Lahat ng Kabanata ng My Love; You Were Never Meant To Be A Substitute : Kabanata 31 - Kabanata 40

The nurse’s voice was very calm and almost soothing as she spoke softly beside me. “We’re all done here, ma’am. Now we’ll transfer you to the procedure room immediately.” Her words lingered in the air like a promise. it was Heavy. I swallowed hard, feeling my chest tighten with something I couldn’t name. Maybe fear. Maybe hope, or maybe disbelief. My heart pounded so loudly it was like a drum inside my head, drowning out every other sound. I gave a small nod, though I doubted she even saw it. Then it came again, the feeling of movement. The bed beneath me jolted slightly and began to roll forward. A gentle push, then another as it keeps moving. The wheels hummed against the polished floor, their rhythm steady, carrying me away. Away to where everything would change. I couldn’t see where I was going. I couldn’t even guess. All I had were fragments, the cool air brushing over my skin, the faint sterile smell of antiseptic growing sharper, biting almost, as we moved farther down

Nina's He reached for his tablet, checking something before he spoke again. “Nina…” He hesitated this time, choosing his words with care. “Your eyes look good like said earlier. The transplant went well. But…” The word made my stomach knot. “But what?” He crouched beside me so we were eye level, and his tone was calm and reassuring. “There’s a little swelling around your optic nerves,” he explained gently. “It’s from the stress you’ve been through and your pregnancy. It’s not dangerous, but I don’t want to take chances.” I swallowed hard, my fingers curling into the sheets. “What does that mean? Am I… going to lose…” “No.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt. “You’re not going to lose your sight. But I need to watch you closely. Both you and the baby.” The baby. My hand moved to my stomach on instinct, cradling the life inside me. For weeks, I’d fought to survive even for this child. For us and now, hearing him say that… relief washed over me, warm and heavy. William

Nina's POV The hours bled into each other, each one was only heavier than the last. Machines kept humming somewhere down the corridor, and every beep sounded like a countdown I couldn’t just control. The search for a donor started the moment William walked out. I heard the nurses whispering, footsteps rushing, doors opening and closing like the world was moving too fast without me. But every time I asked, their faces told me what their words didn’t. Nothing yet. There was no match. I just lay there in the recovery bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind clawing for air. My baby was fighting for his life, and all I could do was wait, Just Wait and hope. Wait and break apart a little more with every second. Then the door opened. William walked in, I noticed his scrubs changed, his mask hanging loose around his neck. His expression gave nothing away. He was just calm and controlled. But his eyes, there was something there, a shadow that hadn’t been there before. I pushed myself u

Nina’s POV (My hardest decision, Becoming Sarah) See, I never thought life could be packed into papers, stamps, and whispered instructions, but that’s exactly what the next few days became. William moved with a calm certainty, as if he had already mapped every step long before I agreed. I watched him handle documents, make phone calls in low tones, and slide envelopes across polished hospital desks with the kind of authority no one questioned. He made It look easy. But It wasn’t. Look, for me, each decision felt like shedding another piece of who I had been. Nina Grayson, once a wife of a billionaire ,the woman who had survived cages, scars, and shadows, was dissolving into someone else. Into Sarah. “My sister’s name will protect you,” William told me one evening, sitting across from my bed as I cradled my son. His voice was steady, but his eyes… his eyes carried a weight I didn’t dare question. “Sarah was strong. She knew how to disappear. That’s what you and your baby nee

Sarah Fenric's The company called in again this time and gave another offer. The nights after that very meeting were the longest I’d had. I barely slept. Every sound felt loud, the baby’s small breaths, the city far below, the rustle of paper as I redrew the same corner a dozen times. I wanted the design to be perfect. Not for praise this time again . For proof that I could build a life out of ash. The firm gave me a small team this time rather than just selling them the design: two junior designers who moved like they had nothing to lose and one tired carpenter who looked like he’d seen better days with them. We worked in a cramped room with a single lamp hanging from the top, the lights cuts through the dark in the room at evenings. I handed out tasks to my small team, corrected some lines and sketches. The building we were given, was an old hotel turned apartments, it had no sparkle left. The owner had stopped painting the façade ever since. Tenants left when leases ended. Even