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My Husband Gave Her My Lungs, So I Gave Him My Goodbye
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I waited four years for a pair of donor lungs. Then my perfect match finally arrived. I thought I was saved. I was wrong. My husband, Lawrence Santiago, gave my donor lungs to Lorinne, my adopted cousin. “My wife understands. Lorinne needed them more, and I made the decision for her.” After that, Lorinne moved into my bedroom to recover. She called Lawrence “hubby,” sat beside him everywhere, and acted like she'd already taken my place. So I exposed them. Lawrence stormed into my ICU room. “Delete everything and apologize to Lorinne. You’ve humiliated me enough!” My own parents sided with him. That night, my mother told the hospital to discharge me. “You're being jealous and selfish,” she said. “Stop punishing everyone because Lorinne survived.” Then my body gave out. I collapsed right in front of them. “She’s doing it again,” my mom said coldly. “Get her inside.” But this time, I wasn't pretending. My lungs stopped. My pulse disappeared. The doctors shocked me once. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Then someone quietly announced my death. “Stella Santiago. Female. Twenty-eight years old. Time of death, 10:06 AM.”
Chapters (6)
第1章
My husband gave away the donor lungs that were supposed to save me.
The moment the surgery was announced as a success, the hospital lobby turned into chaos. Reporters crowded around Lawrence, cameras flashing while everyone shouted questions at him.
“Don, your wife has been waiting for a lung transplant for four years. Why wasn’t the donor lung given to her?”
Lawrence calmly cut him off. “Stella understands how this works. Lorinne needed it more, and she agreed with my decision.”
I almost laughed.
Agreed?
Five months ago, he sat beside my hospital bed and told me the donor lungs weren't a match.
“You'll have to wait a little longer,” he'd said. “Don't lose hope, wife. We'll find another donor.”
So I waited.
I waited while my lungs got weaker. I waited through the coughing, the hospital visits, the oxygen tanks, the endless pills, and all those nights when I couldn't sleep because I was terrified I wouldn't wake up the next morning.
And now I knew where those lungs had gone.
Lorinne stood beside my husband, looking weak and beautiful while she held his hand.
“He saved my life,” she cried. “He stayed with me through everything. He even took me home himself and made sure I had the best doctors and nurses taking care of me. I don't know what I would've done without him.”
Yeah.
He took her home.
He'd even moved me out of our bedroom because Lorinne needed a quiet place to recover.
“You can stay with your mom for a while,” he'd told me. “It's better for her recovery.”
And I agreed.
Because I was his wife.
Because I was stupid enough to believe that if I kept giving, eventually someone would give something back.
But I should have known better.
Lawrence Santiago wasn't just my husband.
He was the mafia don of the Santiago Legacy, one of the most powerful families in the city. He was a billionaire who could make people disappear with a phone call and make entire companies change hands before breakfast.
And Lorinne was the orphaned cousin he'd sworn to protect.
Her parents had been killed years ago in an ambush carried out during a war between rival mafia families.
And my mother? My mother had always treated Lorinne like the daughter she actually wanted.
She'd defended her, spoiled her, and forgiven every mistake she made.
I watched them standing together on that stage, hugging and smiling while the cameras went crazy.
They looked like a perfect family.
And I stood there alone, feeling a sharp ache spread through my chest. I reached for my medication and tried to step away.
A reporter suddenly grabbed my arm. “Donna, please join us!”
Before I could say no, he pulled me toward the stage.
“Anything you wanna say, Donna?”
Something inside me went cold. Me? Yes.
I took the microphone from him. “I don't want to get in the way of their perfect little family anymore. I quit.”
I dropped the microphone and turned around.
Lawrence grabbed my wrist.
Hard.
“Stella, what are you doing?” he hissed. “Lorinne needs to recover. She's still fragile, and the media is watching everything. Do you understand what you're doing right now? If this stresses her out and affects her condition, can you really live with that?”
I stared at him.
Hurt her?
What about me?
Had he ever worried about what stress was doing to my lungs?
My mother rushed over.
“There are cameras everywhere,” she whispered angrily. “At least pretend everything's fine. Do you want everyone talking about our family? Think about Lawrence. Think about the Santiago Legacy. Stop making a scene.”
Not once did she ask if I was okay.
Not once did Lawrence look at my face.
They pulled me back toward the podium and kept telling me to apologize.
To Lorinne.
Of course.
The three of them stood together, holding hands while I stood a few steps away.
