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.
