Benedict smiled warmly. "She's a very kind girl."

"She told me her mother died of kidney disease years ago. She said she couldn't bear to watch anyone else go through that kind of pain."

"The moment she found out she was a match for you, she volunteered."

A lie. Every word of it.

But when he talked about her—that softness in his eyes, the way his gaze turned tender—that was real.

I knew that look. I knew it intimately.

It was the same look he'd had when he'd traveled a thousand miles just to see me for one day.

The same look when I'd been sick, and he'd stayed awake at my bedside for three nights straight.

The same look on our wedding day, when he'd dropped to one knee and made his vows.

He used to look at me that way.

When I didn't respond, Benedict's voice softened further. "Don't be scared, sweetheart."

"I'll perform the surgery myself."

"As long as I'm here, nothing bad will happen to you."

Hearing those words, I couldn't help but remember what he'd said years ago, the day he'd decided to go into medicine:

"Fern Fox, I swear—I'm going to become the best doctor I can be. I'll keep you safe and healthy for the rest of your life."

What a joke.

The man who'd chosen medicine to protect me—

And now, for the sake of another woman, he was going to carve out my kidney with his own hands.

I looked at Benedict, my voice calm.

"Could I meet this kind stranger? She's saving my life, after all. I'd like to thank her properly."

Benedict had a reputation in our circles—the devoted husband, the one-woman man.

Young, successful, handsome. Women threw themselves at him constantly. Even the hospital director's daughter had made her interest painfully clear, publicly declaring that if Benedict wanted her, the entire hospital could bear his name.

But he never wavered. He'd nearly gotten himself blacklisted from the medical community for turning her down.

And through it all, he'd held my hands and said: "I could lose everything else in this world. But never you."

So what kind of woman could make a man like that—a man who treated loyalty like religion—change?

Benedict hesitated for just a moment before smiling.

"She left the hospital right after signing the donation consent forms. After your surgery tomorrow, I'll take you to thank her properly."

He didn't want me to see her. That much was obvious.

Which only made me more curious.

I didn't push. Just nodded obediently.