I felt like some pathetic outsider who'd wandered into her own family's celebration.
How much more humiliating could this get?
Something in me finally broke.
I grabbed the framed photo a reporter had just handed Lawrence. It showed him and Lorinne smiling after her surgery.
I threw it onto the floor and stomped on it.
The glass shattered.
Then I knocked Lawrence's award off the table. It hit the floor with a loud crash.
Lawrence stared at me like I was disgusting.
My mother shook her head. “I raised such an ungrateful monster!”
I laughed.
“Ungrateful? When my lungs got worse, I could barely breathe. You told me it wasn't a big deal. You told me to go to the hospital by myself, get my oxygen checked, and come home.”
I looked straight at Lawrence.
“You remember that, don't you?”
His expression tightened.
“But when Lorinne started having trouble breathing, you called every specialist you knew. You flew doctors in from other countries. You stayed up all night making calls. You used the entire power of the Santiago Legacy to find her a donor.”
I looked around at all of them.
“How is that fair?”
Nobody answered.
“I waited four years for a lung transplant.” My throat tightened. “Four years! You kept telling me to be patient. To stay strong. To understand that other people needed help too.”
I wiped my tears, but more came.
“And I did understand. I understood every single time you told me to wait. I just never realized what you actually meant.”
Lawrence stepped toward me.
“Stella, you're upset. Don't do this here.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I'm done pretending.”
My voice cracked.
“I didn't know that being patient meant watching you give my chance to breathe to her!”
The entire lobby fell silent.
The cameras were still going off around me, flash after flash, but the whole lobby had gone strangely quiet.
Lawrence moved toward me. “Stella, enough. Come with me and we'll talk somewhere private.”
“Private?” I laughed, but it sounded awful. My face was already covered in tears, and I hadn't even noticed when I'd started crying. “Four years ago, when I was in the ER barely able to breathe, shaking so badly I couldn't even hold my phone, where were you?” I looked at my parents. “Did either of you come?”
Nobody said a word.
“The doctors wanted to admit me,” I continued. “They said my lungs were getting worse and I needed to stay under observation. But you told me there weren't enough beds.” I looked at my father. “You told me someone else needed it more, so I should go home and wait.”
Then my eyes moved to Lorinne.
“Now I understand.” My voice came out quieter. “That whole thing about there being no beds... You were saving one for her, weren't you?”
My father rushed over and caught my wrist. “Stella, stop this! You've said enough.”
I yanked my hand away. “Don't touch me.”
He stared at me, and I stared right back.
“And you want me to stop?” My voice shook. “You're my father. I'm your daughter. Your own blood.” I pointed toward Lawrence. “You knew my lungs wouldn't last another year. You knew how bad my condition was, and you still agreed to give my matching donor lungs to her.”
My throat tightened. “Why?!”
Nobody answered.
I looked between my parents and then at Lorinne. “Is she secretly your daughter or something? Did you both forget to tell me that I'm the one who was adopted?”
My mother slapped me before I could finish.
The sound cracked through the lobby.
My cheek burned.
“You've lost your mind,” she snapped. “Apologize to Lorinne. Right now!”
第2章
I tasted blood. “Apologize?” A broken laugh slipped out of me. “I've spent so much time in the ICU that I've lost count. I've been critical. I've spent nights gasping for air and wondering if I'd even wake up.”
I turned toward Lawrence. “And you know what your people offered me?”
He didn't answer.
“A private room. Better equipment. More privacy. They said they could arrange it because they knew I was the wife of the head of the Santiago Legacy.” My eyes burned. “But you refused.”
Lawrence's expression didn't change.
“You said we couldn't use the family's power just because I was your wife. You said I had to follow the same rules as everyone else.” I let out a shaky breath. “So why didn't those rules apply to her?”
Nobody moved.
“She wasn't even as critical as I was.” I looked at Lorinne. “But you moved the entire Santiago Legacy for her.”
My gaze went from Lawrence to my mother, then my father.
All three of them were standing closer to her than they were to me.
I couldn't understand it. I really couldn't.
“You're the people who are supposed to protect me,” I whispered. “You have money. Power. Connections. The whole Santiago Legacy at your fingertips.” My voice cracked. “I was dying, and you still made me step aside.”
Silence.
Not one of them defended me.
Not one of them even looked sorry.
They just stared at me as if I was the one ruining everything.
Fine.
