My Final Act of Love
After five years of marriage, the doctor told me I was pregnant. It was something I had waited for so long.
Yet, along with that good news came a nightmare.
My medical tests showed that I had cancer, and it had already spread. The doctor gave me less than a month to live.
I froze, gripping the report so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tears streamed down my face as I thought about how my unborn child would never get to feel a mother's embrace.
My grief was interrupted by the ping of an incoming text message.
It was from Mom.
[Since you're so selfish and refuse to donate a kidney to save Nattie's life, you should divorce Davon. Let him marry Nattie instead. At least that way, you can fulfill her dying wish.]
My tears fell harder. It was not that I refused to donate a kidney to Natalie Rivera, my sister, who was in the final stages of kidney disease. In truth, I only had one kidney left. Five years ago, I had already given one to Dad.
Now, with my life counting down to its final days, I decided that I would donate my remaining kidney to Natalie. I would also let my husband, Davon Parker, go with her.
Before I went into surgery, my parents praised me for finally being thoughtful, saying I had finally learned to care about my sister. They said that once the surgery was over, the whole family would go on vacation together.
Davon even said he was proud that I was no longer selfish and promised he would make it up to me in the future.
None of them knew I did not have a future.
After the surgery, what would be pushed out of the operating room would be a cold, lifeless body.