Chapter Two: Anything

"What?"

Vincent asks, a deathly stillness lacing his voice.

“Divorce, I want a divorce.”

"A divorce for what? Tasha, explain why you are here; show her the stain on your clothes."

He insists, and so I turn to her, but a frozen panic marks her expression.

"I-I-...Livy, don't you believe your husband?”

Hah…so much for ‘friendship.’

"I am Olivia to you now, to both of you.”

"Where the hell do you think you are going?"

Vincent asks with a raised voice as I spin away from him. I need to leave this house; I can get my things later.

“Livy! I asked you a question: where the hell do you think you are going?”

"Away."

"Stop right there!"

He calls after me, but I do not; this could be the first time I have disobeyed him while he is aggressive with his anger.

I can't help the racing of my heart that feels constricted in my chest or the pounding of my head at the facts that I ignored; of course, this is why he stopped sleeping with me because he could sate his lust elsewhere!

I can't return to my family; they didn't even attend my wedding, so where the hell am I going to go?

"Olivia!”

His harsh call is paired with his harsh tug of my arm that causes me to lose balance, but he steadies me in his arms, the last place I want to be.

"Do you think divorce is something cheap? Do you think because I pay for everything, I will grant you that?"

"I'll cover it, cover the whole divorce, just sign. That's all you need to do. It should be easy, right? You haven't loved me in quite a while, so it should be easy.”

Deny it, Vincent, say you love me.

“Is this your reaction to my begging you to give my mother your liver? Don’t you think that you are being a little too dramatic? And for what I do for you, shouldn’t you know your place by now?”

What?

Hah...

No sound leaves me at his words, not even as tears flow freely from my eyes and my gaze lands on a smiling Natasha.

Had I been just a little keener, then…

My hands flail, anything for his touch to not be on my body. When he resisted, I added more force only before I knew it; my accidental punch sent him two steps back, and my body rocked in the opposite direction, leaving me tumbling mercilessly against the cold marble steps.

"Olivia!”

Vincent calls as he runs to me; he falls to his knees at the bottom of the steps and cradles my body before lifting his hand from beneath my head and gasping at the blood on his hand.

 “Call an ambulance!"

He yells to Natasha, who disappears into our bedroom as if it were hers as well that she would even leave her belongings there.

Vincent's face fades from my view as darkness claims me mercilessly.

**

"She didn't sign."

Vincent's voice utters in the darkness of the fog.

Am I dreaming?

"She doesn't need to; you are her husband. Her guardian, the doctors, will have to listen to you."

Natasha’s voice answers.

“But Olivia doesn't want-”

“She wants to, Vincent, look at me. Olivia wanted to change her mind about donating her liver. She called me when I was washing my skirt. I have my logs to prove it. She just wanted you to ask romantically. You know how she likes expensive things.”

"This doesn't feel right, Tasha."

Am I really asleep?

What are they discussing?

Why does my body feel so...heavy?

I can barely open my eyes.

"Doesn't feel right? She left your mother in the supermarket, and now Nancy has missed her dialysis. Didn't you hear it when the doctor said next time could be fatal? Vincent, you can appease Olivia later. You have the rest of your lives, but if you continue waiting, your mother might die, especially now that she is bringing divorce up for your attention."

"You think it's for attention?"

"Of course, Olivia can't afford it; she hasn't been working. She needs you, Vincent."

"No doctor will approve of such a procedure..."

"Leave that to me; just sit down, and you know, keep her company; since she hasn't eaten in a day, the surgery can be scheduled for tomorrow morning. Let me just confirm, okay?”

Wait?

Are they...

Oh, God! Are they planning on harvesting my liver without my consent?

What kind of doctor would-

But this is Natasha we are talking about…Natasha always gets the job done; that is what made us close, to begin with!

No...

My eyes are getting heavier.

I can feel sleep claim me once more, but I need to get out of here!

“Livy...”

Vincent begins softly with a sigh.

“Forgive me for this; I am desperate. Let's talk when you wake up. Okay?”

I want to peel his hands from mine, I want to lash out, hell, I even want to cry if it will stop this suffocating madness, but again...sleep lulls me to oblivion.

Good God, at this rate, I'll wake up after surgery.

**

“We can do it in an hour. At midnight, most specialists are away, so it will only be emergency doctors, the majority of whom are interns. We can disguise the surgery as an internal bleeding emergency from her fall. I am the only surgeon available now; it will be fine. No one will suspect a thing. The anaesthesiologist is on the way, so make sure you wire the money before she arrives."

"Can you make it so that she won't know a piece of her liver was taken?"

My eyes open slightly, but the bright bulbs in the room blur my vision; despite that, I can recognise Natasha’s red hair with ease, so I keep my eyelids shut so as not to let her know I am awake.

"The scar will be there, but I can write her a psychological record so that if the case is taken to court-"

"It will be easy to dismiss as a mental illness, discrediting her in front of the jury!”

Natasha finishes the male voice’s sentence as if they were soulmates.

"What about the husband?"

"He is easy to handle; besides, nothing brings two people closer than secrets. So, Vincent and I will be fine."

A chuckle leaves the doctor.

“As vindictive as ever. Anyway, I'll go prep for the surgery."

“Of course, Doctor Harison."

The sound of the door clicking followed by heels approaching my bed echo.

Cold fingers brush my forehead before a dry laugh follows.

"You dumb bitch.... I told you your fifteen seconds of fame were up. I hope you wake up soon...I can't wait to see your face."

Again, the sound of the door opening and then closing leaves me in the silent room, with only the increased beeping sound of the device monitoring my heart rate and blood pressure due to fear creeping inside me.

My eyes open, and the familiar sting of the brightness is still present but softer.

Move…please move!

I plead with my body, but it still feels as if it is numbed to the point that I am lucid dreaming.

“Please...”

My plea comes out as a whisper even though in my head, it felt like a roar; regardless, I force my body off the bed by rolling to the side and instead falling painfully on the ground with a loud thud.

That seems to work but I still feel too sleepy to feel pleased by the progress.

My legs feel cold and weak, so without attempting to stand, I crawl on the ground towards the door after removing the IV tube and band, hooking me to the heart rate monitor.

The IV removal makes me bleed slightly, but who cares? There are more terrifying things awaiting me should I stay in this room.

I never realised how hard push doors are to open until my hands began to tremble with fatigue at my attempt, forcing me to use my torso and slink outside the room.

Fuck, the space is empty; if they find me crawling out, they will drag me back.

My eyes feel dry despite the desperate sorrow racking my body to the point of numbness. Hell, forget crying; I am certain I am closer to laughing at this stupid predicament than crying.

“Even dogs have the decency to die in private, yet you crawl along the corridors. Do you need me to help you die faster?”

A cold voice asks, startling me to stillness.

Weird, I am certain the hallways were empty.

My vision is still blurry, so it is only out of politeness that I turn to the hazy figure behind me; they are tall, no, huge, but lean as if they played a sport that kept them in shape even in their suit.

He has three people standing beside him; three is good! Three is a crowd, and a crowd is good! So rather than rush away from him, I sweeten my voice.

“Help me. Help me, please. I will give you anything you want if you help me.”

His laugh is dark and rich. It sends shivers up my spine, shuddering me as the scent of dark, rich chocolate and blood wafts to my nostrils.

“My my…how careless. 'Anything', truly?”