I wiped my face. “Then make her your real daughter.” I looked at my parents. “If she's the one you love so much, replace me properly. Give her my place too.”
I turned to leave.
I didn't get far.
My chest suddenly tightened, and I stopped. I couldn't pull in enough air. My lungs felt like they were collapsing from the inside, and every breath became shorter than the last. My knees buckled beneath me.
I coughed, and something warm filled my mouth.
Blood.
I tried to breathe again, but nothing came.
The floor rushed toward me.
Then everything went black.
...
When I opened my eyes, my whole body felt heavy. My chest hurt every time I breathed, and even the smallest movement made my lungs feel raw.
I was behind a glass wall in the ICU, in isolation. I couldn't move much, but I could hear voices outside.
Dr. Samuel was there. He'd worked with my family for years, and his voice was low as he spoke to someone in the hallway. “This episode was caused by her worsening respiratory failure. Her lung condition has progressed badly. Even if we stay optimistic, she may have less than one month.”
One month.
My fingers curled weakly against the sheets.
Samuel continued, “If she has another major episode like this, we might not be able to stabilize her.”
After everything I'd endured, after spending years waiting for a transplant, I had less than one month left?
The ICU doors suddenly opened.
Lawrence walked in first.
His eyes landed on me for barely a second.
Then Lorinne appeared behind him.
And everything changed.
The hardness disappeared from his face.
He walked straight to her, touched her shoulder, and lowered his voice. “You're awake.”
Then he looked at me again. “I took care of the reporters. They won't bother you anymore.”
He sounded almost annoyed, as if the cameras and reporters had been my biggest problem.
“You caused quite a scene out there, Stella,” he said. “But it's over now. You're safe.”
Safe.
I stared at him from behind the glass.
Was I?
Lawrence turned back to Lorinne. “Don't worry about anything. I'll handle the rest. Just focus on getting better.”
Lorinne held her bouquet against her chest, crying so hard her shoulders shook. “I’m sorry, Stella. I never knew this would happen. If I’d known the lungs were meant for you, I never would've agreed to the surgery. I can give them back. I’ll find the doctor and have them remove them. I’ll give you my chance to live.”
“No.”
Lawrence's voice stopped her immediately. He turned toward her, and the cold expression he'd been wearing disappeared. He gave her that soft smile I hadn't seen directed at me in years and gently brushed the tears from her cheek. “Don't say that again, Lorinne. The transplant was successful, and your body accepted the lungs. You're finally recovering.”
Then he looked at me, and all that softness disappeared.
“And you need to stop this. You caused a scene in front of everyone. You humiliated me, and you put Lorinne in an awful position. She's already been through surgery, and now she's crying because of you. Can't you control yourself for once?”
For once.
Those two words hurt more than they should have.
My mother stepped forward. “Stella, she's your cousin, and she's family. You need to accept what's happened. Lorinne didn't steal anything from you. She's part of this family now, and you need to stop treating her like an enemy.”
“Accept it?” My voice came out barely above a whisper. “I've spent my whole life accepting things.” I looked at her. “Accept being ignored. Accept being left behind. Accept being told to wait. Accept being the one who gets less because somebody else supposedly needs more. And now I'm supposed to accept that the lungs I waited years for were given to her?”
Lawrence's jaw clenched. “Enough, Stella!”
“No, I'm not done.”
“Don't speak to Lorinne that way,” he said, his voice hardening. “She's fragile right now. She just survived major surgery. If you have any decency left, you'll stop making her feel guilty for being alive.”
I laughed, but tears were already sliding down my face. “Decency? I've spent twenty-eight years being decent!”
“Sister, please,” Lorinne shook her head quickly. “If I'd known those lungs were yours, I would've refused them. I can wait. I can find another donor. You can have mine if that's what you need!”
第3章
Lawrence immediately placed a hand on her shoulder. “Lorinne, stop. You don't have to give anything back. You didn't do anything wrong.”
I stared at his hand.
There it was again. That tenderness. That protection. Everything I'd begged for from him, he gave her without hesitation.
I looked at him. “Then what am I supposed to wait for?”
He frowned.
“Another transplant?” I laughed bitterly. “Another miracle?” My breathing became uneven. “Or are you waiting for me to die so you won't have to feel guilty about this?”
His eyes hardened. “Don't you dare say that.” He stepped closer. “I'm your husband, Stella. You don't get to speak to me as if I'm some stranger who wanted you dead. You're alive because people took care of you, and you need to respect that.”
