I had told myself that I was past caring. Dying men didn't pick fights.

But when I looked at the four broken pieces on the floor, something in me flared. I had given ground again and again, and each time he pushed harder.

I crossed the room and punched him.

He did not even try to move. He took the blow clean to the face and dropped straight to the floor.

At the same moment, a sharp cry cut in from the kitchen. "Stop!"

Winona burst through the doorway and kicked me aside. The pill bottle flew from my pocket and skidded across the floor.

Her heel came down on the surgical wound at my side. I couldn't get up. The pain pinned me in place.

The doctor had warned me that blood cancer patients didn't heal cleanly. The wound soaked through in seconds.

She stood over me, looking down with open disgust. "Jordan. I actually thought you had changed. I see now you were just playing along. I asked you to sign those documents. If you have a problem with me, take it up with me. There was no reason to hit Danny."

I forced the words out through the pain. "Daniel smashed the bracelet."

Winona blinked. Then her expression hardened into something dismissive. "It's just a bracelet. God knows which woman gave it to you. That doesn't make it okay to hit someone."

My eyes burned. "That was my mother's."

The room fell still. Winona turned to Daniel. He gave her a wounded look and said nothing.

She turned back to me without asking him a single question. "It can be repaired. I'll have someone look at it. You're a grown man. You don't assault someone over a piece of jewelry, especially not someone who's done so much for you."

There it was again. Done so much for me. What exactly had he done?

Something snapped.

"What has he ever done for me?" I demanded.

Winona's voice turned flat and cold. "He volunteered to give blood after your accident. That's not enough for you?"

Grief crept into my voice before I could stop it. "He gave two teaspoons before you called it off. Was that because he had a cold and you were afraid his blood would make me sick, or because you couldn't stand watching him bleed for me?"

Her slap came fast and hard.

"Jordan! How dare you?! Everything I have ever done has been for you," she barked. "Danny is your blood match, yes. But that doesn't mean you run to him for every little thing. He isn't an object. He's a person."

She was heartbroken for Daniel. She had never once been heartbroken that I gave him a kidney.

I pressed a hand to my face and let out a quiet, hollow laugh. Then I knelt and gathered the broken pieces of the bracelet, one fragment at a time.

"Mom, I have nothing left," I said to no one.

In her final days, my mother had thanked Winona over and over. She had said she was glad someone was loving me in her place.

I wondered who that person was now.

Winona watched me, caught between alarm and uncertainty.

"Jordan. You still have me."

Then she watched me lose consciousness on the floor.

…

I woke up in the hospital again.

The doctor looked at me with quiet sympathy. "Mr. Wilford. Your condition has deteriorated further. You have three days at most."

Winona walked in just as he said that. "Three days?"

I kept my voice even. "Three days until I can check out."

She accepted that without question and set my painkillers on the table beside me. "Take your medication. I've already sent the bracelet out for repair. Danny shouldn't have taken it without asking, so I punished him. He's not allowed to talk to me for a full day."

She had not asked once what I was taking the pills for.

One day of silence was his punishment.

"Cheer up, Jordan. Guess what I have for you." She brought her hand out from behind her back and held out a wedding planning booklet. "I've decided we should get married. I don't want you overthinking things. The date is set for three days from now. From that day forward, I will never let you go through anything hard alone."

I kept my hands at my sides and did not take it. She did not press.

"Promise me one thing. Stop going head to head with Danny. You know why I look after him. Everything I do for him, I do for your health. For your future," she claimed.

Winona's expression softened, as if she had already moved past everything that had happened.

I knew there was no moving past it. Not for me.

"Winona. Let's end this. I don't want to get married," I said flatly.

She looked genuinely surprised, but her voice remained patient. "You're just upset. Danny and I are nothing like that. He even volunteered to be your best man. Isn't that enough?"

I let out a smile. It was the kind that meant nothing.

I didn't argue. I had three days. That was all.

…

The next morning, Winona's assistant arrived with a team of bodyguards and escorted me to the blood draw room by force.

He said Daniel had fallen from the bleachers during the wedding rehearsal with Winona and needed blood.

Inside, Winona paced, unable to stay still. Daniel sat in his wheelchair, soaking up her attention. He watched me with a look that knew exactly what it was doing.

The injury was a cut on his ankle, maybe two inches long. He had lost less than two teaspoons of blood.

Winona didn't wait for the nurse. She pushed her aside and drove the needle into my arm herself.

Her face looked apologetic, but her hands did not hesitate. "I'm sorry, Jordan. Danny fell because he was scouting the venue for you. You owe him this. You're healthy. Your body can handle losing a little blood. As soon as Danny is stable, we'll get married right away."

The blood that flowed through the tube was pink.

Winona froze. She did not understand what it meant, but she knew it was wrong.

Daniel's eyes flicked. He gripped the arms of his wheelchair and made a show of trying to stand. "Winnie, don't worry about it. I should've known Jordan wouldn't want to donate. He must have done something to make the blood come out that color. It's fine. I don't want it anyway. It's just a bit of blood loss. I can handle it."

I almost laughed. She had driven the needle in herself. What could I have done to the blood in my own veins?

Winona stood and said coldly, "Jordan, you almost had me fooled."

She turned to her assistant. "Colby, stay here and supervise. Keep drawing until the blood runs red. Don't stop."

Then she wheeled Daniel out to see the doctor.

Through the wall, I heard the doctor clearly. "The patient has mild anemia. A transfusion isn't necessary."

"It doesn't matter. I will not let anything happen to Danny," Winona replied at once.

The bodyguards around me locked down my arms and legs. I could not move.

Time passed. By 27 ounces, my veins had nearly collapsed. The flow slowed to almost nothing. The blood in the tube remained pink, even lighter than before.

The assistant's face had gone pale. He leaned toward the door. "Miss Elstein. We're at 27 ounces. But the color—"

Winona cut him off, "Not enough. Tell Jordan I will get him the best medicine and the best food to help him recover. Tell him to hold on a little longer."

I stared at nothing. I took out my phone and sent a single message to the funeral service. I asked them to come today.

Warmth left my body slowly, drawn out with every bag. At some point, my head dropped to the side, and everything went dark.

…

Half an hour later, Winona looked at the three large bags of pale pink blood the assistant carried in with shaking hands. Her expression shifted from confusion to fury.

"What is this? Are you helping him make a fool of me too?" She pushed past him to confront me herself.

The assistant's face crumpled. "Miss Elstein… didn't you know? Mr. Wilford's blood was fully drained. He's gone."