Chapter 2

Noah remarked, "Oh. That's not even enough to cover my mom's monthly meds."

As soon as Noah finished, Carlos slammed on the brakes and whipped his head around. "Meds? What kind of meds?"

I reached over and gently tucked Noah's wind-blown hair behind his ear, gazing out the window the whole time.

"Sit tight and fasten your seatbelt," I reminded Noah.

When we got to the VIP suite at the private hospital, Carlos lit a cigarette. I frowned, and Noah started coughing again.

Carlos stared at the cigarette for a few seconds, then put it out.

"Alright, name your price," Carlos said.

"Price for what?" I asked.

"Child support. You show up with a kid who looks like me. Aren't you after child support?"

I poured myself a glass of water. "Is that what you think, Mr. Wesley? That everyone's after your money?"

Carlos leaned forward, his voice cold. "Lydia, five years ago you fake a pregnancy to avoid donating bone marrow. Now you show up with a kid who looks like me and expect me to believe he's mine? You really think I'd buy that?"

Noah dug out his tablet from his bag and tapped away on the screen.

"Sir, your company's net profit dropped 8.3% last year compared to the year before. With numbers like that, my mom wouldn't even bother trying to get your money," Noah said.

Carlos's expression shifted. "Who taught you to say stuff like that?"

Noah turned the tablet toward him. "I found it myself. It's all right there on your company's website."

Carlos stared at Noah, then glanced over at me.

I set my glass down. "Noah's smart. He gets it from me. Is that a problem?"

Carlos stood up and walked over, his shadow looming over me.

"You were the one who signed the abortion papers," I said.

Carlos said, "Lydia, don't play the victim. Sonia's been through hell these past five years because she never got that bone marrow transplant."

I looked up at him.

"I don't know if she's in pain. But when I jumped from the fifth floor, it hurt like hell," I said.

I held out my wrist, showing him the nasty scar.

"Carlos, want to give it a try?" I challenged.

His fingers twitched, like he wanted to reach out, but he pulled back at the last second.

"You did that to yourself. If you hadn't lied..." Carlos said.

I cut him off, my voice sharp. "What exactly did I lie about?"

"You claimed you were pregnant. But the test results said otherwise..." he fired back.

The door burst open and Carlos's assistant rushed in, clearly panicked. "Mr. Wesley, Miss Hathaway fainted. She has a rare blood type and needs a transfusion right away."

The assistant froze when he saw me, and Carlos turned to look at me too. The room went dead silent.

Carlos finally spoke. "Lydia, you have the same blood type as Sonia."

"So what?" I shot back.

"Sonia needs blood," he said.

I let out a bitter laugh.

I stood up and took Noah's hand.

"Carlos, five years ago you wanted my bone marrow. Now you want my blood. What's next? My heart? My corneas?" I shot back.

His lips pressed into a thin line. "It's just a transfusion. It's not going to cost you your life."

Suddenly, Noah pulled his hand out of mine and marched right up to Carlos, his fists clenched tight.

"You can't bully my mom anymore," Noah said, his voice shaking but firm.

Carlos looked down at him, his expression unreadable.

"She owes Sonia," he said.

I owed her? Those words felt like a rusty key, twisting open the deepest cage in my memories.

Carlos and my marriage was nothing but a business arrangement. He gave me plenty of respect and material comfort, but never his heart.

I used to be so naive, thinking that if I gave my all, it would change everything.

Then, news about Sonia reached me.

Sonia came back to the country, gravely ill. For the first time, Carlos begged me, saying, "Only you can save her life."

In that moment, it finally dawned on me. All those late nights waiting for him, all the care I gave, were nothing but my own wishful thinking.

For one's heart to die, it didn't take some dramatic betrayal. Sometimes, a single request was enough.

And now, here he was again, asking for my blood, and for the same person.

From bone marrow to blood, to him, I was nothing more than a walking donor, a medical resource meant for Sonia.

What used to be a desperate plea had now become a debt I supposedly owed him, as if it was my obligation all along.

I looked at Carlos. "Carlos, I've stared death in the face. I know how precious life is. This is the last time."

The hospital still smelled so strongly of disinfectant.

The nurse brought over a form for me to sign. I skimmed it, flipped straight to the last page, and signed my name.

When I rolled up my sleeve, the nurse drew in a sharp breath. There were so many needle marks, stretching from my wrist all the way up to my elbow.

Carlos grabbed my arm. "What's all this?"

I pulled my arm back. "They're needle marks. Never seen them?"

"You doing drugs?" he asked, his voice low.

I nearly laughed. "Mr. Wesley, you've got quite the imagination."

I told the nurse, "Just do it. My veins are pretty hard to find."

The nurse missed the vein twice, her forehead starting to sweat nervously.

Carlos growled in frustration, "Get someone else!"

I pressed the cotton swab down, steady and unfazed. "I'll do it myself."

With one swift motion, I hit the vein perfectly. Rich crimson blood surged into the bag.

I watched the deep red flow into the bag and said quietly, "Carlos, the blood that stained the ground five years ago looked just like this."

He stiffened.