7
The surgery was successful.
My soul floated in the hospital corridor, watching two people being wheeled out of the operating room.
One was Bella, with a stable heartbeat. The other was me, my body emptied.
“Bella’s saved,” the nurse said. “The transplanted organs are in good condition.”
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief, his eyes red–rimmed.
He held Bella’s hand, keeping vigil for an entire night.
I floated beside him, watching him tuck Bella in. His hands were steady, as if afraid of hurting her.
Afterwards, he stood facing the window for a long time.
“You’ve suffered,” he said, his voice hoarse beyond recognition.
Who was he talking to?
After I had died once to save Leo, he had kept vigil over me in the same way, saying the same words.
But now, the body that had been pushed into the morgue didn’t even have a heart.
“Captain Quinn,” the on–duty nurse called out to him, “What should we do with Ms. Hart’s remains?”
CVID LY
2:48 PM
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“I’ll send her to the cryogenic chamber,” he said.
The nurse hesitated, about to speak but then stopping herself.
It was then that I realized they had sent my other organs to different intensive care units.
So from the very beginning, he had planned it all.
“This one for the critically injured patient in bed three, this one for bed five…”
I followed the nurse down the corridor of the ICU, listening to them discussing the allocation plan for my organs.
So while I was asleep, Ryan had already arranged everything.
He even remembered which organs had grown anew after my second rebirth, the ones in the best condition.
I stood behind him, watching him seriously sign one medical record after another.
Moonlight spilled through the window onto his profile, and suddenly I didn’t recognize this man anymore.
But just then, he took out a box from his bag. It was our wedding album.
His fingers gently traced over my face in the photos.
For a moment, I wanted so badly to believe he truly loved me.
But the next day, he brought a bouquet of baby’s breath to visit Bella.
It was my favorite flower, yet he said, “This is your favorite, right?”
Bella smiled weakly, “You still remember.”
I stood in the corner of the hospital room, watching them talk about the past.
This scene was like a knife, stabbing into my non–existent heart.
The heart beating there now belonged to Bella.
I remembered his tenderness last night as he looked at our wedding photos, and then saw his doting smile now. Suddenly I understood: perhaps he did love me, but only one ten–thousandth as much as he loved her.
Whether it was enough or not didn’t matter anymore.
After all, I was just a reusable spare part, someone he could sacrifice without hesitation when he needed to.
I watched them laughing and talking, suddenly wanting to flee.
But my soul seemed to be tethered to that still–beating heart, unable to leave.
