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I Gave Him My Kidney, He Gave Her My Children. Novel Cover

I Gave Him My Kidney, He Gave Her My Children.

"Get this useless woman out of my sight," Liam sneered, his arm wrapped tightly around Maya's waist. I stood in the foyer of the home I built, clutching my left side where an eight-inch surgical incision still seeped blood into my bandages. Just seven days ago, I lay on a cold operating table, surrendering my kidney to save his life from terminal organ failure. But while I remained in a postoperative coma, his first love strutted into the ward, handed the chief surgeon a stack of cash, and forged her name on my donor certificate. Now, my five-year-old twins clung to Maya's skirt, glaring at me like I was a beggar. They dragged my suitcase down the stairs and kicked it onto the driveway. My fingers curled around the crumpled, blood-stained original consent form hidden inside my pocket.
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Chapter 1

Pushing the heavy oak door open took the last ounce of my strength. I pressed my palm hard against my abdomen. The fresh surgical incision tore, sending a blinding white flash of agony through my nerves. Warm dampness soaked through my oversized sweater. Blood.

I stumbled into the foyer. Voices drifted from the living room. Soft murmurs. A woman's gentle coaxing.

"Just one more bite, Liam," Maya murmured.

I leaned against the archway. My husband rested against the plush velvet cushions, his face gaunt and pale from his recent transplant surgery. Maya sat perched on the edge of the coffee table, blowing on a spoonful of steaming broth before lifting it to his lips.

My five-year-old twins, Leo and Mia, rested their heads on Maya's lap.

"Auntie Maya makes the best soup," Leo announced.

Mia nodded, her pigtails bobbing. "Better than Mommy's."

I gripped the doorframe. My knuckles turned stark white.

Liam swallowed the broth. His gaze shifted, landing on me.

The tender expression on his face vanished. His jaw locked. He snatched the porcelain bowl from Maya's hands and hurled it.

*Crash.*

The bowl shattered against the edge of the marble tea table. Hot liquid splattered across the rug.

"You have the nerve to show your face here?" Liam's voice cracked like a whip.

I flinched, my free hand instinctively hovering over the bleeding wound hidden beneath my clothes. "Liam—"

"Shut up!" he roared, gripping the armrest to hoist himself forward. "Where were you, Clara? Where the hell were you?"

Maya quickly placed a hand on his chest. "Liam, please. Your stitches. Don't agitate yourself."

He shoved her hand away gently, keeping his furious eyes pinned on me. "I was dying on that operating table. My body was failing. And my wife? My wife packed her bags and vanished!"

I tried to speak. The metallic tang of blood flooded the back of my throat.

"I didn't vanish," I managed to whisper.

"Liar!" Liam spat. "The doctors paged you for hours. Maya was the one who stayed. Maya was the one who found the anonymous donor at the last second!"

A bitter, twisted laugh scraped its way out of my mouth. An anonymous donor. Is that what Maya told him?

I stared at the spot where my liver now beat inside his chest. The organ keeping him alive.

"You think this is funny?" Liam demanded.

"No," I answered flatly. "I find it fascinating."

Maya stood up, smoothing her skirt. "Clara, you shouldn't be here. You abandoned him when he needed you most. You lost the right to walk into this house."

"This is my house," I fired back.

Leo and Mia scrambled up from the floor. They darted behind Maya, burying their faces in her skirt.

"Go away!" Leo shouted, pointing a tiny finger at me. "You're a bad woman!"

"We want Auntie Maya to be our mommy!" Mia cried, hiding in the fabric.

The physical pain in my abdomen paled in comparison to the sudden, hollow drop in my chest. My own children. The babies I carried.

I took a step forward. "Leo. Mia. Come here."

"Don't you dare go near them," Liam warned.

My spine began to curve under the sheer weight of the physical agony. The stitches had definitely popped. Wet heat spread rapidly down my stomach, soaking into my waistband.

I forced myself to stand straight. Emuscle screamed in protest. I swallowed the thick, copper-tasting saliva pooling in my mouth.

"I am your mother," I told the twins, keeping my tone deadpan.