“Alive?” I stared at him. “I'm barely surviving, Lawrence.”
My mother suddenly spoke, “Stella, enough. You need to understand the situation. We've spent our whole lives putting other people first. Lorinne needed those lungs, and we made the decision we thought was necessary.”
I shook my head. “You always say that.” I looked at my parents. “Put others first. Be understanding. Be patient. But somehow, I'm always the one who has to sacrifice.”
My eyes moved back to Lawrence. “My life. My chance. My lungs.” I laughed weakly. “And you all stood there smiling.”
My mother's face slowly changed. The color drained from it, and her lips started trembling. “You... you really think we don't care about you?”
My father stepped forward, his face red with anger. “How dare you speak to your mother that way? After everything she's done for you?”
I looked at him.
Everything?
What had they actually done for me?
Before I could answer, Lorinne suddenly dropped to her knees. “I'll give them back!” She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. “I'll find the doctors. I'll tell them to take the lungs out. Stella can have them. I don't deserve them. I don't deserve to be alive after taking what was supposed to save her.”
She tried to crawl toward the door, but my mother rushed after her and pulled her into a tight hug. “Lorinne, stop. Don't you ever say that again.”
Then she looked at me, her eyes cold. “I never thought you'd become this cruel, Stella. She just had a transplant, and you're telling her to have her lungs removed? Do you even hear yourself? You're asking us to kill her.”
My lips trembled. “I just want to live too.” The words came out so quietly that I almost didn't recognize my own voice. “Is that really so wrong?”
Nobody answered.
My mother held Lorinne closer. “Listen carefully, Stella. Lorinne is my daughter too and I'm going to take care of her until she's completely recovered. When you're calm and ready to apologize, then we'll talk.”
She took Lorinne's hand and walked out of the room.
My father stood there for a moment, staring at me with disappointment.
Lawrence did the same.
For one stupid second, I hoped he'd stay.
He didn't.
They followed my mother and Lorinne out of the room.Through the ICU window, I watched them in the hallway.
Mom was gently wiping Lorinne's tears while Lawrence kept one hand on her back, holding her close as if she might break. Dad stood beside them, bending down to say something that made Lorinne cry even harder.
They looked like one happy family.
A perfect little family that somehow didn't have me in it.
I sank back against my pillow and stared at the ceiling, listening to my own breathing through the oxygen mask. Every breath felt heavy. My lungs were getting weaker, and I knew my body couldn't keep fighting forever.
Was dying really the worst thing that could happen to me?
Maybe not.
Dr. Samuel stayed quiet for a long time before finally pulling a chair closer to my bed. He glanced toward the door, then lowered his voice. “Stella, there's something you need to know. A donor lung became available last week, and the match was excellent for you. You had a real chance.”
My heart jumped.
Then his expression changed.
“But Lawrence Santiago and your parents signed the paperwork to redirect the lungs to another patient again.”
I stared at him.
For a second, I honestly thought I'd heard him wrong. “There was a matching donor?” My voice came out weak. “You're telling me there were lungs that could've saved me, and they gave them to someone else?”
Dr. Samuel looked down at his hands. “Yes. The other patient needed a transplant too, but your condition was worse. Everyone on the transplant team knew you were deteriorating faster.”
I swallowed painfully. “So they knew.”
He nodded.
“They knew I was running out of time, and they still gave my lungs away.”
Dr. Samuel didn't answer.
Of course.
Lawrence and my parents wanted to prove they weren't giving me special treatment. They wanted everyone to believe they were fair and reasonable.
Even if being fair meant watching their own daughter and wife die.
I forced myself to smile beneath the oxygen mask. “Thank you for telling me, Dr. Samuel.”
“Stella, please don't give up yet. I've already contacted other transplant centers, and I'll keep pushing for you. There are still possibilities.”
“No.” I shook my head weakly. “Please don't.”
I took a shaky breath before continuing. “Bring me a pen and some paper. I want to write my will. And I want the paperwork prepared to legally cut ties with my husband and my parents. I don't want anything connecting me to them anymore.”
His eyes widened. “You don't have to decide all of that while you're this sick.”
“I do.” My voice cracked, but I didn't take it back. “If they've already chosen to live without me, then I should at least have the right to leave them behind.”
Dr. Samuel stayed silent.
“And bring me the organ donation forms too,” I added. “If I don't get a lung transplant in time, I want whatever can still be used from my body to go to someone who needs it.”
