My Ex-husband Regretted it After I Left Him

After donating bone marrow for my husband, Jake Hayes, I stumbled upon a viral video when I was at the hospital. "I entered the game, staking myself, all for the sake of making her willingly donate marrow for the one I love. In order for you to survive, I had to sacrifice my own love. Goodbye, my beloved."

The guy in the video had deep-set eyes and gently kissed the lips of a woman sleeping beside him. His actions were restrained yet full of affection.

In the comments, a lot of people lamented.

"Finally, a bittersweet ending where he can grow old with his love."

"But the poor woman who donated the bone marrow probably remains unaware of the truth."

I stared at the face I had been close to for months, feeling a dull ache in my side from the puncture.

I went through the discharge procedures myself.

I said goodbye to everyone at the orphanage.

But after I completely vanished from Jake's world, he was determined to find me, even if it meant searching high and low.

...

Just as I received the discharge papers from the front desk, a familiar voice called from behind me. "Molly? Didn't you just have surgery? What are you doing here?"

It was Jake.

I was panicked and hid the documents behind my back. I tried to maintain composure, but my mind went blank. I couldn't find a suitable excuse at that moment.

Jake seemed to sense something and said in a normal tone before I spoke, "The doctor said bone marrow transplant surgery is risky and requires lengthy preparation. I won't be able to undergo it for a few days."

I quickly realized that he hadn't known I had watched that video.

He didn't know I was already aware of the truth.

"Okay." I didn't expose him.

"Oh, by the way," he asked, "why aren't you resting in the hospital room? Where are you going?"

"There is an urgent matter in the orphanage." I didn't want to say more.

Jake frowned and said, "You're hospitalized. Why are they still bothering you?"

I found it amusing.

Wasn't I hospitalized because he gave my bone marrow to another woman?

Why did he bother pretending to care about me now?

I recalled how I first met Jake at the hospital's billing desk.

The director of the orphanage had a sudden medical emergency. After sending her to the operating room, I rushed to pay the medical fees when I accidentally bumped into someone in line.

I apologized while picking up the scattered documents.

Jake remained silent. He looked cold as he retrieved his papers without glancing at me.

I thought that minor incident would end there.

But half a month later, Jake unexpectedly contacted me and began pursuing me.

Eventually, we naturally ended up together, leading to today.

Now I finally understood why he suddenly changed his attitude.

He was always searching for suitable bone marrow for Freda.

After discovering I was a match, he deliberately approached me.

Jake meticulously planned and executed every step to take my bone marrow for Freda Natt.

Jake married me, built a relationship with me, and feigned bone cancer to trick me into donating... I remembered all this and felt absurd.

He never loved me. In our ten years together, everything he did and every bit of affection was for Freda.

My heart felt heavy with sadness. I couldn't even breathe.

Since his goal was achieved, the end of our relationship must be near.

He seemed to sense my distance and appeared lost.

When he saw my gaze fall on the handbag in his hand, he awkwardly pulled it back. "A friend of mine is hospitalized, and I'm helping her bring some clothes."

I had seen that handbag in Freda's social media posts.

But, never mind.

I had learned that he didn't love me, so there was no point in clinging on.

The thought of leaving grew increasingly clear in my mind.

"Alright," I responded indifferently.

Jake naturally took the items from my hand. "Let's go. I'll give you a ride."

I was stunned. "What about your friend?"

"It's fine."

No matter how I protested, he remained firm in his decision.

I had no choice but to get into the car.

Wedged in the gap of the passenger seat was a lipstick. It was Freda's.

Although I was prepared, my mind went black momentarily when I saw the lipstick.

Jake didn't notice my unease and merely adjusted the air conditioning.

He knew I was prone to feeling cold easily.

To accommodate my motion sickness, he drove smoothly.

Watching his profile, I suddenly said, "Jake."

"Yes?"

"This is it for us..."

Before I could finish, his phone rang.

Jake freed a hand to answer it.

The voice on the other end of the line was sweet and soft. It was presumably Freda.

I considerately turned to look out of the window.

From the corner of my eye, I saw his gentle expression as he talked to Freda on the phone.

Actually, Jake's acting wasn't very convincing.

Such scenarios had occurred multiple times.

He always failed to hide his concern and affection for another woman.

Yet Jake's presence conveniently filled the void of family warmth within me.

I was afraid to lose the fragile, home-like warmth I found with him.

So even when I sensed something was wrong, I restrained myself from overthinking.

As long as I didn't dwell on it, nothing seemed amiss.

