The day before my wedding, my mother discovered my fiancé spending time with his niece. Furious, her heart disease flared up, leading to an emergency transplant.

Fortunately, I had already been matched as a donor for her. Without hesitation, I chose to give her my heart and rely on an artificial one for myself.

Faced with the staggering cost of the surgery, I turned to my fiancé for help. He claimed he did not have enough cash and left to arrange the marriage certificate with Yvonne instead.

In my desperation, Heinry appeared again. This time, he not only covered all the expenses but also performed the surgery himself.

When I woke up, Heinry broke the devastating news. He told me that my mother had suffered a rejection during the transplant. The surgery had failed and she was gone forever.

Tears streamed down my face as he held me in his arms. With a tenderness I did not expect, he confessed his love for me and begged me to stay by my side for the rest of my life.

Seven years into our marriage, I overheard a conversation between Heinry and his friend.

"So you were the one who gave Wendy’s heart to Yvonne while her mother was still alive? That’s beyond cruel."

"I had no choice. Who else’s heart would have matched Yvonne’s so perfectly?"

"But we’d already found a suitable donor back then! Yvonne only needed to wait another half a day. Why the rush?"

Heinry let out a heavy sigh. "I couldn’t stand to see Yvonne suffer. Even a second of discomfort was too much for me."

***

In the study room across the door, Heinry blew out a smoke ring and then spoke with a calm tinged with a complexity voice.

"If the rules of this world forbid me from marrying her, then I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure Yvonne’s safety for the rest of her life."

His friend Zach’s tone was heavy with guilt and unease.

"But Wendy’s blood type is rare. Finding a matching heart for her has always been difficult. Over the years, she’s endured so much. She keeps coughing up blood, suffers constant chest pain, even it was difficult for her to have children."

"And don’t forget, her artificial heart has only one month left. It must be replaced with a new one soon. Do you want her to endure the agony of surgery for the rest of her life? Wendy loves you deeply. You have to give her back her heart! You’ve already secured several backups for Yvonne."

Heinry refused without even thinking about it. "No! The more backup hearts we have for Yvonne, the better her safety is ensured. I will never gamble with her health."

Zach’s frustration flared. "And what about Wendy? I can still see the way her mother died with blood, tears and hatred in her eyes. Aren't you afraid Wendy will come after you with everything she has once she finds out the truth?"

For a moment, Heinry was silent. Then, with a self-deprecating laugh, he said, "If she wants my life, she can have it. I’ve been prepared to dedicate my life to her care anyway. As long as Yvonne is happy, I’ll die without regrets."

The veins on the back of my hand bulged as I gripped the study door handle, my entire body trembling uncontrollably.

I recorded everything on my phone. Before Heinry could sense my presence, I fled back to the bedroom in despair and collapsed onto the floor.

My body, weakened by the artificial heart, struggled to adjust. Frequent bouts of coughing up blood and searing chest pain had become my reality.

Heinry had once told me that heart transplants required living donors. Since my mother had passed away, replacing my heart was no longer an option.

At the time, I accepted it. At least, my heart could always would always remain with my mother.

No wonder, when I begged to see my mother one last time, Heinry took charge of her funeral arrangements, claiming I was too frail to leave my bed after the surgery.

But now, the cruel truth shattered me. His so-called redemption and affection were nothing but façades, raised by a devil in disguise. He had never performed any surgery on my mother at all!

Neither I nor my mother were anything more than sacrifices on Heinry’s altar for the woman he loved!

To preserve his lies, he even had the audacity to push my mother into the operating room first, forcing her to watch with her own eyes as her daughter’s heart was removed and given to someone else until she died in tears, powerless to do anything!

Even without my heart, my chest still ached so much that I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

"Wendy?"

Heinry appeared out of nowhere. The moment he saw me vomiting blood again, he rushed to my side, carried me to the bed and wiped the blood from my mouth with an expression of deep distress.

"I'm sorry, Wendy. I didn’t take good care of you. Don’t worry, I’ve arranged for the best artificial heart and it’ll be replaced in a few days,"

The red rings under his eyes seemed to shimmer with guilt, his reaction so familiar. It was exactly the same as every other time he had seen me in pain over the years.

Back then, I thought he truly felt sorry for me. I had always pretended to be strong, reassuring him that everything was fine.

Looking back now, I could not believe how foolish I was.

"Heinry, I’ve been in so much pain all these years. Can I stop using the artificial heart?"

Hadn’t you already prepared several backup heart sources for Yvonne? Couldn’t you… give me my heart back?

He froze for only a moment before regaining his composure. Smiling, he reached out to stroke my head and said, "Wendy, don’t say such silly things. There’s no suitable heart for you. Without the artificial heart, you wouldn’t survive. Do you want me to stand by and watch you die? If that’s the case, you might as well kill me first."

No?

But the heart beating in Yvonne’s chest was mine.

A chilling numbness spread through my body as I forced a smile. "You're right. I was being silly."

That night, I filled the bathtub for him, adding an entire bottle of sleep-aid essential oil under the guise of helping him relax.

When he returned, he soon fell into a deep sleep.

Perhaps in his dreams, he saw the person he longed for most because he murmured her name.

"Yvonne… I’ll protect you, no matter the cost… even if it kills me."

I stood there, staring at the man I had loved for seven long years. At last, the tears I had been holding back began to fall.

I called my best friend, a doctor who had just returned to this country after years of working in Africa.

