.

"I thought you'd be making a scene again." He tugged at his tie, his tone laced with a kind of condescending indulgence. "It's good that you've come around. Daphne's surgery was a success. Once she recovers, I'll find you an even better kidney source."

I said nothing and simply looked at him.

My gaze made him uncomfortable. He frowned. "Why are you staring at me like that? You've been sensible today. Let's put this behind us."

I nodded and replied obediently, "Alright."

He clearly hadn't expected me to be so agreeable. He froze for a moment, then a satisfied look spread across his face.

He thought I had given in. He thought I was still the same Violet Mason, the woman who would retreat without limit for his sake.

He didn't know that my heart had already died during that phone call.

And he knew nothing of the child growing inside me—his child, just eight weeks old.

I had once planned to tell him the good news when he came home.

Now, it seemed unnecessary.

This child should not come into the world only to have such a cold and selfish father.