He stared at me.
“I want my death to help somebody. At least then, it won't be completely pointless.”
He eventually nodded.
He didn't try to argue again.
Lawrence never came back.
Neither did Mom or Dad.
But Lorinne did.
She started sending me videos every day.
The first one showed my bedroom.
Or what used to be my bedroom.
My books were packed into boxes. My clothes were gone from the closet, and workers were repainting the walls.
Lorinne turned the camera toward herself and smiled. “Stella, Lawrence said this room has better airflow, so he thinks it'll be better for my recovery. He wants me to sleep here for a while.”
Mom laughed softly somewhere behind the camera. “Of course, sweetheart. You need the best room in the house. You've been through so much.”
I closed my eyes.
Did they even remember this was my room?
Another video came that night.
Lorinne was curled up under my blanket when Lawrence walked in. He looked exhausted, but the second he saw her, his whole face softened.
“Did you take your medicine, baby?” he asked.
Lorinne smiled. “I did. You remind me every single time, hubby.”
Hubby?
第4章
Lawrence sat beside her, and she immediately moved closer. A moment later, she was sitting on his lap as if that had always been her place.
“Careful,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Your stitches are still healing. Don't move around too much.”
Dad chuckled behind the camera. “You two are getting close.”
Mom laughed too. “Lorinne finally has someone who really takes care of her.”
No one corrected them.
No one said, “He's Stella's husband.”
No one seemed to remember that I was lying in an ICU bed, fighting to breathe while my husband was holding another woman.
Then another video arrived.
Lorinne was holding my old music box.
It was the little wooden one Mom had given me when I was eight. She bought it after I won my first school singing competition, and I used to wind it every night before bed. The paint was chipped around the edges, but I'd kept it with me through every house I'd lived in.
Lorinne turned it over in her hands and giggled. “This thing is so old. Why did Stella even keep it?”
Lawrence barely glanced at it. “If you don't like it, throw it away.”
Dad reached for the music box. “Here. I'll take care of it.”
He dropped it straight into a trash bag.
I watched that part three times.
Then I turned off my phone and stared at the ceiling.
That stupid little music box had stayed with me when everyone else left.
And now even that was gone.
Then the messages started coming.
“Stella, I don’t think your mom ever really liked you. She seems so much happier now. Honestly, I feel bad for you.”
Another came a few minutes later.
“Your dad says you’ve always been too sensitive. Maybe you should stop making everything about yourself.”
Then another.
“You should apologize to Lawrence properly. He works so hard for this family, and you embarrassed him in front of everyone.”
I stared at the screen until my eyes started hurting. My own family was talking about me as if I were some spoiled stranger who had ruined their perfect little life.
Then Lorinne sent another message.
“Lawrence took me to the balcony tonight. He said I deserve some peace after everything I’ve survived.”
There was a photo attached. She was resting against Lawrence’s chest while his arms were wrapped around her. My parents were sitting nearby, smiling at them.
They looked happy. Comfortable. Like this was exactly how things were supposed to be.
Then she sent another clip.
This time, it was from my bedroom.
I watched only long enough to understand what was happening before I threw the phone onto the mattress. Lorinne was in my room with Lawrence, and the sounds between them made it painfully obvious what they were doing.
My husband was in our bedroom with my cousin.
My heart monitor immediately started beeping faster. I covered my mouth and tried to breathe through the oxygen mask, but my chest felt tighter with every breath.
How much more was I supposed to take?
Was I really expected to lie here quietly while they erased me from my own life?
My hands were shaking when I reached for my phone again. I opened my social media account and changed my name to Stella Waiting for a Lung.
Then I uploaded everything.
My diagnosis.
My medical records.
Proof that a matching pair of donor lungs had been redirected.
The messages.
The videos.
The screenshots.
I didn’t hide their names.
Then I started typing.
“There was a matching donor. The lungs could have saved me, but they were given to someone else. My husband approved it. My mother signed the paperwork, and my father supported the decision. I was told to understand.”
I stopped for a moment, my fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Then I typed again.
“What kind of family decides their biological daughter matters less than the orphan cousin they brought into the family and expected me to treat as a sister? And now that same cousin has taken my husband while I’m lying in an ICU bed fighting for my life.”
I read it twice before pressing post.
I didn’t know what would happen after that.
...
Three hours later, my ICU door slammed open.
