I become paralyzed after trying to save my wife. Seven years later, she holds a knife to our young son's neck and forces me to donate my kidney to her male best friend.

She says I'm worthless now that I'm already paralyzed—what does it matter whether or not I have my kidneys?

What she doesn't know is that I already lost a kidney many years ago when trying to save her. Now, she's taking away the only one I have left!

When Queenie Jorian, the mother of my son, Leroy Pattinson, held a kitchen knife to the little boy's neck, my mind went blank. I never imagined Francis Show being more important than even our son to her.

"Niels Pattinson, are you going to donate your kidney or not? If you don't, I'll finish off your son with this knife, then take myself out after," Queenie threatened, holding Leroy as she stood at my bedside, her eyes full of cold determination.

"Dad, I'm scared. Mom, please don't hold the knife. I'm scared…

"Dad, save me!"

Our five-year-old son was sobbing uncontrollably.

"Queenie, do you have any conscience at all? I'm paralyzed because I was hit by a car while trying to save you. And now, you want me to give my kidney to that guy friend of yours? Can't he just wait for some other donor with a compatible kidney?"

Queenie's expression was icy. The knife she pressed against Leroy's neck left a faint red line.

"He can't. Francis is in the late stages of kidney failure. What am I supposed to do if he dies? And Niels, stop trying to guilt-trip me. I didn't ask you to save me back then.

"I've also taken care of you for six years without complaint. Why can't you be a little kinder and less selfish? It's just one kidney. You're paralyzed anyway—what use is it to you? I don't care. If Francis dies, I can't go on living either."

It was as if Francis was her husband. I looked at Queenie's face and suddenly remembered how she had looked when we had first gotten married. Her face had glowed with happiness while she had said marrying me made her the happiest woman in the world.

Queenie had gotten pregnant during the first year of our marriage. We had been out walking on the street when a drunk driver in a BMW had sped toward us.

I had pushed her out of the way to protect her, taking the impact myself and ending up paralyzed, never to walk again.

One of my kidneys had even ended up failing. However, since Queenie had been pregnant at the time, I had begged the doctor not to tell her to avoid upsetting her.

When I had first learned I was paralyzed, I hadn't wanted to burden Queenie and had even considered divorcing her. But she had stubbornly refused, saying she loved me and would stay by my side no matter what.

Yet, time could be both cruel and unyielding.

The woman who had once said she would always love me and stay by my side had eventually disappeared. Now, as I looked at her holding a knife to Leroy's neck, demanding I donate my kidney for Francis, a wave of crushing pain clenched my heart.

In the end, I agreed to it.

"Alright. Just don't regret it."

Queenie quickly put the knife away. "Why would I regret it? I knew you were kind, dear."

I was immediately taken to the operating room.

Queenie, along with the lead doctor, kept urging the surgical team operating on me to hurry with the kidney removal and refused their suggestion to take additional scans.

The moment my kidney was removed, Queenie's eyes lit up as she followed the staff carrying the organ out without even looking back at me.

When the doctors prepared to close my incision, the ICU monitors began emitting sharp, urgent alarm sounds as my vitals suddenly dropped. The medical staff quickly attempted to resuscitate me, but they couldn't stop my condition from worsening.

After getting the necessary equipment, they finally discovered I didn't have a second kidney.

Stunned, the doctor, Timothy Westin, quickly called Queenie to explain the situation.

"Ms. Jorian! What in the world is going on? Why doesn't your husband have another kidney? He's in critical condition. You need to bring back the kidney that was just removed."

"What? Dr. Westin, are you serious? Did Niels tell you to say this? I knew he wouldn't be so generous. Tell him we're not giving it back. Francis is already preparing to undergo the transplant surgery. How selfish can Niels be to want his kidney back now?"

With that, Queenie hung up, furious.

Although I was still under anesthesia, my mind was strangely alert, perhaps due to how close I was to death.

I heard Timothy desperately calling Queenie, explaining that there might still be a chance to save me if she returned the kidney in time.

However, Queenie refused to believe him. She was convinced that I was conspiring with Timothy to deceive her. She simply turned off her phone.

But deep down, I knew that Queenie was utterly desperate to save Francis. I had no doubt that if she knew only one of us would survive, she would pick to save Francis without hesitation.

She had met Francis after the accident during her massage therapy training. The two had become close friends over time. Queenie had often brought him home without worrying about what others would think.

I had even overheard her once saying to him how exhausting it was to care for me. It had felt like she had been carrying an endless burden, living with a paralyzed person.

She had seemed to have forgotten that she had initially gone into massage therapy out of concern for my muscle atrophy from being paralyzed.

As I lay there on the cold operating table, a tear escaped from the corner of my eye.

I couldn't help but wonder when Queenie had stopped loving me.

