hadn’t been so desperate to find a donor back then, Lucas wouldn’t even
be alive today. But it’s ironic, isn’t it? The heart you saved now beats
for someone else.”
The world seemed to freeze.
I could hear the kettle boiling, my own breath breaking into ragged
pieces.
The spoon slipped from my grasp and clattered onto the table, the sound
ringing sharp in the silence.
Lucas frowned, his voice hard. “That’s enough. Stop acting out.”
“Acting out?” I laughed, though my voice trembled. “I spent five years
taking care of you—begging doctors, begging for a match, staying up
through endless nights to feed you medicine. And the first thing you did
when you got better was bring another woman into our home.”
Nova tilted her head, utterly unfazed.
“Women who feel too much are sick,” she said lazily. “You should be glad
you still have time to take care of him. Without you, his heart might
not even be beating right now.”
“Enough!”
My voice cracked, tears shining in my eyes.
“Stop talking about that heart! I already gave it back to him. But my
own heart—”
I pressed a trembling hand to my chest—
“—died a long time ago.”
The air froze.
Lucas’s face turned pale, his fists tightening at his sides, yet he said
nothing.
I turned away and went into the kitchen to turn off the faucet.
Only then did I realize the water had overflowed, running down the white
tiles and pooling at my feet.
Suddenly, a hand reached from behind me and twisted the valve shut.
Lucas’s voice brushed against my ear, low and tight with restraint.
“Are you really going to leave?”
I didn’t look back.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I already gave you my heart. What else is there
for me to stay for?”
He was silent for a few seconds.
When he finally spoke, his tone was a bitter blend of laughter and sigh.
“You’re too naive, love. Without me, you’re nothing.”
I turned to face him.
“Then after I’m gone,” I said, meeting his gaze, “let’s see whose heart
stops first.”
I picked up my bag and walked to the door.
The moment it closed behind me, a gust of wind swept in, brushing
against my face.
And right then, I understood—
I had once saved his heart, but now, I was finally learning to save my
own.
Nova’s laughter still lingered in the air, sharp and thin, pricking at
my eardrums like needles.
I stood there, barely breathing.
That dress.
That color.
That fragment of a past he had once buried—
now draped across another woman’s body.