Start Over Without You

When Gavin called to tell Margaret about the wedding, she was at the hospital.

Her mother's condition had worsened. She desperately needed a kidney transplant, but the organ Margaret had arranged for her was still in Chesterio—still far from reaching her.

Margaret had originally planned to use her own identity to secure that kidney for her mother.

But on the other end of the line, Margaret's younger sister, Eloise Chapman, spoke in a calm, collected tone, "I told you, I'm climbing Mount Casendron right now. I can't make it in time. Even if I flew over now, it'd be tomorrow night before I could get there."

Margaret's hands shook as she whispered, "But Mom really can't hold on much longer. You wanted my identity, didn't you? If Mom dies, I won't have any use for your kidney anymore. Why should I give my identity to you then?"

"I can't do anything about it!" Eloise's voice grew cold as she abruptly hung up.

Margaret felt her hands grow colder too. Her mother's warmth was slowly fading away.

The doctor entered again. "Ms. Chapman, any news about the kidney?"

"Please, please save her..." Margaret's words were barely coherent as she stumbled forward, dropping to her knees. She grabbed the doctor's sleeve, begging relentlessly. "You must have other options, right? Please, save her..."

The doctor gently pushed her hand away, his voice full of regret. "Ms. Chapman, I'm sorry."

His silhouette disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

Her mother suddenly opened her clouded eyes. She grasped Margaret's hand with a strength she didn't have left.

"Margaret... you must... be happy..." Her voice was weak, each word a struggle.

Then, as she let out a soft sigh, her hand slipped from Margaret's grip, and the machines emitted a sharp, continuous beep. Margaret held her mother's hand, unable to stop the tears that flowed freely, her sobs echoing in the sterile room.

It was then that the phone rang.

The moment Margaret saw the caller ID, she instinctively answered it, almost as if it were a lifeline.

She choked out the words to Gavin.

"Gavin, what should I do?" she whispered between sobs. "My mom... she's gone..."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

Faintly, Margaret thought she heard Marjorie's voice in the background.

"Gavin! Who are you talking to?" Marjorie's voice was sweet, almost childlike.

Then there was a sharp beep—Gavin had hung up.

Margaret clutched her phone, which now felt hot to the touch, her heart sinking with each passing second.

Two minutes later, a message popped up on WhatsApp.

[Are you okay?

[I'll come as soon as I finish my meeting.]

Margaret's hands trembled as she opened the surveillance footage. There, she saw Gavin holding Marjorie in his arms, soothing her like a child. He held another woman so tenderly while telling Margaret he would hurry over once his meeting was done.

It was almost laughable.

Her mother's hand still had warmth, but it was quickly fading.

Margaret stared at her mother, and at that moment, she finally understood the meaning of her mother's last words.

To be happy, she could only be happy as Margaret. She couldn't be anyone else's substitute.