Your Regret, My Revenge

The bone marrow match was a success. I could finally live.

The hospital door was slightly ajar. My husband, Vincent Jenkins's voice drifted in from the hallway. "Give the marrow to Cathryn. She's carrying my son."

A loud buzz filled my head, drowning out everything else.

My blood felt like it instantly froze, every ounce of strength drained from my body.

After three years of chemo, I'd lost all my hair, vomited until I was dry-heaving bile, but I never once thought of giving up, because Vincent had always been by my side.

He always said, "Hang in there, Brenna. We still have decades ahead of us."

I believed him.

But now, he was giving my only shot at survival to another woman and a son I'd never heard of.

My primary doctor was Vincent's cousin. I heard his cousin's voice, hesitant.

"Vincent, that woman is near her due date. She can't undergo a transplant surgery now. And her condition… she can wait. But your wife… She can't wait any longer. Acute leukemia, dragged out for three years… this is a perfect match. It's her only chance. If she misses this opportunity, she really will... "

"So what?" Vincent's voice was calm. "The Jenkins family line can't end with me. She can hang on for a few more months, right? Didn't the doctor say optimistically she has half a year? That's enough time for Cathryn to give birth. If she dies… well, the insurance money will cover my son's college abroad."

"Vincent, this is murder!" The cousin's voice shot up. "That's the ideal scenario. She could take a turn for the worse any time. Vincent, what you're doing is too cruel to your wife. She loves you so much and trusts you deeply."

"Cruel?" Vincent let out a light laugh, a coldness in it I'd never heard before. "I've been by her side for three years. I've done my duty. A woman who can't have children, hogging the title of Mrs. Jenkins for this long… she should be grateful."

Couldn't bear children?

Those words burned into my heart like a hot brand.

Yeah, because of the chemo, I lost the ability to be a mother a long time ago.

I was heartbroken over it. He was the one who held me, gently comforting me, saying, "It doesn't matter, Brenna. I love you. Kids or no kids, it's the same to me."

Turned out, his mouth said "it doesn't matter," but in his heart, he'd already sentenced me to death.

"Use it for Cathryn first. She's carrying my son, our future. As for Brenna, let her wait a little longer. Maybe… there will be another chance."

There would be no other chance.

The doctor had said it clearly that my case was special. Finding a perfect match like this was a one-in-a-million miracle.

Missing it meant a death sentence.

Vincent knew that better than anyone.

I gripped the sheets under me, my nails digging into my palms.

So, in my husband's