The wife he left to die

CHAPTER 3

LENA POV

The next morning, I woke up with blood on my pillow.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

Then I touched my nose.

My fingertips came away red.

I stared at the blood in silence.

Three years ago, the sight would have terrified me.

Now it only makes me tired.

The doctor had warned me this would happen.

My heart was getting weaker and my body was running out of time.

I cleaned myself up and headed back to my apartment.

The second I stepped inside, I noticed Ethan sitting at the dining table.

Relief flashed through me before I could stop it.

For one foolish moment, I thought he was here because of me.

Maybe he had finally realized what he'd done.

Maybe he wanted to talk.

Maybe—

"I've been calling you."

His voice shattered the illusion immediately.

I dropped my purse onto the counter. "My phone was on silent."

Ethan stood.

His eyes scanned my face. "You look pale."

I almost laughed. That was what he noticed?

Not the fact that he had given away my chance to live.

Not the fact that I had spent the night crying.

Just that I looked pale.

"I'm fine."

The familiar lie rolled off my tongue.

His jaw tightened. "You keep saying that."

I said nothing.

Instead, I asked,

"Why are you here?"

A strange expression crossed his face.

"I wanted to check on you."

The answer sounded rehearsed, as if he'd forced himself to say it.

Before I could respond, his phone vibrated.

I didn't need to guess who it was.

Vanessa.

Again.

Ethan glanced at the screen as his expression changed instantly into worry.

All the emotions he never seemed to have for me anymore.

He answered immediately. "Vanessa?"

I looked away.

I couldn't bear to watch.

Through the silence, I heard her weak voice.

"Ethan... I'm sorry. I shouldn't be calling at this time."

He was already grabbing his car keys. "What's wrong?"

I felt sick.

A few seconds later, Ethan ended the call.

"Vanessa fainted during physical therapy."

Of course she did.

He was already heading toward the door. "I should go."

I stared at him.

The irony was almost laughable.

The man whose wife was dying, was rushing to another woman.

"Ethan."

He paused.

For a second, I almost told him.

I almost said: I'm dying.

The donor heart was mine.

You gave away my future.

Please choose me just once.

But then I remembered the conference room.

My wife can wait.

The words killed whatever hope remained.

"Never mind."

Something flickered in his eyes.

Disappointment, confusion.

Maybe even guilt.

Then it disappeared.

"I'll come back later." He said as the door closed behind him and the apartment was thrown into silence.

I stood there for several seconds before my knees suddenly buckled.

An unbearable pain exploded through my chest.

A gasp escaped me as I reached for the wall but missed and instead hit the floor.

The room spun.

I struggled for breath.

My vision blurred.

The next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder.

"Lena!"

Daniel's voice.

Panic filled his face.

I blinked, confused.

"What happened?"

"I came to check on you." His voice trembled.

"You weren't answering your phone."

I looked down to see my phone lay shattered beside me.

I must have dropped it when I collapsed.

Daniel helped me to sit up.

The fear in his eyes told me everything.

This wasn't normal anymore.

My condition was getting worse.

That afternoon, he drove me to the hospital.

Dr. Harrison reviewed my scans in grim silence.

Finally, he removed his glasses. "Lena."

My stomach tightened. "What is it?"

The doctor hesitated.

Then said quietly, "The progression is accelerating."

I already knew, I could feel it. "How much time?"

The room went silent.

Daniel immediately turned toward the doctor. "Don't."

But I needed to know.

I looked directly at him. "Tell me."

Dr. Harrison sighed heavily. "If you don't receive a transplant soon..." He paused.

Then delivered the words that shattered whatever remained of my future.

"You may have less than three months."

Three months.

Not six.

Three.

Daniel cursed under his breath.

The room blurred around me.

Three months.

Ninety days.

That was all I had left.

When we finally left the office, I felt numb.

Completely numb.

Daniel wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "We'll find another option."

I didn't answer.

Because we both knew the truth.

There wasn't another option.

There had been one.

A donor heart.

The donor heart Ethan gave away.

As we walked through the hospital lobby, I froze.

A burst of laughter echoed through the building.

I knew that laugh.

Vanessa.

My gaze lifted automatically, and there they were.

Ethan and Vanessa.

Standing near the hospital café.

She was smiling and laughing healthy enough to stroll through the hospital while she leaned comfortably against my husband.

Then I noticed the shopping bags in Ethan's hands.

Three of them.

Vanessa held up a silver evening dress. "What about this one?"

Ethan smiled. "It's perfect."

She laughed, slightly pale.

The tenderness in his voice hit harder than any diagnosis.

I stared at them from across the lobby.

Neither of them noticed me.

Neither of them saw the woman whose life they were stealing.

Then Vanessa reached up and kissed Ethan's cheek.

My heart stopped.

Ethan didn't pull away, instead he…smiled.

The world tilted beneath my feet.

Daniel immediately grabbed my arm. "Lena."

I couldn't breathe or think.

I could only stare.

Three months.

I had three months left.

And my husband was helping another woman choose dresses while my future slipped away.

For the first time, a terrifying thought entered my mind.

Maybe Ethan wasn't choosing Vanessa because he loved her.

Maybe he was choosing her because he'd already accepted that I was going to die.

And if that was true...

Then there was nothing left to save.