Chapter 2

Stunned, the doctor, Timothy Westin, quickly called Queenie to explain the situation.

"Ms. Jorian! What in the world is going on? Why doesn't your husband have another kidney? He's in critical condition. You need to bring back the kidney that was just removed."

"What? Dr. Westin, are you serious? Did Niels tell you to say this? I knew he wouldn't be so generous. Tell him we're not giving it back. Francis is already preparing to undergo the transplant surgery. How selfish can Niels be to want his kidney back now?"

With that, Queenie hung up, furious.

Although I was still under anesthesia, my mind was strangely alert, perhaps due to how close I was to death.

I heard Timothy desperately calling Queenie, explaining that there might still be a chance to save me if she returned the kidney in time.

However, Queenie refused to believe him. She was convinced that I was conspiring with Timothy to deceive her. She simply turned off her phone.

But deep down, I knew that Queenie was utterly desperate to save Francis. I had no doubt that if she knew only one of us would survive, she would pick to save Francis without hesitation.

She had met Francis after the accident during her massage therapy training. The two had become close friends over time. Queenie had often brought him home without worrying about what others would think.

I had even overheard her once saying to him how exhausting it was to care for me. It had felt like she had been carrying an endless burden, living with a paralyzed person.

She had seemed to have forgotten that she had initially gone into massage therapy out of concern for my muscle atrophy from being paralyzed.

As I lay there on the cold operating table, a tear escaped from the corner of my eye.

I couldn't help but wonder when Queenie had stopped loving me.

Perhaps it had started when I had become paralyzed while saving her during that accident. At first, Queenie had looked at me with pity, but eventually her gaze had turned into one of impatience.

Since she wanted to shake off the burden I had become, I was willing to grant her that freedom. Just as I felt my life slipping away, I sensed a small hand clutching my finger.

"Dad, please wake up. Don't sleep, okay? I promise I'll be good." I heard Leroy's voice. With the last of my strength, I opened my eyes one final time to look at him before I passed away.

The day after my death, my soul found its way to Francis' hospital room. His surgery had been successful, and Queenie was tenderly caring for him.

"Francis, congratulations on surviving! You've made it through the worst," she remarked to him, her tone soft. The way she gazed at him reminded me of how she had once looked at me in our youth.

"No, Queenie, I should be the one thanking you. Without you, Niels would never have agreed to give up his kidney for me." Francis held Queenie's hand. "Oh, how's Niels doing?"

"Oh, he's fine. He won't die without a kidney," Queenie replied indifferently. "What matters now is you, Francis. Take good care of yourself and work hard to live a normal life."

Her words felt like a dull blade slicing through my heart piece by piece. She had no idea.

While she celebrated her best friend's miraculous survival, her paralyzed husband had already died in despair in the hospital.

"Queenie, even though Niels gave me his kidney, I'm worried he'll resent you when you go back. I can't let this cause problems in your marriage. Take the kidney back. Go get the doctor."

Feigning concern, Francis tried to sit up.