Chapter 2

Three days after I signed the organ donation agreement, Rebecca landed a major job.

A new shopping mall in the city was holding its grand opening and needed dancers for the event. The performance paid 5,000 dollars, which was about half a month's income from her studio.

"What are you wearing?" I asked.

Rebecca was doing her makeup in front of the mirror, and her hand paused. "Just a regular dance costume."

"How regular?"

"It just… shows a little midriff." She applied a bright red lipstick that looked almost jarring on her. "That's what's popular right now."

My heart clenched painfully, but it wasn't a result of my heart condition this time.

"Don't go," I said. "I can apply for medical assistance—"

"And how many months of medication do you think that would cover?" she cut in as she zipped up the costume.

I'd seen it before. The entire back was bare except for a few thin straps. Rebecca used to hate outfits like these and refused to wear them herself.

Before leaving, she crouched in front of my wheelchair and held my face between her hands.

"William."

Her eyes were bright, and something about them made me uneasy. "I'll bring you a cake from that bakery on the west side of town when I come home. You love their cake, don't you?"

I parted my lips.

I wanted to tell her not to go. I wanted to tell her I didn't even like cake that much anymore.

Before I could, her phone rang. The event staff was calling to tell her to hurry.

Rebecca kissed my forehead, grabbed her bag, and ran out the door. The click of her heels faded down the hallway, each step seeming to hammer my chest.

She didn't come home that night, and her phone was turned off.

Later, someone posted in the dance studio's group chat that the performance had been a huge success. The investors were so pleased that they'd taken all the dancers out to dinner afterward.

There was a photo attached.

Rebecca was sitting near the head of the table with a sweet smile on her face. Beside her was a balding man, who had one arm draped across the back of her chair.

I stared at the picture until my phone screen dimmed.

She finally came home at 3:00 am. She reeked of alcohol, her makeup was smeared, and her hair was a mess.

I wheeled myself toward her. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

She pushed past me and rushed into the bathroom to puke.

I remained outside in my wheelchair, listening to the violent retching on the other side of the door while my fingers dug into the armrests.

Splinters from the worn wood pierced my palms, but I barely noticed the pain.

When Rebecca finally came out, her eyes were swollen and red, and there were red marks along her neck.

"Let's just sleep," she said.

Then, she collapsed onto the couch without even changing her clothes.

I went into the bedroom, brought back a blanket, and draped it over her, only for Rebecca to seize my hand with startling strength.

"William." Her voice came out hoarse. "I wish we had money. One million dollars… That would be enough to buy your life back.."

My body stiffened.

Moonlight filtered through the window and fell across her face. Her eyes remained closed, but tears slipped from the corners and disappeared into her hair.

At that moment, I knew something between us had broken.