Chapter 2
From the day I donated my bone marrow to the day I finally got discharged, twenty-three days went by.
Lucas never once came to see me.
But Vivian? She had people dropping off gifts every other day—imported fruit, fancy supplements.
Each time, there was a card, written in pink ink: [Nora, thank you for saving me. Once I'm back on my feet, I'll come thank you in person.]
At the bottom, she drew a smiley face—the handwriting was unmistakably done with the same pen Lucas always carried in his shirt pocket.
I knew she was showing off.
Showing off that Lucas even let her use his pen, showing off that she was the one he adored most, showing off that to her, I was just a pathetic donor, nothing more.
I threw all that stuff straight into the trash.
It was a gloomy day when I finally got discharged.
I carried my small bag to the hospital entrance, ready to call a cab. My body still hadn't bounced back—just a few steps left me gasping, that bone-deep emptiness gnawing at me, like something hollowed out and never filled.
"Nora?" A familiar voice rang out suddenly.
Turning, I spotted Lucas walking from the parking lot. No longer in his white coat, he wore a tailored gray cashmere overcoat that emphasized his lean, commanding height.
Vivian was at his elbow, bundled in a puffy winter coat and a woolen hat.
Though her complexion was still wan, her eyes shone brightly as she leaned into him, a picture of delicate dependence.
"Dr. Reed. Ms. Shaw." My nod was courteous and deliberately detached.
A slight frown crossed Lucas' features, as if the formal address didn't sit right.
I used to always call him Lucas, even though he'd told me a million times, "Use my title at work." I just never changed.
Now, breaking it was easy. It simply didn't matter anymore.
"Getting discharged? Anyone coming to pick you up?" he asked, his eyes flicking over the bag in my hand.
"I'm just grabbing a cab," I replied.
"I'll drive you," he said, like he was just giving instructions at work.
Vivian instantly hooked her arm through his, whining, "Lucas, didn't you promise to go with me for my check-up?"
"Let Dr. Quinn take you. Dr. Sinclair just donated her bone marrow—she's still recovering. I'll take her home," Lucas said, giving her hand a reassuring pat.
Vivian pouted for a second, then flashed a sugary smile. "Alright. Nora, make sure you get plenty of rest!"
She leaned in for a hug, but I stepped back, leaving her hand awkwardly hanging in the air.
"Sorry. I'm just not feeling well," I said.
A pout formed on Vivian's lips, melting almost at once into a radiant smile. "Oh, alright. You rest up, Nora! You're definitely coming to our engagement party, right?"
"I will," I said.
While Lucas went to fetch the car, Vivian stayed behind, her smile unwavering.
Only when the taillights had retreated enough did that smile slowly harden into something colder.
"Nora, don't think donating your bone marrow will change anything," she said, her voice low, just for us.
I looked at her. "I never wanted to change anything."
"Smart." She edged closer, her fingertips ghosting over my abdomen—still flat, but her touch felt like a brand.
"I hear you're pregnant." Her eyes crinkled with feigned warmth. "Funny. So am I."
My eyes widened in shock.
"Lucas' baby. He said once the baby's born, we'll get married," she said, stroking her belly, looking blissful as a saint.
She leaned in close, her breath warm against my skin.
"As for your baby... Nora, do you really think Lucas would let a woman he doesn't love have his child?"
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.
"Vivian, are you actually pregnant?" I said, locking eyes with her.
Her smile faltered as I continued.
"You had leukemia, just got a bone marrow transplant, you're still on immunosuppressants, and you only finished chemo three months ago. You know better than anyone how impossible it is for someone in your condition to get pregnant."
Her eyes flickered. "What are you getting at?"
I smiled, "What I mean is... doesn't it get exhausting, pretending to be sick for so long?"
Vivian's face went ghostly pale.
She drew a sharp breath to speak, but the sound of Lucas' car returning cut her off.
"Vivian, get in," Lucas called, rolling down the window.
