I was Derek Welch's "fragile glass wife"—the one he cradled in his palms like something precious. I was also his family's death warrant.
To pay for my treatment, Derek had sold one of his kidneys.
On New Year's Eve, the house sat cold and empty, thick with the smell of medicine. My mother-in-law dabbed at her tears and asked:
"Alex, tell me honestly—when spring comes, will you still be here?"
Derek lost it. He smashed the medicine pot against the wall, pulled me into his arms, and swore no one would take me from him.
But on the fifth day of the new year—the day to welcome the God of Wealth—I made the mistake of mentioning that my wound had split open again.
Derek's face twisted into something I'd never seen before. He sneered and hurled a basin of ice water over me.
"You're overacting, Alex. You think I don't know you're running an insurance scam?"
"Trying to help your deadbeat brother turn his life around? You'd really jinx yourself like that?"
"You want to die so bad? Fine. I'll help you. If you're not dead by tonight, I'll be disappointed."
He dumped every last pill of my clotting medication into the toilet and flushed. Then he gathered his family and left for their New Year's feast.
I lay in the freezing pool of water, watching fresh blood snake across the floor like a red ribbon.
Derek, you think I'm the one scamming the insurance. You don't know the beneficiary was changed to your name months ago.
1.
Cold crept up my spine. Searing pain tore through my body until I could barely breathe.
The wound ripping open nearly made me black out, but I didn't dare close my eyes. If I closed them, I might never open them again.
Outside the door, the Welch family's laughter rang bright and cheerful.
My mother-in-law's voice carried through: "We should've gone out ages ago. Spending New Year's Eve babysitting a sick woman—what terrible luck."
"Mom, keep it down." Derek's voice was light. Amused.
"What's there to worry about? If something happens to her, we'll get a nice payout."
The laughter faded. The security door slammed shut.
I stared at the ceiling. Tears and ice water trickled into my ears.
Three years ago, when I married Derek, he'd spun me in circles in the falling snow. He said, Alex, I'll treat you right for the rest of our lives.
Two years ago, I was diagnosed with a clotting disorder. Even a small cut could kill me. Derek held me and sobbed, swearing he'd sell a kidney if that's what it took to save me.
A year ago, he really did lose that kidney.
Everyone called him a devoted husband. I believed it too. I worked myself to the bone saving money, trying to support this family. I even took out a massive insurance policy and named him the beneficiary.
I thought that way, even if I died, he wouldn't be left with nothing.
But that basin of ice water shattered every dream I'd ever had.
"You're overacting, Alex. You think I don't know you're running an insurance scam?"
"Trying to help your deadbeat brother turn his life around? You'd really jinx yourself like that?"
His vicious sneer still echoed in my skull.
I thought back to New Year's Eve—my mother-in-law asking if I'd live to see spring, Derek smashing that medicine pot, swearing no one could take me away.
It was never devotion. He was just afraid I'd die at the wrong time and void the payout.
My phone sat on the coffee table. Less than two meters away.
But my fingers were frozen stiff. I couldn't lift them.
My vision blurred. My heartbeat slowed to something terrifying.
Through the haze, I saw my dead father standing in the doorway. He cursed me for being worthless—for throwing my life away on a piece of trash.
No. I can't die.
If I die, Derek and his family take the payout and live like kings.
I bit through my lip, using the pain to stay conscious. I dug my fingers into the cracks between the tiles. My nails bent and broke. The agony shot straight to my heart, so bad I wanted to vomit.
But I kept crawling. Inch by inch.
