Chapter 5

And now, Maeve was the one saying, "At your age, honestly—who else would want you if you leave me?"

My face went dark with hurt.

Johnny held Maeve's hand, his face full of self-reproach.

Watching the two of them so close, my heart died completely. I clenched my jaw and turned to leave—to get out of that suffocating place.

But Maeve called out to me. Her eyes darted away, as if she couldn't quite meet my gaze.

I stopped, waiting to hear what she had to say.

She hesitated for a long moment, then finally spoke. "Ed, could you donate one of your kidneys to Johnny?"

At her words, my heart flatlined.

I let out a bitter, helpless laugh. I should have known better. Even now, after everything, I was still foolish enough to hope.

When she saw that I wasn't agreeing right away—the way I used to, always saying yes to whatever she asked—Maeve grew anxious. "Johnny saved my life once. Now, he's sick. You should help him—for my sake. If it weren't for Johnny, I'd be dead."

I blinked in confusion.

Maeve and I had been together for fifteen years. I had no idea when Johnny had ever saved her life.

Seeing my puzzled look, Maeve grew annoyed.

But she still explained, impatiently, "Three months ago, I was out and got kidnapped by human traffickers. Johnny risked his life to rescue me."

I was completely stunned. Because the person who had rescued her three months ago was me—not Johnny.

That day, Maeve and I had argued. She stormed out of the house in a rage.

I was worried she might be in danger, so I chased after her—only to see her get knocked unconscious and dragged into a van.

I followed the kidnappers all the way to an abandoned factory. After calling the police, I couldn't bear to leave her in there alone. Before the cops arrived, I tried to get inside to stay with her—or better yet, get her out myself.

But there were too many traffickers.

I didn't care if I got hurt, but I was terrified that if I acted recklessly, I'd put Maeve in even greater danger.

Then I noticed the loose soil on the ground. An idea came to me.

I had no tools, so I dug a hole with my bare hands. My fingers were torn raw—down to the bone—but I didn't stop.

Just as I lifted Maeve onto my back, the traffickers spotted us. They beat me within an inch of my life.

Just when I thought it was over, the police arrived and saved us both.

I saw with my own eyes that Maeve was unharmed. Only then did I let myself pass out.

Back then, Maeve and I were already in a rough patch. I didn't want her to feel weighed down by a debt of gratitude toward me. So I never said a word.

But that didn't mean someone else got to steal that credit.

I looked at Maeve and said, "Maeve, it was me who saved you. Not Johnny."

At my words, a flash of anger sparked in her eyes. She cut me off, snapping, "Ed, I didn't think you could sink so low!

"When I woke up, Johnny was the one by my side. Meanwhile, you were off traveling. Tell me—how could you have saved me while you were out of town? If it wasn't Johnny, then who was it?"

I was speechless.

Back then, my hands had been scraped down to the bone, and my body was covered in bruises from shielding Maeve from the traffickers' blows. I hadn't wanted her to worry, so I told her I'd been on a trip.

And now that lie had become my "alibi."

How ridiculous. But I didn't have the energy to argue anymore.

Maeve stared at me coldly. "I'm asking you—will you donate a kidney to Johnny or not?"

I shook my head. "That was your life he supposedly saved. What does that have to do with me? We're getting divorced."

Maeve's face flushed red with rage. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face.

"You heartless bastard! Don't you dare come crying to me later!"