Vivian shot me a venomous glare, then turned and slid into the car, instantly switching back to her sweet, innocent act. "Lucas, Nora said she's not feeling well. Let's get her home quickly."
Lucas glanced at me. "Get in."
However, I stood motionless.
"Nora." His tone held a silent command.
Finally, I opened the rear door and settled inside.
The car was stiflingly warm, saturated with the clash of Vivian's sweet perfume and Lucas' crisp cedar cologne. The mix turned my stomach.
I lowered the window, welcoming the bite of the cold air.
"Close it. Vivian can't handle the draft," Lucas said, shooting me a look in the rearview mirror.
"I get carsick," I said.
"Just suck it up," he replied.
However, I kept the window open.
Lucas' expression darkened, but he stayed silent.
As the car moved on, a soft, stifled sob broke the quiet from the passenger seat.
"What's wrong?" Lucas asked, his voice gentler now.
"Nothing..." Vivian wiped her tears. "It's just... I feel like Nora doesn't like me. Did I do something wrong?"
Lucas shot me a cold glance through the rearview mirror. "Nora. Apologize to Vivian."
I watched the streets race past outside the window and smiled ironically, "Dr. Reed, why should I apologize?"
"Because you made her upset," Lucas said.
"She's upset because I exposed her lies. Lucas, have you never wondered? Vivian's recovery was way too fast," I retorted, meeting Lucas' eyes in the rearview mirror.
A sudden, heavy silence filled the car.
Vivian's crying stopped. Lucas' grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles white.
"Nora, do you realize what you're saying?" he said coldly.
"I do." My tone was calm, empty. "I'm saying the person you treasure might have been lying to you all along."
"That's enough!" Lucas slammed on the brakes.
The car screeched to a halt by the roadside.
He spun around, his eyes blazing with fury. "Nora, I never thought you could be this cruel. Vivian just had a transplant—she's barely out of surgery, still weak—and you're accusing her of lying?"
"If you think I'm making this up, just check, and you'll know. Her medical records, test results, every single report—would you dare let me review them all over again?" I said, locking eyes with him.
Lucas stared me down, trying to catch even the slightest crack in my composure.
But my face gave nothing away—only stillness.
"Lucas..." Vivian clung to his hand, tears falling again. "Does Nora hate me? Does she think I took you away from her? If that's how she feels, I can go..."
"Don't say that," Lucas said, pulling her into his arms and shooting me a look like I was nothing but trash. "Nora, get out of the car."
But I didn't move, staring at him.
"Get out," Lucas repeated, his voice icy.
I watched Lucas holding Vivian, and suddenly, the whole scene felt absurd.
The man I'd loved for a decade left me stranded by the roadside for Vivian.
He didn't even ask if I could make it back on my own.
I pushed the door open. Cold air rushed in, making me shiver.
"Lucas, you'll regret this," I said, standing outside and gripping the door.
He gave a cold, scornful laugh. "My only regret is ever knowing you."
Then he hit the gas, and the car sped off with a roar.
The exhaust blasted into my face, carrying the harsh, biting smell of gasoline.
I stood there, watching it disappear. Then I doubled over, vomiting onto the pavement.
Only bitter bile, streaked with blood.
A sharp cramp twisted my lower abdomen.
Clutching my stomach, I sank into a crouch.
My phone was buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw an urgent message from a colleague in the OB-GYN department.
[Nora, your bone marrow reserve test results just came in!]
[It's really bad. The depletion from your previous donation is way worse than we expected. Your bone marrow can barely make blood cells now. If you have any more bleeding or get an infection, you and the baby could both be lost!]
I stared at the message, my vision blurring again and again.
There could be no hope for both me and the baby.
And Lucas? He was somewhere, holding Vivian, comforting her over fake tears.
The cold wind whipped around me, chilling me through.
But inside, a fire ignited—a raging inferno, ready to burn it all down.