"I want to ask you to perform a heart surgery on me."

"Yes, I’m sure. See you in three days."

What was so frightening about death?

After all, death was the ultimate release from pain.

After hanging up the phone, I quietly took Heinry’s phone and went into the study.

Sure enough, today was Yvonne’s birthday.

I had never known that Heinry had a hidden Instagram account until now.

He probably forgot to switch to his main account back. His avatar was a minimalist design with one stylized word. Aiyan.

So straightforward. So shameless.

Curious, I tapped into his feed. It was a shrine to Yvonne and every post was a declaration of his obsession and flamboyant devotion.

[The first day I arrived at the Spencer Family house, I met Yvonne Spencer and suddenly understood what a heartbeat feels like.]

[Yvonne got married and I went mad with jealousy. I wanted to keep her with me, hidden inside my body, mine alone.]

[I kept thinking about Yvonne today. I know Wendy’s body is fragile, but I couldn’t help myself. I missed her so much that I kept calling her name in my heart, over and over, as though wishing I could change the person under me into her…]

In addition, he gave Yvonne Spencer various luxury jewelry and designer handbags.

He had even purchased a heart-shaped private island abroad in her name.

And all these years, the only thing Heinry had ever given me was this artificial heart that brought me a constant source of suffering and endless torment.

While I grieved the loss of my mother and endured the agony of coughing up blood, Yvonne was lounging on the soft sands of her island paradise, basking in the sun.

My hands trembled as I held the phone. Rage and nausea twisted through me. I stumbled back and retched.

As I leaned against the bookshelf for support, my hand brushed against something and a book fell to the floor.

But when I picked it up, I realized it it was actually a box, disguised with a book’s cover.

Inside, I found several certificates for “voluntary heart donation” and stacks of remittance receipts.

Heinry sent large sums of money to the families of heart donors every month.

There was only one condition. The donors were forbidden from giving their hearts to anyone else. If Yvonne needed it, they were obligated to donate immediately.

The last certificate in the box was mine. But the recipient of the donation had been changed from my mother to Yvonne.

I recalled the day Heinry handed me a stack of documents to sign, insisting they were required for the surgery preparations. Desperate to save my mother, I barely glanced at them before signing.

This certificate must have been slipped in among them and my mother’s original document was most likely destroyed long ago.

Heinry, you truly went to great lengths for Yvonne.

Later, I printed out the divorce agreement and sat on the sofa, a wave of loneliness engulfing me. The grief weighed so heavily on my chest that sleep was impossible.

The next morning, Heinry was oblivious to my turmoil and assumed I had simply risen early.

Perhaps guilt from seeing me cough up blood the previous night spurred him on, so he prepared a meticulously balanced breakfast, every dish rich with nutrients.

When I remained still at the table, his voice tinged with concern.

"Wendy, why aren’t you eating? Are you in a bad mood?"

"It's nothing. I just miss my mother."

He sighed.

"Wendy, you’re not the only one. I think of her all the time, too. She was such a kind, selfless person... but because of me, I couldn’t save her when it mattered. I still remember her holding my hand, asking us to promise to live a happy life together."

If my mother had had even an ounce of strength left to lift her hand, it would have been to strangle him to death.

Looking at the practiced sorrow on his face, I could not help but feel a bitter wave of sarcasm.

I was about to bring up the divorce, but Heinry spoke first casually as if he were making a passing suggestion.

"Wendy, you’ve been feeling down for a while now. Yvonne is coming back to China today and it’s her birthday. There’s a family dinner at the old house. Why don’t we go? It might cheer you up a bit."

"I know you haven’t wanted to see her since... what happened with Mom. But so many years have passed. Yvonne didn’t mean for any of that to happen. After all, we’re family. She’s always been sensitive. If we don’t go, I’m afraid she’ll be hurt…"

So this was his real purpose today. All that pretense of care was just a way to see his beloved.

I cut him off coldly, "Whatever."

Heinry smiled, relieved.

"I knew my Wendy was the most understanding."

As soon as we entered the old house, the sight before me was almost nauseating. Yvonne Spencer, dressed like a noble princess, clung to my mother-in-law’s arm, acting coquettishly.

My mother-in-law beamed with delight, indulging her every whim, even feeding her slices of fresh fruit into her mouth.

She was adored and spoiled in every possible way.

Yvonne spotted me immediately. She turned to my mother-in-law and said it with a tone that was laced with malice.

"Grandma, you’ve fattened me up with all your treats! Now that Aunt Wendy is here, why don’t you give her the leftovers? I don’t like it and she doesn’t have a mother, so…"

My mother-in-law followed her gaze and noticed me for the first time. Her eyes swept over my plain clothes and a sneer curled on her lips.

"Who invited you, a sickly wretch, to come here? Do you want to bring your bad luck and poverty into our lives?"

"Our Spencer Family is a distinguished family of doctors, yet you walk around looking like a beggar. Do you have any idea how much shame you’ve brought to my son? Married for years and can’t even give him a child. Useless and brainless, just like your damn mother. Did she never teach you how to behave?"

Heinry was not even a biological member of their family. He was the child his stepmother brought into the marriage.

Perhaps out of insecurity, she had always insisted that he marry a woman from a strong family to ensure his place in the household.

Years later, after Yvonne’s father died in a car accident, Heinry proved himself. He earned fame as the “golden scalpel” and won over my father-in-law, who entrusted him with the family business.

Only then did my mother-in-law grudgingly agree to our marriage.