Chapter 4
"Did she put you up to this? What's really wrong with her? It's probably just a stunt to get my attention.
"Don't bother me with petty stuff like this anymore. Deal with it yourselves."
He said all that without even glancing at the "Critical Condition" label blaring across the form.
Just slashed his signature across it with a casual flourish.
"Justin, don't be too hard on Jeanette. She's actually pretty pathetic," Rebecca chimed in, her voice dripping with phony pity.
"Pathetic? What's pathetic about her? She's just selfish, plain and simple."
I froze, my heart ripping apart inside.
Me, selfish?
Apparently, holding on to my only kidney made me selfish.
Refusing to let an innocent child die made me selfish.
That was when it really hit home.
In his mind, I'd shrunk to nothing—utterly worthless.
Once the nurse was gone, Justin sat in silence for a beat, then wavered before standing up.
"I'll go see her. You rest up, okay?"
Panic flashed in Rebecca's eyes at that.
She grabbed his sleeve right away, whimpering weakly.
"Justin, I... my stomach's hurting a little. Could you get the doctor for me first?"
As she said it, her eyes brimmed with tears, putting on that oh-so-mature act.
"Forget it—you should go check on Jeanette. I can handle myself.
"It's my fault she's in surgery anyway. If she doesn't see you, she'll just get upset again." She hung her head, looking utterly tormented.
Justin looked at her, his face softening with heartache.
"Why are you crying? I'm staying put—right here with you.
"Besides, I'm not a doctor; what help would I be? I couldn't leave you alone like this."
He reached for a tissue and softly wiped the tears from her eyes.
The moment Rebecca realized he wasn't leaving, she lit up, hugging his arm and cooing playfully.
The scene looked so warm and cozy, like something out of a fairy tale.
But watching it play out right in front of me, all I could feel was pure revulsion.
He probably had no idea that while he was fawning over his "sister," his own wife was all alone in the operating room, just waiting to die.
After all, if the love was gone, why would he give a damn?
I tried to bolt from the spot.
But no matter how much I fought and thrashed, I couldn't shake this invisible chain holding me back.
Who'd have guessed? I couldn't get away from him when I was alive.
And now, stuck as a ghost, I was still chained to his side.
I trailed Justin back to the house.
My eyes locked on the painting sitting on his desk, and I just stared, totally zoned out for what felt like forever.
Wasn't that the one I'd trashed?
He lifted the torn canvas and studied it for ages.
A mix of complicated feelings flickered across his face.
Stuff I couldn't quite pin down—stuff I rarely saw in him.
I'd painted it myself, as our fifth anniversary gift.
A portrait of the two of us, with me beaming like the happiest woman alive.
I'd sunk a whole six months into it, even trekking out to the countryside for half that time to study under a real artist.
I'd obsessed over every detail, all to blow him away with the surprise.
But before I could hand it over, Rebecca showed up.
After finding that matching report, I'd lost it—slashed the thing to pieces in a rage and chucked it in the bin.
I never dreamed it'd wind up in his study.
His slender fingers brushed along the frame, his eyes swirling with emotions I couldn't read.
No clue what was running through his head, but next thing, he grabbed his phone, pulled up our old chat thread, and skimmed it.
The conversation was still stuck right before our last blowup.
He flipped to his contacts, started dialing my number.
But the second it connected, he cut it off.
What the hell was he doing?
Too chicken to face me?
He'd had zero hesitation shipping me off to surgery against my will—a phone call should've been nothing.
Thanks to my kidney keeping her going, Rebecca's health bounced back bit by bit.
The day she got discharged, I was still hooked up in the ICU.
She slipped into the dress Justin had handpicked for her, and while the doctor was filling him in on her status, she snuck off to my room.
She eyed my pale, lifeless face, a cocky grin spreading across her lips.
"Jeanette, just look at yourself—how pitiful. Big deal if you're some pampered rich girl. You just got a luckier start in life, that's it."
She patted her scar gently.
"See? Your kidney's in here now. It's all mine. And Justin will be next."
She ran her fingers over my cheek like she was gloating over a prize.