Foolish Choice

We spent five years together. No matter how hard life got, I never complained. I always stayed by her side. She knew how deep my love for her ran, and she never believed I'd leave her.

I knew she loved me deeply as well. She loved me so much, she'd never let me sacrifice myself just to save her. There was only one path left for me. I had to swallow my pain and pretend that I'd had enough.

I had to pretend I'd had enough of living a miserable life with her. I had to act like I hated living with her, where hope was nowhere to be found. I had to pretend that I had enough of one meal a day, cheap medicine, and a rough life.

I told her I had had enough of thinking too much just to buy a simple thing.

And that day was torturous. Even now, I could still see it in my mind. The girl who was always so headstrong and fearless shed tears for the first time as she signed the papers.

I signed the organ donation papers at the same time as well. After the surgery, I left her, and the world called me all kinds of names over it. I returned to the rental. The place where we spent five years together.

This was where I would wait until death took me into its arms.

It was surprising that I would see Jessica again. Now, she was getting further and further away from me. She became the kind of woman she said she would. I could never go back to those days.

I watched her. The woman the news wouldn't stop talking about. My heart broke, yet I felt proud.

And then my phone rang. That was it for memory lane. I picked up the phone, and the banker told me the 30 grand was a wrong transfer. I needed to give the money back, or I'd be sued.

I hung up and smiled bitterly. There was nothing I could say. A moment of silence later, I called my buddy and asked him to get me a job so I could clear my debt.

Jessica hated my guts. If she knew a gold-digger like me had to pay her back in instalments, she'd accept it happily. She would watch me work myself to the bone to pay her off.

Thanks to my heart, I had no strength at all, and most jobs were closed to me. All I could work on were odd jobs, and they were barely enough to keep me alive.

Christian Chandler, my buddy, knew that my health was a mess. He got me a waiting job at a banquet hall. Easy job. I could make 75 dollars a day.

I changed into my uniform and put on my mask, then it was time to work. As I served the guests drinks, I ran into Jessica again.

She was in an expensive gown and looked like the perfect picture of elegance. Christopher was in a crisp suit and looked sharp. They were hand in hand, the epitome of a perfect couple. Everyone couldn't get enough of them.

I only had a glance, and I hung my head low. The tray was up, and Jessica did not recognize me. As I turned, Christopher said, "Hey, do your job properly, waiter. You just splashed wine all over my suit!"

I stopped in my tracks and checked his clothes. There was only a patch on the suit's corner. Instead of saying anything, I kept my head low and wiped the patch away.

Jessica was looking at me, a frown creasing her forehead. Her lips were nothing but a fine line now.

Evil spread in Christopher's eyes. He slammed his foot into my chest. Pain pierced every inch of my body. I crumpled to the ground and gasped in agony.

"Take your filthy hands off me! Security, get him out of here!"

Though there was fury on his face, the smug smile on his lips betrayed his cruel delight. Even though I had only exposed my eyes, when I met Jessica, she recognized me.

Her lips trembled, and a hint of pain flickered in her eyes. She was feeling for me, but only for a moment. Then, it was replaced by derision. She raised her hand and stopped the guards, then she pulled my mask off. "You should be saying hi to your ex-wife, Jonathan."

Ridiculous Request

Christopher pretended he only recognized me then, and he pulled me up in a hurry. "John? What are you doing here? You're Jessica's ex-husband! You can't be a waiter!"

A pregnant pause joined the hall. Not a single sound was heard. Everyone turned their eyes to me, and then ridicule began.

"Heard Ms. Goldenfold's ex-husband left her when she needed him most. And he did it for money."

"Well, guess God is punishing him now."

"He left Ms. Goldenfold, and now he's a waiter. He deserves it."

Someone splashed red wine on me, and then the flood began. The glasses smashed against my skin and shattered into pieces. Alcohol and blood merged and covered the ground in a crimson deluge.

These people were sycophants, and they were all trying to butter up Jessica. Blood trickled down my forehead, but I felt no pain. All I offered was silence.

Jessica looked at me coldly. "Why aren't you saying anything? Talking to you is a paid service now?" She sneered. The derision continued.

"You're waiting here just for money, eh? Well, wish granted." She swung her arm and told someone to bring a dozen bottles of expensive red wine. Then, she told them to open them up. "Finish all these, and I will pay you 45 grand!"

She slammed 45 grand, cash, onto the ground. The green did not go well with the red. And the blue of ice in her eyes nearly froze everything.

The guests had nothing but mockery for me. They were watching the drama unfold.

Since I went through with the transplant, my body's strength started to fail me, day by day. I could not even lift anything slightly heavy. Running and jumping were monumental tasks. Even walking took the wind out of me.

Most people would drown their sorrows in alcohol. If I so much as touched it, my heart would protest and stop working.

Still, I met her eyes and forced a smile. "So, I don't have to give the 30 grand back?"

She paused, caught by surprise. A flash of fury flared in her eyes. And then, through clenched teeth, she hissed, "You don't!"

"You have a deal." I smiled and grabbed a bottle. Then, I drained it.

My body was on the verge of collapse. My doctor told me not to even have a drop of alcohol.

Now the flame of alcohol was filling up my mouth. I was retching out of reflex, and I nearly hurled, but I held my unease in and swallowed the liquid.

Then, it was bottle after bottle.

Everyone only watched in brutish amusement. This was a joke to them. Jessica's expression, however, was getting stormier by the minute.

I drained another bottle and was about to get another one. That made her snap, and she grabbed my hand. "Are you that much of a gold-digger? Is money all you live for?"

I stared into her blood-red eyes, and I nodded. "Yes. I live for money."

She flung me away in fury. "Fine, then finish every last drop!"

Something crushing was weighing me down. The artificial heart in my chest was slowing down, threatening to stop.

I smiled and took a deep breath. Just when I was about to drain another bottle, she couldn't take it anymore. Jessica pulled the bottle away and let out a guttural roar. "Enough!"

That was the last straw for my body. I slumped to the ground. The shards of glass buried themselves in my flesh and drenched the ground further in crimson.

Christian heard the commotion and hurried over. The sight horrified him, and he held me up. To Jessica, he roared, "Jonathan gave his heart for you! He can't touch even a drop of alcohol, or his artificial heart stops beating! He'll die!"