After His Mistress Tried to Kill Me

I sat alone at a small, candlelit table in a West Village restaurant. It was my twenty-eighth birthday. Rain lashed against the large glass windows, blurring the city lights into streaks of yellow and red. The waiter had lit a single candle on my table twenty minutes ago. It was already melting down into a sad puddle of wax.

I looked at my phone. The screen lit up with a new message. It was from Colby.

*Can't make it, Evie. Thalia called crying. She feels faint. I need to go to her. Happy birthday. I'll make it up to you tomorrow.*

I stared at the glowing words. My chest felt tight, like someone was squeezing my lungs. Eight years. I had loved Colby Matthews for eight years. He booked this reservation weeks ago. He promised me tonight would just be us. But the moment his ex-girlfriend snapped her fingers, I stopped existing.

Thalia was always fainting. She was always crying. And Colby was always running to her.

I didn't type back. I didn't say it was okay, like I usually did. I just raised my hand and caught the waiter’s eye.

"Check, please," I said quietly.

"But you haven't ordered your entrée, miss," he replied, looking at the empty seat across from me with pity.

"I lost my appetite," I said. I put a fifty-dollar bill on the table and walked out into the storm.

The rain was freezing. It soaked through my thin coat instantly. I didn't care. I walked fast, my boots splashing in the puddles. I headed toward the crosswalk near Mount Sinai Hospital to catch a cab. The street was dark and almost completely empty.

The pedestrian light turned green. A little white walking man glowed in the dark. I stepped off the curb and onto the slick asphalt.

Then, I heard the sudden, violent roar of an engine.

I turned my head. Blinding headlights swept through the rain, coming right at me. The car was moving way too fast. It didn't even slow down for the red light. In that split second, the streetlights illuminated the front of the car.

It was a black SUV. Thalia’s SUV.

I froze. I didn't even have time to scream.

The heavy metal bumper slammed into my side. The impact was deafening. I was thrown into the air like a ragdoll. I crashed hard onto the wet road. Pain exploded in my ribs and my head. My vision instantly blurred into dark, fuzzy shapes.

I heard tires screeching as the SUV sped away into the night.

A yellow cab swerved and slammed on its brakes near me. The driver jumped out, his boots splashing loudly.

"Hey! Oh my god! Call 911!" he yelled into the rain.

I tried to breathe, but my chest felt crushed. The freezing rain washed over my face. Then, the darkness swallowed me whole.

*Beep. Beep. Beep.*

I woke up to the steady, annoying sound of a heart monitor. The sharp smell of bleach and rubbing alcohol burned my nose. My whole body throbbed with a dull, heavy ache. I slowly blinked my eyes open. Harsh fluorescent lights blinded me for a second. I looked down and saw a thick IV needle taped to the back of my bruised hand.

I was in a hospital bed.

The door to my private room was cracked open just a few inches. Voices drifted in from the hallway. One of them was low, calm, and completely unhurried.

It was Colby.

"Dr. Hale," Colby said. "I need to know if it's a possibility."

I lay perfectly still. My breath hitched.

"Mr. Matthews," a deeper, older voice replied. It had to be my surgeon. "Your partner just came out of emergency surgery. She suffered severe blunt force trauma. This conversation is highly inappropriate."

"Thalia’s condition is critical," Colby pressed. His tone was firm and transactional. He sounded like he was negotiating a tech merger, not talking about my life. "She needs a kidney transplant immediately. Evangeline only has one kidney left. But I know her blood type is a perfect match. Could her remaining kidney be viable for Thalia?"

The words hung in the sterile air. They hit me harder than the SUV had.

*Could her remaining kidney be viable for Thalia?*

"I am not discussing harvesting organs from a living, recovering trauma patient," Dr. Hale said, his voice rising with sharp disbelief. "Especially not her only remaining kidney. That would be a literal death sentence for her, Mr. Matthews."

"I just need to know the medical odds," Colby argued stubbornly. "Thalia doesn't have time. I can fly in the best specialists."

I lay there in the cold, stiff sheets. I stared at the white ceiling tiles. My hands didn't shake. My eyes didn't water. The tears simply weren't there.

When I was nineteen, I secretly went under the knife. I gave Colby my right kidney to save his life. He never knew. He thought Thalia's mother was the anonymous donor. He spent years worshipping Thalia's family for a sacrifice they never made, while treating me like a placeholder.

And now? Now I was lying in a hospital bed, broken from a hit-and-run caused by Thalia herself. And the man I loved was standing outside my door, calmly trying to carve out my last remaining organ to save her.

I closed my eyes. I felt a strange, quiet shift inside my chest. It wasn't rage. It wasn't even heartbreak. It was just... cold.

The heavy, suffocating chain of love that had tied me to Colby Matthews for eight long years finally snapped. The girl who would have died for him was gone.

I was done.