My boyfriend, Samuel Sullivan, donated a kidney to his childhood sweetheart.
Then he turned around and proposed to me.
In my last life, I said yes to that proposal.
After the wedding, every burden in the house landed on me and me alone.
Samuel only had one kidney. He couldn't overexert himself, couldn't be under stress, couldn't do anything heavy.
So I earned the money and ran the household.
I dropped dead of overwork at forty.
And Samuel took my money and married his childhood sweetheart.
The two of them went on to live a shameless, carefree life.
So this time, reborn, when Samuel got down on one knee again—
I turned him down flat.
"A useless man with only one kidney—why on earth would I marry you?"
……
"Mavis, marry me!"
Samuel knelt before me on one knee, roses in one hand, a diamond ring in the other.
His face was still a little pale from the kidney surgery a few days back.
But there was a smile at the corner of his mouth.
He was certain I wouldn't say no.
After all, we'd been together seven years.
Marrying him had become an obsession for me.
Even after he'd stood me up over and over for that girl.
Even after he'd ignored every objection I raised and donated his kidney to her anyway.
There was no way I would ever refuse him.
His buddies stood behind him, egging him on.
"Say yes, say yes!"
Someone hurried me along. "Mavis Gilbert, just say yes to him!"
"Come on, isn't marrying Sam the thing you dream about?"
"Sam's proposing to you himself now—what are you even waiting for?"
It had gone the same way last time. A month before, Samuel had just given Tilda Fox his kidney.
Barely out of the hospital, he proposed to me.
He said I was the one he loved most.
Donating to Tilda was only because they'd grown up together, he said.
He couldn't stand by and watch Tilda die.
He asked me to understand.
Last life, I went soft, and I said yes.
But after the wedding, Samuel used his health as an excuse and refused, no matter what, to go to work.
He lay around at home all day on his phone, playing games.
He didn't lift a finger with the housework.
The moment I said a word about it, he played the patient card.
"I only have one kidney. I'm more fragile than other people!"
"The doctor said it himself—I can't do heavy work! I can't overexert myself!"
"Mavis Gilbert, do you really resent seeing me doing okay?"
Even Samuel's mother jabbed a finger in my face and screamed at me.
"You were the one clawing to marry my son! Did he force you?"
"My son's been sleeping with you for seven years—if it weren't for him, who would want you?"
"You married into the Sullivan family, so you'll wait on my son properly!"
So I worked by day and did the housework by night.
Samuel and I never had a child, our whole lives.
Because Samuel said his kidneys were damaged, and he couldn't perform in that department.
The bitterness ate at me, and the exhaustion piled on.
Just past forty, I dropped dead at my desk.
I hadn't been gone long when Samuel and Tilda registered their marriage.
He moved her into my house.
They took my death compensation and lived it up, free and easy.
Thinking back over everything from that life.
And looking now at the Samuel kneeling in front of me.
I gave a cold laugh. "Samuel, you're nothing now but a useless man with one kidney."
"Why on earth should I marry you?"
Samuel froze, staring at me blankly.
Tilda Fox rushed over, grabbing my hand to smooth things over.
"Mavis, how can you talk about Sam that way!"
"He gave me his kidney because he couldn't bear to watch me die of my illness!"
"You can't look down on him just because he did something good!"
