CHAPTER 2

LENA POV

I thought calling my brother would make me feel better.

Instead, the pain only grew worse.

The moment I stepped into his apartment, I finally broke.

Everything I'd been holding in since the hospital came crashing down.

"My wife can wait."

The words played over and over in my head like a cruel recording.

Daniel sat beside me on the couch, silent while I cried.

When the tears finally stopped, he handed me a tissue.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

So I did, I told him every detail.

By the time I finished, Daniel's face had gone pale with anger.

"He did what?"

"He gave the heart to Vanessa."

"No." Daniel shook his head immediately. "That's impossible."

I laughed bitterly. "I heard him myself."

"He can't just decide who gets an organ."

"Apparently he can. He knew a donor had been found."

Daniel froze. "He knew?"

I nodded. "He looked surprised when I told him. But not fully surprised."

My phone suddenly vibrated.

The screen lit up.

ETHAN.

For one stupid second, my heart jumped.

Maybe he'd realized what he'd done.

Maybe he'd come to explain.

Maybe—

The call ended.

A second later, a message arrived.

Where are you?

I stared at the screen.

Nothing else. No apology or an explanation.

Just: Where are you?

As if I were the one causing problems.

Daniel glanced at the message and scoffed.

"Don't answer."

I should have listened.

Instead, I typed: At Daniel's.

His reply came instantly.

Good. I won't be home tonight.

The pain in my chest sharpened.

I stared at the message for several seconds until the words blurred.

No mention of the donor heart.

Not even a simple question asking if I was okay.

The realization settled heavily in my chest.

Ethan wasn't avoiding the conversation because he didn't know what to say.

He was avoiding it because, in his mind, there was nothing to discuss.

He had already made his choice.

I remembered the night I was first diagnosed. I'd been twenty-six and terrified.

The doctor had explained my condition while I sat there numb, unable to process a single word.

Heart failure, transplant, survival rates.

Everything had become a blur.

When we got home that night, I'd locked myself in the bathroom and cried until I couldn't breathe.

Ethan had sat outside the door for nearly an hour.

When I finally opened it, he'd wrapped his arms around me and whispered that we would get through it together.

I had believed him.

God, I had believed every word.

For three years, I'd clung to those promises whenever things got hard.

Every surgery.

Every setback.

Every time a potential donor fell through.

I'd told myself that no matter what happened, I wasn't alone.

Now I wondered when that changed.

I suddenly felt exhausted.

"Maybe you should block him," Daniel said.

I shook my head. "Not yet."

An hour later, I left Daniel's apartment.

I told him I needed some air.

The truth was I couldn't breathe.

Everything felt too heavy.

My marriage.

My illness.

The future.

I wandered aimlessly until I found myself standing outside a small coffee shop across from the hospital.

I almost turned around.

Then I saw her.

Vanessa Blake.

She sat by the window wearing a cream-colored coat.

Looking beautiful, elegant and healthy.

The kind of woman people noticed the second she entered a room.

She looked up, our eyes met and she smiled.

Almost like she'd been expecting me.

My stomach tightened.

Before I could leave, she stood and walked outside.

"Lena."

I didn't answer.

She stopped a few feet away.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then she sighed. "I suppose you know."

There it was.

Not even pretending or denying it.

I folded my arms. "Know what?"

Her expression softened into fake sympathy.

"Ethan told me about the donor."

A lump formed in my throat. "And?"

She looked away briefly. "As much as I hate the situation, I need that heart too."

The audacity left me speechless.

Need.

As if I didn't.

As if I wasn't dying.

Vanessa took a step closer. "Ethan is only trying to save a life."

"My life." I said and stopped.

Then she smiled sadly. "That's exactly the problem."

The words hit harder than a slap.

"What does that mean?"

She hesitated.

Then said quietly, "If there's only one heart available... someone has to come second."

I stared at her.

Finally understanding.

This wasn't guilt.

She wasn't ashamed.

She genuinely believed she deserved it.

"I've known Ethan for twelve years," she continued softly. "Before you."

I felt my nails dig into my palms.

"He told me once that losing me was the biggest regret of his life."

The world seemed to tilt.

Vanessa lowered her eyes. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

Liars always say that.

Then she looked directly at me. "If you really love him, you'll understand why he's doing this."

My heart stopped.

For a second, I couldn't speak.

The sheer arrogance of her words stole every response from my throat.

She was asking me to prove my love by accepting my own replacement.

To prove my love by surrendering the one thing keeping me alive.

I searched her face for some sign of guilt.

Some hint that she understood what she was asking of me.

But there was nothing.

I finally understood, neither of them expected me to fight.

They expected me to sacrifice myself, quietly step aside and die politely.

I looked at Vanessa for a long moment.

Then I smiled, calmly.

The smile of someone whose heart had finally broken beyond repair.

"You're right."

Relief flashed across her face. "I am?"

"Yes." I nodded slowly.

"If there's only one heart available..." I took a step back. "...someone should come second."

Confusion crossed her face.

Before she could ask what I meant, I turned and walked away.

Behind me, I heard Vanessa call my name.

I didn't stop.

For the first time since leaving the hospital, I felt strangely calm.

I had spent three years fighting to keep my heart beating.

Now it was time to stop fighting for people who wanted it to stop.

Neither of them realized they had just made the biggest mistake of their lives.

