The Seventh Heartbeat

Bryan and I spent five years together.

No matter how bitter or exhausting it got, I never uttered a single complaint and stayed by his side through thick and thin.

He knew all too well how deeply I loved him, and he refused to believe that I would ever leave him.

I knew his love ran deep in his bones, too.

If he knew everything, he would have never allowed me to trade my life for his.

To save him, I had to steel my heart and pretend I had had enough.

I had to act like I was tired of the endless hardship that I faced by his side. I had to pretend like I was feeling hopeless with him.

I told him I was sick of the cheap medicine and only a plain toast a day.

Such a life was making me frustrated.

I told him I had had enough of it all.

I still remember the day when I told him.

The boy who had always been strong and never even flinched from hardship or bloodshed shed tears for the first time.

He signed the divorce papers as he sobbed.

I wrote my name on the organ donation agreement.

After the surgery, I left Bryan for good with shame in my heart.

I returned to the rented apartment where we had lived together for five years.

I quietly waited for death, which I would embrace with my willing hands.

I never imagined I would see Bryan ever again.

He was drifting further away. He had become who he had always dreamed of being.

But I could never go back.

As I watched his confident demeanor on the news, a pang of bitterness suddenly welled up inside me.

Then, I felt a touch of relief.

The ringing of my phone interrupted my memories.

I answered it. It was from the bank.

They informed me that the previous transfer of $200,000 was a clerical error.

I must return the funds immediately, or else I would face criminal charges.

I hung up and smiled bitterly. I was at a loss for words.

After a moment’s silence, I called my best friend and asked her to find me a job to repay the debt.

Bryan hated me that much. He knew that someone like me could only pay him back in installments.

He would gladly accept it and watch me work myself to death to pay it off.

Due to my heart condition, my body felt weak. This made it impossible for me to work many jobs.

I could only survive on occasional odd jobs.

My best friend, Beryl Smith, knew of my health issues and found me a job as a banquet waitress.

The work was relatively easy. I could earn $500 a day.

As I slipped into the waitress uniform, put on my mask, and served drinks at the banquet, I saw Bryan once more.

He wore an expensive suit and was standing tall with an imposing presence.

Jade glided in an elegant evening gown and radiated grace and charm.

Arm in arm, the two looked like the perfect couple. They were adored and admired by everyone around them.

I glanced at them once and immediately lowered my head.

Bryan, who was holding a glass of wine, did not recognize me. Just as I was about to turn away, Jade spoke up.

“What kind of service is this? Didn’t you see that you spilled wine on my gown?”

I paused mid-step. Only then did I notice a patch of dampness on the hem of Jade’s gown.

I said nothing, simply lowered my head, and dabbed at the stain on Jade’s gown with a tissue.

Bryan watched me. His brow slightly furrowed, and his lips pressed into a straight line.

Malice shone in Jade’s eyes as she suddenly kicked me hard in the chest.

A sharp pain shot through me as I collapsed to the floor. I could not stifle my cry of agony.

“Don’t you dare touch me with those filthy hands! Security, throw her out!”

Jade’s face was twisted in rage, yet the smugness in her smirk was impossible to hide.

Though only my eyes were visible, in that fleeting moment of eye contact, Bryan recognized me.

His lips moved as if to speak. A flicker of pain shone in his eyes. It was then replaced by nothing but mockery.

He raised a hand to halt the security guard, then ripped off my mask.

“Aria! Won’t you even say hello to your ex-husband?”