Your Perfect Match Was Never Me, Ask Her For A Liver

Synopsis

My fiancé, David Carter, was diagnosed with late-stage liver cancer. I was a perfect match and donated half of my liver to him. After the surgery, he hugged his first love, Serena Lane, and said, "If it weren't for your prayers, I wouldn't have survived." I clutched the medical report showing the scar on my abdomen while listening to David propose to her. "Our livers are connected. We're meant to be." That night, I died of a fever and infection in my rented room, my phone playing their wedding livestream on loop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment before surgery, when the doctor asked if I was sure about donating. I pulled out the IV, rushed into David's hospital room, and in front of all his family and friends, tore the consent form to pieces and scattered them over his pale face. I said, "Oh, by the way— yesterday's test results show your precious Serena is actually a better match than I am." Seeing his face fall apart, I leaned in close, a soft laugh escaping my lips. I whispered, "So, what do you think? Is she willing to get on that operating table for you now?"