Chapter 3

"Julian!" Ava screamed, rushing past Ethan without a glance. She knelt beside Julian, her voice frantic. "What happened? Julian, are you okay?"

Julian groaned, pointing a shaking finger at Ethan. "He... he pushed me! Ethan pushed me down the stairs!"

Ava' s head snapped up, her eyes blazing with fury at Ethan. "You bastard! How could you?"

She helped Julian to his feet, supporting his weight as he limped heavily. The immediate crisis was Julian' s, and Ava' s anger was squarely directed at Ethan.

At the hospital, after X-rays confirmed a badly sprained ankle and a fractured fibula for Julian, Ava' s fury hadn' t abated.

Julian, pale and wincing, was propped up in a hospital bed. He needed pain medication, and the doctor mentioned he' d lost some blood from a cut on his leg.

"He needs blood," Ava declared, turning to Ethan. "You' re the same blood type. I remember from college. You' re going to give him blood."

It wasn' t a request. It was a command.

Ethan hesitated. A full blood donation, the pre-procedure check... they might notice his missing kidney. His scar was well-healed, but a thorough physical examination...

"What' s wrong?" Ava snapped. "Are you too precious to help the man you just assaulted?"

"I' ll do it," Ethan said, his mind racing. "But it' ll cost you. My blood isn' t free, especially not for him." He feigned greed, hoping to create a diversion, a reason for reluctance that wasn' t medical.

Ava' s eyes narrowed. "You disgusting pig." She pulled out her wallet, extracted several hundred-dollar bills, and threw them at his chest. "There. Now go do it."

He picked up the money, his face impassive. "Pleasure doing business with you."

The feigned eagerness, the mercenary act, solidified his greedy persona in her eyes. It was a familiar, painful dance.

A nurse prepped Ethan for the blood donation. Standard questions, blood pressure, temperature. Then the doctor came in to do a quick check.

"Shirt off, please," the doctor said, reaching for his stethoscope.

Ethan complied. The doctor listened to his heart, his lungs. Then his fingers palpated Ethan' s abdomen. He paused over Ethan' s left flank.

"Hmm," the doctor murmured, pressing again. "Everything alright here? You seem to be... missing a kidney."

Ava, who had been watching from the doorway, gasped. "What? Missing a kidney? What are you talking about?"

Ethan' s heart hammered. Exposure.

The doctor looked up, surprised by Ava' s outburst. "Yes, it appears Mr. Miller has only one kidney. It' s not uncommon, people can live perfectly healthy lives with one. Was it a congenital condition, or did you donate one, Mr. Miller?"

Ava stared at Ethan, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and dawning suspicion. "Ethan? Is this true?"

Ethan forced a laugh. "Missing a kidney? Doctor, you must be mistaken. I' m perfectly whole." He had to deflect. This couldn' t come out.

Ava' s suspicion hardened into disbelief, then into renewed anger.

"He' s lying!" she accused the doctor. "Ethan is a pathological liar! He' d say anything to get out of helping Julian! He' s probably trying to make you think he' s too fragile to donate!"

She turned back to Ethan, her face contorted with rage. "You are going to give Julian blood. And not just one pint. I want you to give as much as they' ll take. Make him pay for what he did." Her voice was cold, her demand excessive, dangerous. She was dismissing the doctor' s unintended revelation, her distrust of Ethan so profound she couldn' t see the truth even when it was hinted at.

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "Ma' am, we can only safely take one unit..."

"I' m paying for this," Ava cut him off, her eyes locked on Ethan. "Do it."

Ethan gritted his teeth. He couldn' t fight this without revealing everything. He nodded to the doctor.

The procedure was long. They took one unit, then, under Ava' s insistent gaze, the medical staff reluctantly agreed to a second, citing his good health despite the earlier anomaly they now dismissed as perhaps an oddity in his anatomy or a misinterpretation. He felt lightheaded, a growing weakness spreading through him. The room started to spin. He endured it, the physical pain a dull counterpoint to the agony of Ava' s hatred.

Finally, it was over. As he tried to stand, his legs buckled. The world went black. He collapsed.

He woke up slowly, a dull ache in his arm and a throbbing in his head. Someone had left a small container of congee – his favorite when he was sick – on the bedside table. A fleeting warmth touched him. Ava used to make this for him.

Then he heard her voice from Julian' s room next door, soft and tender.

"Here, Julian, try to eat a little. You need your strength."

The warmth vanished, replaced by a familiar ache. He pushed himself up, unsteady.

Ava appeared in the doorway, her expression hardening when she saw him awake. The brief moment of potential kindness, if it had even been from her, was gone.

"Oh, you' re finally up," she said, her voice devoid of any concern.

He looked at her, a silent question in his eyes. Did she leave the congee? Did any part of her still care?

Her next words shattered any illusion.

"Don' t get any ideas, Ethan. I don' t love you. I wouldn' t have cared if you' d bled out on that floor. You' re nothing to me."

The public rejection, cold and brutal, was another nail in the coffin of their past. He had chosen this. He had to endure it.