My wife's first love got kidney disease. To save him, she gave the kidney meant for me to him.

To stop me from storming the hospital, she locked me in our bedroom.

She spent every day and night by his bedside, cooking for him, tending to his every need.

All she left me were some crackers and a carton of expired milk.

A month later, she finally opened the door.

"Have you thought things through?"

My face was pale as I looked at her in despair. "Without that kidney, I'm going to die."

"Don't talk about dying. You've been waiting this long; the pain, the discomfort… you must be used to it by now. Do you really need to say things like that just to scare me?"

"But Mark is different. He's never been able to handle pain. Can't you try to understand him more?"

"Understand," I nodded stiffly.

As I walked out of that room, I resolutely chose to leave.

But she wouldn't let go of my hand, even after being stabbed multiple times!

...

I struggled to get up, wanting to leave the bedroom to find water.

I hadn't had a drop of warm water in days.

When Sarah locked me in here, she only left milk that had expired months ago.

I'd finished the milk long ago. With no water, I had to resort to drinking tap water from the bathroom sink.

"Get back here! Did I say you could leave?"

Sarah was furious, yanking me back forcefully.

I was weak, my stomach aching dully. Caught off guard, I stumbled and hit the corner of the desk.

"It's not like this illness is new for you, is it? You've been fine all this time, haven't you? You've managed this long, what difference does waiting another month or two for a kidney make? Why are you throwing a tantrum now!"

My arm throbbed numbly where it hit the desk, but the sharpest pain didn't seem to come from there.

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to look at the woman I had loved deeply for so many years.

My chest felt like a gaping hole had been torn open.

During those days trapped in this room, I kept asking myself:

Am I really that worthless? What do I even mean to Sarah?

Seeing my silence, Sarah furrowed her delicate brows and finally took a hard look at me.

"Ethan, are you trying to threaten me with a hunger strike?"

"We've been together for years. You know I respond better to kindness than threats, right?"

I lowered my gaze.

There were so many things I didn't know after all these years with Sarah.

This was just one more.

I swallowed hard, but the lump of bitterness in my throat wouldn't go down.

"Sarah, I just have one question."

"Locking me in here, sealing the windows shut early on, taking my phone... did you plan all along to give my kidney to Mark? Leaving me without food or water, did you even consider how I'd survive? Did you deliberately forget I need dialysis? Did I—"

"Enough, enough! Why are you rambling on?"

Sarah waved her hand impatiently, then bent down, picked up the trash can, and shoved it in my face.

"What's this? Huh? Look at this! Ethan, you ate everything, scraped it clean, and now you're accusing me of trying to starve you?"

My eyes stung. I quickly raised a thin hand and wiped furiously at my face.

Then I turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

"Where are you going! I'm not finished talking!"

Sarah followed close behind, but she stopped dead in her tracks, just as I did.

In the living room, on the massage chair I'd bought for myself...

Right there, lay a man.

2

Seeing Sarah and me, he quickly paused whatever he was doing and got up.

Sarah saw him and immediately pushed past me, rushing over.

"Slow down! What's the hurry? Don't you know you just had surgery? Be careful how you move!"

In an instant, Sarah seemed like a different person.

Her face showed mock annoyance, but she acted like a petite

woman, almost pouting playfully.

"Sarah, don't worry, I'm fine. But... I heard what you and Ethan were talking about just now."

"Ethan, Sarah did this behind my back. When I found out, I felt terrible. I didn't realize she'd done so much for me. I feel really bad, really guilty. How about this? Let me kneel down for you. Thank you for your incredible generosity!"

Though Mark was recovering from major surgery, his face was flushed with health.

The health I longed for...

He claimed ignorance with every word.

My face deathly pale, I stared intently at him.

Just as I was about to speak, another voice cut in faster.

"Mark! What's this about kneeling? Why would you kneel to him!"

"Ethan's been sick for so long, he's used to it. Don't blame yourself. You need to rest now. Lie down for a bit. Later, I'll go buy a nice chicken and make you some soup to build up your strength."

