She Chose Him Over My Life

My wife's first love fell seriously ill.

To save him, she gave away the kidney donor that was meant for me.

Afraid I would cause a scene at the hospital, she locked me inside our home.

Day after day, she stayed by his bedside, cooking for him, caring for him, never leaving his side.

All she left for me was a box of stale biscuits… and expired milk.

A month later, she finally opened the door.

"Have you thought it through?"

I looked at her, pale and desperate. "If I don't get that transplant, I'll die."

"Why are you talking about dying?" she snapped. "You've endured this for so long already. A little more pain won't kill you. Are you trying to scare me?"

"But Vincent is different. He's never been able to handle pain. Can't you be more understanding?"

"Understand…"

I nodded stiffly.

Then, I walked out, without looking back.

Only for her to be stabbed multiple times… yet still refuse to let go of my hand!

Getting up was a struggle. I just wanted to walk out of the bedroom and find something to drink.

It had been days since I had a single sip of warm water.

When Diana Shaw locked me in this room, she left me nothing but a jug of milk that had expired months ago.

The milk ran out long ago. With nothing else to drink, I'd been forcing myself to cup water straight from the bathroom tap.

"Get back here! Did I say you could leave?"

Diana's fury was immediate. She grabbed me by the arm and wrenched me back with all her strength.

I had no strength left in my body. A dull cramp throbbed deep in my stomach. Caught off guard, I stumbled into the corner of the desk.

"You've been sick like this for a long time, and you've been fine, haven't you? You've already held on this long. What does another month or two matter before we find a donor kidney? Why are you throwing a tantrum at me?"

The impact left my arm numb and aching. But as sharp as the pain was, it felt like it was coming from somewhere else entirely.

I slowly raised my eyes and looked at the woman I had loved for so many years.

There was a hollow in my chest.

During all those days trapped inside this room, I had never stopped asking myself the same question.

Was I really this worthless? What did I mean to Diana Shaw… what did I mean to her at all?

Diana studied my silence, her brows knitting slightly as she finally looked at me more closely.

"Nathan Cole, are you trying to threaten me by starving yourself?"

"After all these years together, you should know, I don't respond to that. I don't take that kind of thing."

I lowered my eyes.

After all those years with Diana, there were far too many things I had not known. And this was just one of them.

I swallowed. The bitterness in my throat refused to go down.

"Diana, I only want to ask you one thing."

"You locked me in here. You sealed the windows and took my phone, did you plan from the beginning to give my kidney to Vincent Ward? You didn't leave me any food or water. Did you ever think about how I was supposed to survive? Did you deliberately ignore the fact that I need dialysis? I–"

"That's enough! Why do you have so much to say?"

Diana waved her hand impatiently, then bent down and shoved the trash can in front of me.

"What's this? Huh? Look at it. You cleaned it out completely, and now you're accusing me of trying to starve you?"

My eyes stung. I raised my thin hand and wiped my face roughly.

Then I turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

"Where are you going? I'm not finished talking!"

Diana followed right behind me, but as soon as she stepped out, she froze.

In the living room, on the massage chair I had bought for myself…

A man was lying there.