"Not anymore," Liam sneered. "A real mother doesn't run away. A real wife doesn't leave her husband to die."

"I gave you—" I started, the words fighting to claw their way out.

Maya interrupted, her voice raising a fraction. "You gave him nothing, Clara! You left a note and disappeared. I have the papers to prove it."

She gestured to a folder sitting on the mantelpiece.

I studied her. The imposter. She had forged my exit, orchestrated my absence, and claimed the glory of saving his life.

"What note?" I asked, my voice terrifyingly calm.

Maya stepped forward, chin raised. "The one where you said you couldn't handle the pressure. The one where you filed for divorce so you wouldn't be saddled with his medical debt."

"Show it to me," I challenged.

Liam scoffed. "I burned it. I didn't want your pathetic excuses contaminating my home."

"Convenient," I whispered.

"What did you say?" Liam narrowed his eyes.

"I said it's incredibly convenient that the only proof of my betrayal turned to ash." I locked eyes with Maya. "Tell me, Maya. Who was this anonymous donor? What hospital did they come from?"

Maya's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "That's confidential medical information. The donor wished to remain unnamed."

"Did they?" I tilted my head. "Or did someone steal the credit?"

"Enough!" Liam slammed his fist against the armrest. "Stop attacking her! Maya saved my life. Maya stayed up for three nights straight holding my hand while you were out god-knows-where doing god-knows-what!"

My knees threatened to buckle. The blood loss was making me dizzy. The room spun, the edges of my vision darkening.

"I was in surgery," I stated, the truth finally slipping past my lips.

Liam let out a harsh bark of laughter. "Surgery? For what? A sudden conscience implant?"

"Ask Maya," I said, my voice dropping to a harsh rasp.

Maya shook her head, her eyes wide with manufactured pity. "Liam, she's delusional. She's trying to make excuses for leaving you."

"Mommy is a liar!" Leo chimed in from behind Maya.

"A big liar!" Mia echoed.

I looked at my children. Their hostile little faces. They looked at me as if I were a monster.

"Do you even know what a liar is, Leo?" I asked softly.

"Someone who leaves Daddy when he's sick!" he yelled back.

I closed my eyes. The pain in my gut was nothing compared to this. I had laid on an operating table, fully prepared to not wake up, so their father could live to see them grow up.

And this was my reward.

"Look at me, Liam," I demanded.

"I'd rather look at the wall," he retorted.

I reached for the hem of my sweater. If he saw the bandages. The fresh blood.

Maya stepped right into my line of sight. "Don't traumatize the children, Clara. Haven't you done enough?"

"Get out of my way, Maya."

"Or what?" she challenged in a hushed whisper, stepping dangerously close. "You'll bleed out on the Persian rug?"

Only I heard that. Liam was too far back.

I shoved her shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to move her.

Maya threw herself backward, landing hard on the marble floor with a dramatic gasp.

"Auntie Maya!" Leo screamed.

Liam struggled to stand. "Are you insane? Assaulting her in front of the kids?"

When I opened my eyes, Maya was smirking. A tiny, victorious curl of her lips that only I could see.

"Get out," Liam ordered.

"I need to pack my things," I replied, swaying slightly.

"I already had the maids pack your trash," Liam said. "It's in the garage. Along with the divorce papers. Sign them and leave."

"You can't throw me out," I argued, gripping the wall to stay upright.

"Watch me," Liam shot back.

He grabbed his phone from the side table and dialed a number.

"Front gate? Send two guards up to the main house immediately."

He dropped the phone.

"Liam, please," Maya cooed, stroking his hair. "Don't let her upset you. Your heart rate is climbing."

"She disgusts me," Liam muttered, refusing to look at me anymore.

I stood there, bleeding out in my own foyer, watching another woman play house with my family.

The heavy thud of combat boots echoed on the front porch. Two burly security guards stepped into the entryway, their expressions blank.

"Mr. Monroe?" the taller guard asked.

Liam raised a trembling hand and aimed his index finger directly at the front door.

"Security, throw this irrelevant woman out."

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