He Took My Heart for His First Love, Then Lost His Mind Over Me

The softness in Edwin’s eyes vanished, replaced by the familiar, sharp panic he only ever felt for her. He looked at me, then at the door, his body already pivoting toward the exit.

The regret he had started to show was swallowed whole by his obsession with Rose.

“I... I have to go,” he stammered, already halfway to the door. “She’s delicate, Victoria. She can’t handle stress as well as you can. I’ll be back.”

He didn't wait for my response. He turned and ran, his footsteps fading down the hall as he rushed to her side, leaving me alone in the cold, white room.

I let out a long, quiet breath and looked at the ceiling. The monitor beside me beeped steadily—the sound of a heart that was finally, blissfully, almost finished with its duty.

Go to her, Edwin, I thought, a ghost of a smile touching my lips. Keep her alive. Because the sooner you save her, the sooner I get to go home.

Less than an hour later, the door creaked open again. It wasn't the heavy, purposeful stride of Edwin. These footsteps were light, clicking sharply against the linoleum.

Rose walked in. She didn't look like someone who had just "collapsed from trauma." Her cheeks were flushed with a healthy anger, and her eyes were sharp as flint. She slammed the door behind her, the sound jarring my injured shoulder.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" she spat, hovering over my bed. The "delicate" mask had completely slipped. "Taking a bullet for him... did you think that would make him love you? Did you think a little blood would make him forget me?"

I looked at her, my expression flat. "I don't think about his love at all, Rose."

"Liar!" she hissed, leaning down until her face was inches from mine. "Listen to me, Victoria. You can give him your heart, your life, or your soul—it won't matter. Edwin loves me. He only stayed with you because you were a convenient tool. Even after the surgery, when my chest would be beating with your heart, he’ll be kissing me while you would be rotting in the ground. You’re nothing but a donor. A spare part."

I felt a strange sense of pity for her. She was fighting so hard for a man I was literally dying to leave.

"Is that all?" I asked quietly. "If you're finished, I'd like to rest. I need to be in good shape for the transplant."

My indifference acted like gasoline on fire. Rose’s face contorted with rage. "How dare you look at me like that! Like I’m beneath you!"

In a fit of blind jealousy, she reached out and grabbed my wounded shoulder, her manicured nails digging directly into the bandaged entry point of the bullet hole.

"Don't you act superior to me!" she screamed, twisting her hand.

A white-hot flash of agony exploded through my body. I gasped, my vision swimming as the stitches tore. The warm sensation of fresh blood immediately began to soak through the hospital gown, spreading in a terrifying, vivid bloom of scarlet.

"Stop," I choked out, the room spinning.

"I'll show you who he chooses!" Rose cried, her voice rising to a hysterical pitch. She shoved me back against the pillows, her hand now covered in my blood.

BANG.

The door flew open with such force that it hit the wall.

Edwin stood on the threshold, his face frozen in a mask of horror. He didn't see a delicate girl who had fainted from trauma. He saw Rose—his "angel"—standing over my shaking, bleeding form with crimson-stained hands.

"Rose?" Edwin’s voice was a low, dangerous growl.

The blood continued to pour from my shoulder, dripping onto the white sheets, and for the first time, Edwin didn't run to her. He didn't even look at her. His eyes were locked on the sight of my life force draining away because of the woman he claimed to protect.

I looked past him, my consciousness fading, and saw the system notification glowing one last time.

Warning: Physical Integrity Compromised.

Final Wish: Impending.