They thought I would keep begging to be chosen.

For the first time in five years, they were wrong.

CHAPTER 3

LENA POV

The next morning, I woke up with blood on my pillow.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

Then I touched my nose.

My fingertips came away red.

I stared at the blood in silence.

Three years ago, the sight would have terrified me.

Now it only makes me tired.

The doctor had warned me this would happen.

My heart was getting weaker and my body was running out of time.

I cleaned myself up and headed back to my apartment.

The second I stepped inside, I noticed Ethan sitting at the dining table.

Relief flashed through me before I could stop it.

For one foolish moment, I thought he was here because of me.

Maybe he had finally realized what he'd done.

Maybe he wanted to talk.

Maybe—

"I've been calling you."

His voice shattered the illusion immediately.

I dropped my purse onto the counter. "My phone was on silent."

Ethan stood.

His eyes scanned my face. "You look pale."

I almost laughed. That was what he noticed?

Not the fact that he had given away my chance to live.

Not the fact that I had spent the night crying.

Just that I looked pale.

"I'm fine."

The familiar lie rolled off my tongue.

His jaw tightened. "You keep saying that."

I said nothing.

Instead, I asked,

"Why are you here?"

A strange expression crossed his face.

"I wanted to check on you."

The answer sounded rehearsed, as if he'd forced himself to say it.

Before I could respond, his phone vibrated.

I didn't need to guess who it was.

Vanessa.

Again.

Ethan glanced at the screen as his expression changed instantly into worry.

All the emotions he never seemed to have for me anymore.

He answered immediately. "Vanessa?"

I looked away.

I couldn't bear to watch.

Through the silence, I heard her weak voice.

"Ethan... I'm sorry. I shouldn't be calling at this time."

He was already grabbing his car keys. "What's wrong?"

I felt sick.

A few seconds later, Ethan ended the call.

"Vanessa fainted during physical therapy."

Of course she did.

He was already heading toward the door. "I should go."

I stared at him.

The irony was almost laughable.

The man whose wife was dying, was rushing to another woman.

"Ethan."

He paused.

For a second, I almost told him.

I almost said: I'm dying.

The donor heart was mine.

You gave away my future.

Please choose me just once.

But then I remembered the conference room.

My wife can wait.

The words killed whatever hope remained.

"Never mind."

Something flickered in his eyes.

Disappointment, confusion.

Maybe even guilt.

Then it disappeared.

"I'll come back later." He said as the door closed behind him and the apartment was thrown into silence.

I stood there for several seconds before my knees suddenly buckled.

An unbearable pain exploded through my chest.

A gasp escaped me as I reached for the wall but missed and instead hit the floor.

The room spun.

I struggled for breath.

My vision blurred.

The next thing I knew, someone was shaking my shoulder.

"Lena!"

Daniel's voice.

Panic filled his face.

I blinked, confused.

"What happened?"

"I came to check on you." His voice trembled.

"You weren't answering your phone."

I looked down to see my phone lay shattered beside me.

I must have dropped it when I collapsed.

Daniel helped me to sit up.

The fear in his eyes told me everything.

This wasn't normal anymore.

My condition was getting worse.

That afternoon, he drove me to the hospital.

Dr. Harrison reviewed my scans in grim silence.

Finally, he removed his glasses. "Lena."

My stomach tightened. "What is it?"

The doctor hesitated.

Then said quietly, "The progression is accelerating."

I already knew, I could feel it. "How much time?"

The room went silent.

Daniel immediately turned toward the doctor. "Don't."

But I needed to know.

I looked directly at him. "Tell me."

Dr. Harrison sighed heavily. "If you don't receive a transplant soon..." He paused.

Then delivered the words that shattered whatever remained of my future.

"You may have less than three months."

Three months.

Not six.

Three.

Daniel cursed under his breath.

The room blurred around me.

Three months.

Ninety days.

That was all I had left.

When we finally left the office, I felt numb.

Completely numb.

Daniel wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "We'll find another option."

I didn't answer.

Because we both knew the truth.

There wasn't another option.

There had been one.

A donor heart.

The donor heart Ethan gave away.

As we walked through the hospital lobby, I froze.

A burst of laughter echoed through the building.

I knew that laugh.

Vanessa.

My gaze lifted automatically, and there they were.

Ethan and Vanessa.

Standing near the hospital café.

She was smiling and laughing healthy enough to stroll through the hospital while she leaned comfortably against my husband.

Then I noticed the shopping bags in Ethan's hands.

Three of them.

Vanessa held up a silver evening dress. "What about this one?"

Ethan smiled. "It's perfect."

She laughed, slightly pale.

The tenderness in his voice hit harder than any diagnosis.

I stared at them from across the lobby.

Neither of them noticed me.

Neither of them saw the woman whose life they were stealing.

Then Vanessa reached up and kissed Ethan's cheek.

My heart stopped.

Ethan didn't pull away, instead he…smiled.

The world tilted beneath my feet.

Daniel immediately grabbed my arm. "Lena."

I couldn't breathe or think.

I could only stare.

Three months.

I had three months left.

And my husband was helping another woman choose dresses while my future slipped away.

For the first time, a terrifying thought entered my mind.

Maybe Ethan wasn't choosing Vanessa because he loved her.

Maybe he was choosing her because he'd already accepted that I was going to die.

And if that was true...

Then there was nothing left to save.