Perhaps it had started when I had become paralyzed while saving her during that accident. At first, Queenie had looked at me with pity, but eventually her gaze had turned into one of impatience.

Since she wanted to shake off the burden I had become, I was willing to grant her that freedom. Just as I felt my life slipping away, I sensed a small hand clutching my finger.

"Dad, please wake up. Don't sleep, okay? I promise I'll be good." I heard Leroy's voice. With the last of my strength, I opened my eyes one final time to look at him before I passed away.

The day after my death, my soul found its way to Francis' hospital room. His surgery had been successful, and Queenie was tenderly caring for him.

"Francis, congratulations on surviving! You've made it through the worst," she remarked to him, her tone soft. The way she gazed at him reminded me of how she had once looked at me in our youth.

"No, Queenie, I should be the one thanking you. Without you, Niels would never have agreed to give up his kidney for me." Francis held Queenie's hand. "Oh, how's Niels doing?"

"Oh, he's fine. He won't die without a kidney," Queenie replied indifferently. "What matters now is you, Francis. Take good care of yourself and work hard to live a normal life."

Her words felt like a dull blade slicing through my heart piece by piece. She had no idea.

While she celebrated her best friend's miraculous survival, her paralyzed husband had already died in despair in the hospital.

"Queenie, even though Niels gave me his kidney, I'm worried he'll resent you when you go back. I can't let this cause problems in your marriage. Take the kidney back. Go get the doctor."

Feigning concern, Francis tried to sit up.

I knew very well that everything Francis said was just empty words. He always put on this weak, "sensitive" act; only Queenie would fall for it.

"Don't worry about him. Stop overthinking it. Our marriage had issues long before you came along. I'm just so tired. Honestly, I get irritated every time I'm around Niels. I know I shouldn't feel that way since he saved me... Sometimes, I even wish he hadn't—"

Before Queenie could finish, Francis interrupted her. "Queenie, don't think like that. You're a good woman. You haven't done anything wrong. Everyone has the right to pursue happiness. You've done more than enough."

He then let out a cough, which prompted Queenie to rush for the doctor.

The doctor checked Francis and reassured Queenie. "Miss, rest assured, your husband is fine now." He then added to Francis, "Mr. Show, I envy you for having such a chance."

My soul stood by Queenie, watching as she remained silent, not denying a thing. The look she exchanged with Francis was full of affection.

At that moment, a nurse entered. "Ms. Jorian, there's a call for you at the nurse's station."

My soul followed Queenie out to the nurse's station, where she picked up the phone.

Leroy's small, trembling voice, choked with sobs, came through. "Mom, please come back. Daddy won't wake up no matter how I try. I'm so scared."

Queenie reassured him impatiently, likely thinking the anesthesia was still wearing off. "If he doesn't wake up, then just let him sleep more, alright? He'll wake up when he's rested enough."

"No, Mom, but… the doctor said Dad went to heaven and won't ever wake up again. Mom, come save him!"

Leroy's voice broke into sobs, and then Timothy's voice came through the phone.

"Ms. Jorian, please come back. I'm not lying; your husband has passed away—"

"Enough. Niels is really regressing. He must have become mentally twisted from being homebound. Why else would he get you to help him fabricate something so ridiculous?"

Hearing her words stung painfully. I realized then that, at some point, I had become such a useless person in her eyes.

Queenie even sneered.

"That's not it, Ms. Jorian. Your husband's body—"

Timothy hadn't finished speaking when Queenie hung up.

…

One month after my death, Queenie and Francis rode together to the hospital where I had had the surgery. As soon as she entered the ward where I had donated my kidney, she began handing out candy to everyone.

"Here. My friend, Francis, has recovered. Have some candy and share the good news."

The doctors looked at her with complicated expressions, hesitating and clearly not taking the candy.

Francis followed her with a wide smile.

Just then, a nurse came by, holding Leroy's hand. Queenie spotted them and immediately tried to hand the nurse a fistful of candy. But the nurse ignored her, even clicking her tongue in disdain.

Queenie was about to get angry when suddenly someone grabbed her hair roughly. Right when she was ready to fight back, she realized it was my mom.

"Mom, why are you here?" she exclaimed.

Devastated, Mom replied, "You heartless woman! My son is dead! How could I not be here? Unlike you, I didn't abandon my husband after he died to be with another man."

Queenie laughed upon hearing that. "Mom, are you joining in on these lies too? Niels can't possibly be dead. He can't be dead just because he's missing a kidney."

"He can't be dead, you say? As a mother, I'd give anything for my son to be alive. You don't believe my son is dead, do you? I'll show you what you've done to him!"

Grief-stricken, Mom dragged Queenie by the hair to a covered body in the morgue.

Queenie was about to lash out. However, when Mom lifted the white sheet, revealing my cold, decayed face, I saw Queenie's pupils contract in panic, her eyes gradually reddening.