Lawrence walked in first. His hair was messy, his suit was slightly disordered, and his face was tight with anger. My mother and father followed behind him.
“Stella!” His voice was low, but I could hear the fury underneath it. “What the hell did you post? Do you have any idea what you’ve started?”
Before I could answer, he snatched my phone from my hand.
“Delete it,” he ordered. “Right now. Take everything down before this gets any worse.”
The screen was filled with notifications. Thousands of shares. Tens of thousands of comments. My mother looked pale while Dad kept pacing near the door.
Lawrence turned toward me. “People are already trying to find Lorinne. Someone went to the orphanage where she grew up. She just went through major surgery, Stella. She can’t deal with this kind of pressure.”
I stared at him. I wasn’t even angry anymore.
“What about me?”
He went quiet.
“I’m lying in an ICU bed, Lawrence. Do you think I can handle getting videos from her every day? Videos of you two in my bedroom? Videos of my things being packed away? Of you touching her while I’m fighting to breathe?”
“She was trying to show you that she cares,” he snapped.
I gave him a weak laugh. “Cares? What exactly is she caring about? Is she waiting for me to die so she can finally have everything? My room, my family, and my husband?”
“Enough.”
“No. I want you to answer me.” My voice shook, but I forced myself to keep going. “Am I supposed to disappear quietly so everyone can pretend this was always meant to happen?”
“Watch what you say.”
Before I could respond, Lorinne appeared behind them. Her eyes were red, and she leaned against Mom as if she could barely stand.
“Lawrence,” she whispered, touching his arm, “please don’t be angry with her. She’s sick. Maybe she didn’t mean all of this.”
His expression changed immediately.
“Lorinne, you shouldn’t be here. You need to rest.”
“I was worried about you.”
He reached up and gently moved her hair away from her face. “I’m fine. Go back to your room. I’ll take care of everything.”
I watched them, and that tiny gesture hurt more than his shouting ever could.
Mom finally stepped forward. “Stella, you’re not thinking clearly. Those posts are damaging the hospital, our family, and everything we’ve worked for.”
“Everything you’ve worked for,” I repeated quietly.
Lawrence looked back at me. “Delete the post and make a public apology. Tell everyone you were emotional and exaggerated what happened. End this before it gets worse.”
“And if I don’t?”
His face went cold. “Then I’ll make sure no hospital in this city accepts you. You’re going to learn that there are consequences for attacking my family.”
“As of today, you’re being discharged. This hospital won’t continue accommodating a patient who’s causing this kind of public disruption.” My mom interrupt.
Dr. Samuel rushed through the door.
“Mrs. Marcel, she can’t be discharged. Her condition is unstable. She needs continuous monitoring and oxygen support.”
Mom didn’t even look at me.
“Then transfer that brat somewhere else!”
第5章
Lawrence bent closer to my bed. “Delete the post, Stella. Then make a public apology. Tell everyone you weren't thinking clearly and that you exaggerated everything. Protect Lorinne before this gets any worse. This is your last chance to fix what you've done.”
Protect Lorinne.
That was all he cared about.
“Do whatever you want.”
I didn't have the strength to fight him anymore.
Lorinne gently tugged on his sleeve. “Lawrence, please. Let's just go. I don't want you getting more stressed because of me. She needs to calm down too.”
He turned toward her immediately. “Okay. You're right. Come on. You need to rest. I'll handle everything else.”
Of course he would.
He always handled everything for her.
Mom stopped at the doorway and looked back at me. For a second, I thought she might finally say something kind.
Instead, she sighed. “Stella, don't sit there acting like we're heartless. You hurt Lorinne first. You made her feel unwanted, and now you're acting like you're the only victim here.”
The door closed behind them, leaving me alone with Dr. Samuel. He remained beside my bed, staring at the door for several seconds before finally looking back at me.
“I can arrange a transfer to another hospital,” he said quietly. “There's a center in another city that's willing to review your case. We can still try.”
I stared at the ceiling.
“No need.”
“Stella…”
“Thank you for everything, Dr. Samuel.” My voice shook. “But I'm tired.”
And I really was.
I was tired of begging, tired of waiting, and tired of hoping Lawrence would remember that I was his wife or that my parents would remember I was their daughter.
I didn't want to fight for a place in anyone's heart anymore.
...
The next morning, I signed my discharge papers myself.
The bill was sitting on the table.
$49,000.
I stared at the amount for a long time.
