When I Die, I'll Donate My Heart to My Wife's First Love

Ariana's beloved, Marvin Hadid, was in the late stages of heart failure.

His only wish in life was to marry Ariana.

With tears in her eyes, she agreed and decided to go through a fake divorce with me.

After the divorce, I was deemed a failure by the System and faced imminent erasure.

The System offered to grant me one wish.

I smiled and said, "Then donate my heart to Marvin. I want Ariana to feel my heartbeat every time she's close to him."

In the end, Ariana went mad.

She cried as she tried to shove my heart back into my body, begging me to wake up.

1

The delivery guy called, saying Ariana had refused the cake and roses I sent her.

I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up.

All I received was a brief message: [Working late at the hospital. Won't be home tonight.]

It was pouring rain, and Ariana had left without an umbrella.

I grabbed the roses and cake, determined to find her at the hospital.

After all, it was a special day.

When I arrived, the nurse informed me that Ariana had left early.

Confused, I dialed her number, only to be met with her annoyance.

"Arthur, can you stop sending me useless stuff? If you really want to make me happy, just go get the divorce papers signed."

I was taken aback.

For a while now, Ariana had been trying to get me to divorce her.

It was all because of her childhood friend, Marvin, who was dying from heart failure.

Before he passed, Marvin wanted to marry Ariana, and she had agreed.

She insisted it was a fake divorce, promising to come back for the marriage license once Marvin was gone.

But I had refused.

Ariana had been sulking ever since.

I took a deep breath, pushing down the bitterness rising in me.

"Ariana, do you remember what day it is today?"

I thought she might feel something on this special day, but her response was unexpected.

"Marvin, you... oh, you're pulling my hair!"

"Where? Let me see..."

Ariana's playful reprimand was mixed with a man's voice—Marvin's.

My blood boiled.

"Ariana, are you with Marvin right now?"

I ground my teeth, feeling the veins in my hand pulse dangerously.

She sounded irritated. "Why are you yelling?

"Isn't Marvin in late-stage heart failure? I moved him to a VIP room at our hospital to make him more comfortable, and I thought I might as well take care of him."

I thought, "Take care of him? So you two are still cozy together at this hour?

That hair-pulling intimacy must mean you're sharing a bed, right?

And today is our sixth wedding anniversary!"

I couldn't hold back and shouted into the phone, "Ariana, you're still my wife, and yet you're in another man's bed! Don't you see the problem here?"

Ariana snapped back, "Marvin and I grew up together. We've been through everything since childhood. So what if we're sharing a bed?"

Then I heard movement on the other end.

It sounded like she was shifting to another location.

Lowering her voice, she continued, "Besides, didn't I tell you? It's a fake divorce. Once I handle the wedding with Marvin, we'll get our marriage license back. We're not even getting a real divorce, so why are you making a fuss?"

After hearing her words, I felt a wave of absurdity wash over me.

About a month ago, when Ariana first told me Marvin had been diagnosed with terminal heart failure, I had felt genuinely sorry for them both.

But then she changed her tone.

"Arthur, Marvin has always wanted to marry me. Can we get the divorce first, and once this is all over, we can remarry? Let's just do it to fulfill Marvin's last wish."

I stared at Ariana in shock. "Ariana, do you think marriage is a joke? If we divorce, I might as well disappear from this world."

Ariana's anger flared up. "Always threatening to disappear—are you trying to blackmail me? Arthur Stewart, can you please get a grip? Marvin's dying, and you can't muster a bit of sympathy?"

Ariana rarely uses my full name, but this time, she was genuinely furious.

Trying to keep my own emotions in check, I asked her, "If you're only having a wedding with Marvin and not actually getting a marriage license, then why are we going through a fake divorce?"

Ariana sighed, her tone softening slightly, "I don't want Marvin to be labeled as a third wheel in our marriage."

Then, her voice hardened again. "Today is Sunday. By Monday, we need to finalize the divorce. Marvin doesn't have much time left."

Before I could say another word, Ariana hung up the phone.