I Left With Nothing

It was our seventh year of marriage when my husband, Joseph Lowe, brought my best friend, Teresa Shaw, to my ward.

And they were the picture of a perfect couple. I gave them my most genuine blessing. "You two make the perfect match."

Joseph tossed an agreement in my face.

An asset transfer.

He demanded that I give Teresa everything I had. I took the papers and signed my name without wasting a moment to think.

Teresa laughed happily, pleased with my obedience. She then hugged Joseph and said, "Thanks for taking care of Joseph for me, Selina. Oh, there's the divorce papers, too. How about…"

I noticed the look of impatience in Joseph's eyes, so I snatched the papers from Teresa's hand. "Yeah, I'll sign them all."

Nearing Death

Three years ago, Joseph had a heart attack during an extreme sports session, and he was knocked out right away.

The doctor said he needed a new and healthy heart, or he would never wake again. When they told me my heart was a match for Joseph, I signed the form of consent without batting an eye.

When I woke up, I realized I could never get used to Joseph's weak heart, and my condition was getting worse with every passing day.

And so I chose to leave him. I refused to weigh him down. He thought I left him because of his disease.

Our reunion happened when he barged into my ward, bringing my childhood friend with him. He stood before me and made me sign the asset transfer.

I met his sardonic gaze and hid my arm that was covered in track marks. The guy was adapting well. I had mixed feelings about that.

There was no regret from me. That was not what he was hoping for. I said calmly, "Well, you're rich now. You should be giving me money, not taking what little I have left."

Joseph snickered. He yanked off the couple's necklace we bought and stomped it underneath his foot. "I knew it. You're leaving me just for money. You ran off the moment I got hit with the heart attack. If Teresa hadn't donated her heart to me, I'd never have gotten this far!"

He kicked the necklace away. "I want you to lose everything you have."

The people around us gasped. The patients and nurses were giving me looks of mockery and disdain. I picked up the necklace and dusted it off.

The once-shining obsidian was now covered in grime. 'But I was the one who donated my heart to you,' I thought.

I said nothing about it. I was a dying woman, anyway. The hospital gave me a notice of critical condition earlier. Two weeks left.

I would not survive unless I had a new heart, but the surgery was far pricier than what I could afford.

I wanted to live for myself, for what remained of my life. So I put on the necklace, to everyone's disdain. I linked it