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Chapter 2

Author: Buff Aurora
In the days that followed, Geston practically made the hospital his second home.

Using her post-transplant weakness as an excuse, Daphne Primrose summoned him for everything, big and small. Today, it was pain at the incision site. Tomorrow, it was insomnia.

Geston became her on-call personal attendant, circling around her twenty-four hours a day.

When he did come home, it was only in passing—to grab a few changes of clothes before rushing back out.

Meanwhile, Daphne, like a queen who had finally won her war, began provoking me with increasing boldness. She sent me intimate photos of herself with Geston. In one picture, he was bending his head to peel an apple for her, his gaze tender in a way I had never once seen.

She sent me screenshots of his social media posts.

That post was visible to everyone—except me.

[My wife is so understanding, more and more like the lady of the house.]

The photo beneath it, however, showed his hand clasping Daphne's.

She even called me late at night. On the other end of the line came her syrupy voice and Geston's impatient murmurs of protest.

"Vi, I'm sorry to bother you so late. I'm just a little scared. Could you ask Geston to stay with me a bit longer?"

I listened to the performance without a ripple of emotion.

I simply saved every recording and screenshot in silence.

Then, alone, I went to the hospital and scheduled an abortion.

Lying on the cold operating table, the sensation of the instruments entering my body was sharp and unmistakable.

I didn't cry. I didn't shed a single tear. I only stared at the harsh white light on the ceiling and told myself over and over, 'Violet, this is what you owe yourself. From now on, you live for yourself.'

When the surgery ended, I dragged my weakened body back to a place that could no longer be called home.

I began slowly packing my things.

Everything I had once treasured—everything connected to him—now looked like nothing but a joke. I boxed them up one by one, ready to throw them away.

One week after Daphne's successful surgery, Geston suddenly called me. His voice sounded utterly exhausted.

"Vi, are you free today? Could you go to the hospital and take care of Daphne for me?"

I held the phone, almost thinking I had misheard.

"There's an emergency meeting at the company. I really can't leave. Daphne is alone at the hospital, and I'm worried."

He wanted me to care for the woman who had taken my kidney source and torn my family apart?

'Geston—just how confident did you have to be to make such a ridiculous request?'

I was silent for a moment.

Then I answered softly with a single word. "Okay."

He seemed to exhale in relief, thanked me repeatedly, and reminded me of things like "what Daphne likes to eat" and "she still can't get out of bed," before hurriedly hanging up.

I set the phone down and looked at my pale reflection in the mirror, tugging my lips into a cold smile.

Of course, I would go. How could I miss such a splendid performance without seeing it with my own eyes?

Carrying the fruit basket I had prepared long ago, I walked into Daphne's VIP ward. She was leaning against the bed, playing on her phone. When she saw me, surprise flickered across her face before it turned into the smug smile of a victor.

"Well, if it isn't Vi. What brings you here?"

"Geston asked me to come," I said lightly as I placed the basket on the bedside table.

Her smile widened. "He really knows how understanding you are."

She looked me up and down, her eyes full of display and disdain.

"See, Vi? I told you—Geston cares about me the most. For me, he was even willing to take the kidney that was supposed to save your life."

I said nothing. I only pulled out a chair and sat beside her bed.

My calm reaction seemed to dissatisfy her. She decided to add fuel to the fire.

"Oh, right. I almost forgot to tell you something."

She leaned closer, lowered her voice, and spoke with a venomous, triumphant tone, "Actually, my kidney wasn't in serious trouble at all. I just wanted to see whether, in Geston's heart, you mattered more… or I did.

"And look—he chose me without a second thought."
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