"Sarah, you've already done so much for me. This past month, you've taken care of everything. Even my own mother admits she couldn't have done better. You even got me that expensive VIP room, spending every day in that little kitchenette figuring out different healthy meals for me. I really don't know how to thank you!"

Mark, getting emotional, took a few steps forward and grabbed my hand.

"Ethan, I really envy you having such a wonderful wife. Sarah's a good woman. You can't keep being stubborn and upsetting her like you used to."

Bitterness flooded my heart. I pulled my hand away from his grasp.

Was I upsetting Sarah?

When my condition worsened, when I was most vulnerable and needed her company the most, she was tirelessly by Mark's side, barely sleeping.

All because Mark had just been diagnosed, and he was worried, scared, afraid of pain.

And the kidney I had waited so long for? Sarah had forcibly tricked the system to transfer it to Mark.

Every word Mark spoke felt like a knife deliberately twisted in my chest.

And Sarah was the one handing him the knife.

I managed a bleak smile. "Is that so? If she's so great, then she's all yours."

I turned and walked towards the door.

This house was suffocating me.

If I stayed any longer, I wouldn't survive.

But even in this state, Sarah wouldn't let me go.

The moment my fingers touched the doorknob.

Sarah's voice came from behind.

"Ethan, are you crazy! What nonsense are you talking! Is your mind that filthy? You see dirt in everything?"

"Mark and I are just purely friends!"

A sarcastic sneer spread across my pale face. "Boyfriend, you mean?"

SLAP!

My head snapped to the side. I slowly lowered my eyes.

Sarah stared at her hand in disbelief, then looked at me frantically. "I... Ethan, I didn't mean to. I was just so angry! Yes! You were talking nonsense, that's why I hit you!"

I blinked slowly. I wanted to hit back, but the ringing in my ears grew louder and louder.

I desperately reached out, trying to grab onto something, but caught only air. Just as I started to fall towards Sarah...

I watched, wide-eyed, as Mark urgently pulled her away. "Sarah, watch out!"

3

When I woke up again, I had a nasal cannula in my nostrils and clips on my fingers.

The steady beeping of machines filled the air.

Sarah wasn't in the room.

I removed the wires attached to me and slowly shuffled out of the hospital room.

As soon as I opened the door, I heard voices from the nearby stairwell.

It was Sarah's voice.

The stairwell was dim. Mark held Sarah tightly in his arms.

"Sarah, that really scared me back there. I thought he was going to hit you! If he had dared to lay a hand on you, I don't care if he gave me this kidney, I would've punched him!"

Sarah blushed, gently pushing him. "Why would he hit me? You're overthinking it, Mark. Besides, you were there, weren't you?"

"Sarah, I really regret it. If I hadn't left back then, if I had stayed here, would things be different? We wouldn't have missed all these years."

I let out a short, bitter laugh as I watched Mark lean down to kiss Sarah, silencing whatever she was about to say.

"Are you the patient from Bed 13? What are you doing standing here!"

A sudden voice from behind startled the woman in the stairwell.

Sarah hurriedly pushed open the stairwell door, not even wiping the tears from her face.

She frowned at me. "Ethan, why are you up?"

I gave Sarah a long look, then shifted my gaze to Mark, who now wore a smug expression.

Without Sarah watching, he didn't even bother pretending anymore.

"Are you asking him? How are you monitoring your patient? He took off his ECG leads and wandered off, and you didn't even know! The doctor's been calling for you, where were you?"

The nurse scolded Sarah sharply.

Sarah swallowed but said nothing.

I turned and went back to my room. Sarah followed close behind.

Since Sarah didn't show up, the doctor came to my room personally.

"Ethan, you're severely ill. Why did you wait so long to come to the hospital?"

I pressed my lips together, unsure how to answer.

Sarah spoke up, sounding genuinely surprised. "Isn't he always like this? He's been on dialysis for years. Even in the hospital, it's just IV drips and anti-inflammatories. Isn't it the same as taking meds at home and getting infusions at a local clinic?"