Mom had really cut off my medical funding.
I transferred almost all of my remaining savings and signed a promissory note for the balance. By the time I finished, I barely had anything left.
Then I did something I'd once sworn I'd never do.
I called Callum Monticello. The mafia don of the West.
His rival.
The man Lawrence trusted least.
The phone rang twice before he answered. “What do you want?”
His voice was sharp and annoyed. “Why are you calling me, Stella? I thought you couldn't stand me.”
I gripped the edge of the table. My chest hurt just from sitting upright.
“Please... I... I need your help.”
Silence followed.
I swallowed hard. “I'm not anyone's wife anymore. And I'm not anyone's daughter either.”
Still nothing.
“I’m dying, Callum.”
His breathing changed.
When he finally spoke, his voice was completely different. “Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
“I'll come get you.”
The call ended.
I sat there staring at my phone. I never thought I'd be the one calling Lawrence's enemy for help.
But what choice did I have?
An hour later, I dragged my suitcase out of the inpatient wing. Every step hurt. My chest burned, and each breath felt too shallow, but nobody stopped me. No nurse came running after me. Nobody asked whether I was strong enough to leave.
I made it to the stairs before I heard my name.
“Stella!”
I stopped.
They were all there.
Mom, Dad, Lorinne, and Lawrence.
Standing together at the bottom of the stairs, they looked like a family. I felt like the stranger who'd accidentally walked into their picture.
Mom looked perfectly put together, as usual. Her makeup was flawless, her suit was pressed, and she wore the kind of worried expression she'd probably practiced before walking over.
“Stella, what are you doing?! Why did you discharge yourself? You're too weak to be walking around. Please, go back inside before something happens!”
I stepped away when she reached for me. “Dr. Marcel, just tell me why you're here.”
Her smile tightened.
“The reporters are waiting in the conference room. We need to clear up this misunderstanding before it gets worse.”
“Misunderstanding?”
I looked at her. “Which part are we clearing up? The part where everyone pretends I wasn't denied a matching lung transplant, or the part where my husband gave my lungs to his mistress?”
Dad's expression hardened. “Watch your tone, Stella.”
Lorinne stepped forward, tears already shining in her eyes. “Stella, please. I don't want us fighting anymore. If you're angry, blame me. I'll tell the reporters everything myself. I'll even leave if that's what you want. I can go back to the orphanage. I don't want to ruin your family.”
Before I could answer, Lawrence moved. He pulled her behind him, his hand settling protectively against her back.
“Stop saying things like that. You're not going anywhere, Lorinne. You've done nothing wrong.”
Then he looked at me, and all the warmth disappeared.
“You've caused enough damage, Stella. Do you understand what you've done to my family and the Santiago Legacy?”
I tightened my grip on my suitcase.
“I told the truth.”
“Truth?” His jaw clenched. “You're sick, you're emotional, and you're not thinking clearly. You exposed private matters to the entire world, and now you're pretending you're innocent!”
He stepped closer, then his hand closed around my wrist.
Hard.
Pain shot up my arm, and my chest suddenly seized.
“Let go,” I whispered.
Lawrence didn't even look at me. “We're going to the conference room. The reporters are waiting, and we're going to deal with this now.”
There was no room in his voice for an argument. It wasn't a husband talking to his wife anymore. It was the head of the Santiago Legacy giving an order.
“I can walk by myself.”
“Then walk.”
But he still didn't release my wrist. He pulled me down the hallway anyway.
Every step made my chest hurt, and the pressure around my wrist only got tighter. Nurses looked away when we passed, and a few interns whispered behind their hands, but nobody came near me.
Maybe they were afraid of him.
Who wasn't?
Behind us, I heard Lorinne's soft voice. “Lawrence, please don't be too rough with her. She's already weak.”
I glanced over my shoulder. Her face looked worried, but for just a second, I saw the corner of her lips lift.
She was smiling.
“I won't,” Lawrence replied.
He didn't loosen his grip.
The pain spread from my wrist through my arm, but somehow that wasn't even the worst part. These were the same hands that once held mine during my medical tests. The same hands that used to squeeze my fingers whenever I was scared. He used to tell me, “I'm right here, Stella. You don't have to be afraid.”
Now those hands were dragging me through a hospital hallway as if I were some problem he needed to control.
Mom and Dad followed behind us. Neither of them said anything. Neither told Lawrence to stop. They just watched, as if this was normal, as if I wasn't their daughter.
