Six months into our marriage, a cargo truck slammed into me. I survived the impact, but I lost my uterus.
Joshua Gilbert, a man who had always dreamed of a large family, held my hand as I drifted in and out of consciousness. He swore he would rather die than leave me.
My father, Marcus Lambert—known throughout the medical world as "Capital City's Number One Scalpel"—promised that with him there, I was safe.
I thanked the heavens. I rejoiced that I had married a good man. After years of wandering, lost from my family as a child, I finally had love. Even the agony of my crushed body faded under their care.
Or so I thought.
The illusion shattered while I lay on a gurney outside the operating room, waiting for surgery. Through the thin gap in the door, voices drifted out.
"Dad, Nina is finally saved." Joshua's voice was crisp, devoid of the trembling grief he'd shown me moments ago. "I checked Serena's premarital medical records. Her heart is perfect. It's a match for Nina."
"Is it safe?"
"Completely. Their blood types match, and with a healthy heart, Nina's follow-up treatment actually has a chance. I'm signing the consent form now."
The scratch of a pen against paper. Then my father's voice, hoarse with suppressed excitement.
"Joshua, make sure the truck driver is handled properly. No loose ends."
"Don't worry, Dad. It's a shame for you, though," Joshua added. "Stuck watching over a barren Serena for the rest of your life."
A long, familiar sigh followed.
"It's fine. As long as Nina lives, that's enough. I can't be with her openly, so I'll protect her this way."
"Stop talking," my father snapped, though his tone was light. "We didn't find Serena just to waste time. This is the day we've been waiting for. Let's start the surgery."
Icy tears slid into the open wounds on my face, stinging like acid.
This love... it was filthy. I didn't want it.
——
As the anesthesia took hold, my eyes fluttered open one last time. Through a haze, I watched my biological father raise the scalpel over my chest. Beside me lay Nina Lambert, the adopted daughter they cherished while I was lost to the world.
"Nina," Marcus whispered tenderly. "Dad kept his promise. Sleep now. When you wake, you'll be whole again."
Darkness swallowed me, accompanied by the phantom sensation of a blade slicing through my chest.
When I woke, I was in a sterile hospital ward.
My first breath was a mistake.
Agony exploded in my chest, drenching me in cold sweat. It felt as though my heart was tearing away from my ribs, dragging my organs with it. A chill ran down my spine, paralyzing me.
I clenched my teeth and tried to inhale again, but an invisible boulder crushed my chest. The air was trapped, refusing to enter or leave.
My vision blurred. My face flushed purple. Just as darkness threatened to claim me, the monitors screamed. Red lights flashed, accompanied by a piercing alarm.
Nurses swarmed in, followed by my parents and my husband.
"Move! Let me through!"
Dad shoved a nurse aside, his face a mask of frantic concern. He began CPR.
He was the expert, after all. Under his hands, the breath trapped in my lungs finally released. Every subsequent inhale felt like swallowing broken glass—a tearing, heart-rending pain—but the suffocation, the terror of imminent death, subsided.
"I'm sorry, Serena." A voice murmured near the bed. "I didn't take good care of you. I shouldn't have let you deliver those documents..."
Warm fingers wrapped around my cold hand. Joshua leaned close, his breath brushing my ear.
"Serena," he whispered, his tone dripping with fabricated devotion. "Dad found complications during the surgery. The accident didn't just take your uterus... it damaged your heart."
He squeezed my hand, eyes glistening with fake tears.
"But don't worry. I love you. I won't give up on you. Dad is the best cardiologist in the city—he'll fix this. Seeing you suffer just now... it nearly killed me."