I looked at Sarah, my face expressionless.

All those years, afraid of worrying her, I'd always rush home early.

Going back and forth to the hospital was inconvenient, and I didn't want her to worry. Plus, she had just started a new job and couldn't easily take time off. So, I went to a small clinic near our house for my infusions.

If I finished early, I could go to the supermarket next door and buy groceries to cook her favorite dishes.

After all these years of marriage, I never knew Sarah could even make chicken soup.

A sourness stung my nose. The hole in my chest felt like it had been gouged wider.

"The same? How could it be the same! Didn't we explain the test results to you, the family member? His condition is very serious now. His body's metabolism is severely compromised. How can a grown man like him be malnourished? Aren't you feeding him at home?"

The doctor pointedly scolded Sarah, whose face flushed red and pale by turns.

Of course, she wouldn't dare tell anyone what she had done to me.

And even if I could speak up, it wouldn't bring back the kidney that should have been mine.

I lay weakly on the hospital bed.

Sarah stood beside me, frowning, flipping through my test reports page after page.

It hit me then. Before this moment, she had never actually looked at them closely, nor had she ever really listened to what the doctors said.

4

Memories stretched back. From when I first got sick, Sarah was always impatient.

She refused to accept the reality, didn't want to hear me talk about it.

Back then, I thought she was just scared of losing me, afraid of being left alone in the house.

So, I listened to the doctor's advice alone. I went for check-ups alone. I bought medication alone. I got infusions alone. All the worry and fear, I digested it all by myself.

I didn't dare tell her, afraid she'd be sad, upset, afraid she'd lie awake all night worrying, just like me.

But then later...

Later, when Sarah found out her first love, Mark, had a similar illness, she locked herself in her room and cried for a whole day and night, refusing to eat or drink.

The irony was, at that time, I thought she was worried because my own condition had worsened.

I stood outside her door, trying to comfort her for ages. She wouldn't open it. She sat crying on the floor inside, so I sat on the floor outside, leaning against the door, telling her joke after joke to cheer her up.

Separated by just a door, I thought that even if fate hadn't given me a healthy body, it had given me the most important person, my love, and that wasn't so bad.

But I never imagined that even this small hope was false.

When the doctor told me they'd found a suitable kidney match, that I could have surgery soon, that I wouldn't have to run between home and the hospital anymore, that I could live like a normal person, take her traveling to all the places she wanted to go – I had even planned routes on my phone.

I never expected what awaited me was Sarah locking me in the room, decisively and ruthlessly giving away the kidney I had waited so long and hard for to someone else!

"How could it be this serious?"

Sarah lifted her fair face, looking at me in disbelief.

"Sarah, let me see those."

Mark stepped forward and snatched all the test reports from her.

"Is there anything else? If not, please leave. I need to rest." I sat up straighter.

Sarah's eyes widened. "What are you doing? Mark means well! Look at your nasty temper, snapping at everyone!"

Right in front of me, Mark reached out and took Sarah's arm.

"Sarah, calm down. I've been through this, I understand. These doctors love to exaggerate. They just want patients like me and Ethan to worry and panic, so we'll agree quickly to all the drugs and tests they suggest."

"It's probably not that big a deal; they just make it sound terrifying."

"Doctors in public hospitals aren't always the best. We should find a real specialist. My cousin is actually an expert in this field. I can send him Ethan's medical records for a look."

"Okay, thank you for the trouble, Mark."

Sarah went with Mark to find the doctor and get copies of my records printed.

Lying in bed, a wave of intense pain washed over me. My pale face instantly beaded with sweat.

My body trembled as I tried to sit up and press the call bell.

But every movement intensified the pain!

I was right here in the hospital, yet I couldn't move.

Just as despair filled my eyes, the door opened again.

I looked towards Sarah, full of hope. "It hurts so bad, quick... call the doctor—"

Suddenly, the stack of test reports slammed hard against my face.

"Enough! How long are you going to keep pretending!"