I lowered my eyes. “Fine. I'll go.”
What else could I do? Fight him? Scream? Beg my parents to help me? I'd already done all of that, and none of it had changed anything.
When we reached the conference room, Lawrence finally released me. My wrist was red where his fingers had been. I rubbed it quietly before walking inside.
第6章
Lorinne was already seated beside him.
Lawrence pulled her chair closer to his, leaving barely any space between them. He rested an arm behind her chair, and his fingers occasionally brushed her shoulder whenever she moved.
It was such a small gesture, but I knew it. He used to do that for me.
Now he did it for her.
I sat at the opposite end of the table by myself. Mom and Dad stood behind Lawrence and Lorinne. They looked serious and uncomfortable, but neither came over to sit beside me.
A reporter raised his microphone. “Don Santiago, can you explain why the donor lungs were redirected? The public wants to understand why a matching organ was given to another patient instead of your wife.”
Lawrence calmly took the microphone. He looked completely composed.
Of course he did.
He'd spent his entire life dealing with powerful people, angry rivals, and dangerous situations. A room full of reporters wasn't going to scare him.
“As the head of the Santiago Legacy, I made the decision based on the information available to me at the time,” he said. “The other patient also needed a transplant, and I believed the situation had to be handled carefully.”
The other patient.
He didn't say Lorinne's name. He didn't say mine either.
“My wife's condition was complicated,” he continued. “There were serious concerns about whether she could survive the procedure.”
Lorinne's fingers tightened around his sleeve, and Lawrence immediately looked down at her.
“Don't worry,” he murmured. “None of this is your fault. Don't let what people are saying get into your head. I'll take care of it.”
His voice was so gentle that it almost broke me.
A reporter turned toward me. “Donna, do you agree with your husband's explanation?”
The microphone was pushed close to my face.
I looked at Lawrence, then at Lorinne, and finally at my parents.
“Yes,” I said quietly.
A few reporters lowered their cameras.
I continued, “Lawrence is very responsible.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“He's always been responsible. Especially when it comes to his little mistress Lorinne.”
The room went silent.
I could hear cameras clicking, and Lawrence's jaw tightened.
“Stella.”
I didn't stop.
“You told me there were no matching lungs. You told me I'd have to keep waiting. You held my hand and told me to be patient.” My throat tightened as I forced myself to continue. “And then I found out you signed the papers that sent those lungs to her.”
Lorinne started crying.
Lawrence immediately pulled her closer.
“Enough!” he said.
I laughed weakly. “Why? Because she's crying?”
His eyes turned cold. “She's recovering from major surgery. Stop dragging her into this.”
“I was recovering too.” My voice cracked. “I've been fighting to breathe for years!”
Lawrence suddenly stood and slammed his palm against the table. “You're emotional again!”
I turned toward the cameras. “My husband chose my orphan cousin over me. My parents supported him, and everyone expected me to smile and understand.”
Lorinne covered her face. “Lawrence, please. Don't fight with her.”
He immediately turned to her. “I'm not fighting, baby. I'm right here.”
Then he looked back at me, and his expression hardened again.
“Sit down.”
My vision started to blur. I tried to breathe slowly, but my lungs wouldn't cooperate. My chest tightened until every breath became a struggle.
“Stella!” someone shouted.
I gripped the edge of the table, but my knees suddenly gave out and I hit the floor hard.
Someone screamed.
I tasted blood.
The room exploded into movement. Reporters rushed closer, cameras flashing while people shouted for them to back away.
Mom suddenly panicked. “Stop filming her! She's exaggerating this! She just wants attention!”
Dad stepped in front of the cameras.
Lawrence dropped to one knee beside me, but there was no fear on his face. Only frustration.
“Stella, stop this,” he said sharply. “Enough! Don't turn this into another performance just because you're angry.”
I stared at him through my blurred vision.
Even now, he thought I was pretending.
A weak smile touched my lips.
At least the cameras were still recording.
At least this time, everyone had seen what happened.
Dr. Samuel suddenly pushed through the crowd with the emergency team. “Move back!”
Someone pulled Lawrence away.
I heard the monitor screaming beside me. Hands pressed against my chest while the medical team worked desperately to keep me alive.
“Clear!”
My body jolted.
Everything became distant. The lights above me blurred, and the voices around me slowly faded.
“Stella Marcel Santiago, Female, twenty-eight years old. Time of death, 11:35 a.m.”