Chapter 3

Naomi watched Noah sit back down before slowly closing her eyes, a faint, contented smile gracing her lips.

Meanwhile, inside the hospital morgue, an attendant stared down at my body with a troubled frown. “It’s been two days and no one’s come to claim her. What are we supposed to do?”

Another attendant was busy packing up his gear. “What are you staring at? Finish up quickly so we can get off work.”

Together, the two men heaved my body into a body bag.

“Looking at the state she’s in... dying such a gruesome death, she probably wasn’t a good person anyway.”

“Good person, bad person—once they turn to ash, it’s all the same.”

“True. Still a shame, though. She was so young.”

Another two days passed.

Only when Noah saw that Naomi had mostly recovered did he finally remember to come looking for me.

He walked over to my recovery room, only to find it completely empty. A nurse was in the middle of changing the bedding.

“Where is the patient in this bed?”

The nurse looked up, recognizing him. “She checked out.”

Noah’s brow furrowed in immediate irritation. She just had major surgery. Instead of resting in the hospital, where on earth did she run off to?

He pulled out his phone and dialed my number, but the call refused to connect.

“Fine. Have it your way,” Noah muttered, his anger flaring. “Feel free to die out there for all I care—just don’t come begging to me.”

He stormed back into Naomi’s room.

Noticing his foul mood, Naomi spoke up gently. “Is Sophia really angry? Is she refusing to forgive you? It’s all my fault. Let me go talk to her and explain everything right away—I don’t want the two of you having a misunderstanding because of me.”

As Naomi made a move to get out of bed, Noah immediately held her back. “Why are you bothering with her? Your only priority right now is to recover properly. That way, Mom and Dad will be overjoyed when they hear the good news on the day you’re discharged.”

He scoffed. “As for Sophia, she’s not going to die. She’s already been discharged.”

Recalling how I had frantically begged him right before the surgery, a lingering bitterness gnawed at Noah’s chest. He simply couldn’t comprehend it: we were sisters, so why had I been so willing to watch Naomi die without lifting a finger?

Comparing that to how Naomi was constantly thinking of my well-being, he found me utterly lacking in comparison.

Since I wanted to play tough and insisted on leaving the hospital, he decided to let me stew in my own anger for a while. It wouldn’t be too late to fetch me when Naomi was officially discharged.

Inside the doctors’ office, his colleagues were chatting and laughing among themselves. But the moment Noah stepped through the door, everyone instantly fell silent.

Noah sensed the weird shift in energy. “What were you all talking about just now?”

No one answered.

After a long pause, one colleague stepped forward and put a friendly hand on Noah’s shoulder. “What else could we be talking about? Your deep, devoted love for your wife, of course.”

Noah’s mind flashed to how I had been forced to surrender one of my hearts. In a twisted way, he took that as proof that I truly loved him deeply. Though forced into it, I had ultimately helped him and saved a human life.

At that thought, he found it in his heart to forgive my sudden disappearance—though he was still furious that I was ignoring his calls.

Noticing the dark cloud on his face, his colleague added, “Is your wife in a bad mood?”

Noah stayed quiet.

“It’s completely normal for her to be upset right after a major operation,” his colleague advised. “Be a little more understanding. Do something nice to cheer her up.”

Listening to his colleague’s advice, the tension in Noah’s brow gradually smoothed out. He remembered how much I loved the small pastries from the bakery near our complex, and he decided to head home right after his shift.

Carrying a box of little pastries, Noah unlocked the door and stepped into our apartment.

“Honey? I bought those pastries you like.”

Silence greeted him.

Just as he set the pastry box down on the entryway table, his eyes landed on a document resting right on the center table—the divorce papers I had left behind a week ago.

The moment I first learned he was going to force me to donate my heart, I had already made up my mind to divorce him.

Noah stared at the document, his eyes widening in complete disbelief.