But I never imagined my self-deception would ultimately cost me so dearly.

After hanging up, he asked me, "Molly, what were you going to say just now?"

"Nothing." I shook my head.

Jake nodded and gave an apologetic expression. "My friend suddenly has an issue. I might not be able to drive you there."

"It's okay." I unbuckled the seatbelt and said, "Just pull over."

Despite his conflicted expression, his actions were decisive.

After handing me my items, he drove away without hesitation.

Watching the car disappear into the distance, I felt an unprecedented sense of relief.

"Jake, I'm leaving you," I said in my mind.

I went home to pack my belongings.

I looked at the place where I'd lived for ten years, and memories poured in uncontrollably.

My eyes filled with unshed tears.

If Jake had no feelings for me at all, then why did he buy this place immediately after I said I wanted a home?

Why did he, usually shrewd in business, donate year after year to the orphanage where I grew up without expecting anything in return?

Why did I see him outside the operating room with eyes filled with unshed tears and pleading with the doctors to ensure the surgery's success?

It was strange.

Even though I was hurt deeply, I remained hopeful and was unwilling to believe that I had misjudged him.

Then I opened the drawer and found the wedding planning book buried within.

The book was worn and heavily annotated, filled with his handwriting, detailing changes. Everything was according to Freda's measurements and preferences.

My fingers skimmed over the luxurious photos of wedding dresses and the elegant venue arrangements. I trembled uncontrollably.

To the world, I was Jake's wife.

But only I knew that he never held a wedding for me.

One ordinary morning, he simply slipped a ring around my finger and said, "Molly, let's get married. But I have terminal bone cancer and don't know how long I have left, so we won't hold a wedding." He paused before continuing, "This way, after I'm gone, you can remarry without facing judgment."

I cried and threw myself into his arms. I stopped him from continuing.

I decided to donate my marrow to him at that moment.

Looking back, I realized I was a complete joke.

On the last page, Jake had written solemnly. "This New Year's Eve, I must give my beloved the grandest proposal."

My heart felt as if it had been sliced with a knife.

It was New Year's Eve this evening.

Just then, the phone rang.

I hastily wiped away my tears and answered it. "Hello?"

"Molly." Jake's voice came. He sounded a bit anxious. "How did you make that soup for me before? I have a hospitalized friend who can't eat anything, and I want to make some to bring over."

Jake couldn't cook.

So even though he knew my stomach was weak, he never cooked for me.

Through the phone, I heard the clatter of pots and pans. He sighed and said directly, "Forget it. You just make some and bring it to the hospital as soon as possible."

I suppressed the disappointment in my heart and replied, "I don't have time."

Freda's voice faintly reached my ears from the other end of the line, and Jake immediately turned his attention to her.

"Hurry up. If you want a gift, just pick one yourself." With that, he hung up.

I stared at the darkened phone screen and remained unmoved for a long moment.

I didn't want anything from him anymore, not even a gift.

Two hours later, Jake rushed back.

Seeing no packed soup on the table, he immediately pulled a long face. "Molly, where's the soup I asked you to cook? Don't you know I'm in a hurry?"

In the past ten years, I rarely refused his requests.

Precisely because of that, it was the first time he lost his temper with me over some soup.

I looked at him and felt nothing but coldness in my heart. "I told you that I didn't have time."

He pointed at my half-packed luggage and said, "Then what's this? You have time to pack but not to make soup? You've been in a mood all day. What's wrong with you, Molly? You weren't like this before."

He was right.

But I had watched that video.

I interrupted him, "If I cook it, I need to buy groceries, prepare ingredients, and make the soup. It takes at least eight hours. Jake, do you remember that I just had surgery?"

I looked at him and continued softly, "As your wife, am I less important than your friend?"

He was momentarily lost for words. His expression changed several times before he managed dry explanations. Then he turned and slammed the door as he left.

As the planning book outlined, Jake indeed rented out a popular riverside area of the city to propose to Freda that evening.

The ring was the highlight of a charity auction. Fireworks exploded with their initials, and even the decorative flowers were Ecuadorian roses flown in.

Social media buzzed with excitement about that extravagant proposal.

Messages from friends popped up one after the other, but I replied to none. Instead, I quietly booked a flight to the south for the next day.

Before leaving, I visited the orphanage to see the director, Ellen Norris, and the children there.

I only mentioned that I was leaving, without saying a word about Jake.

Yet, Ellen saw right through my facade and asked with concern, "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

Her words caught me off guard, and I almost burst into tears.

In fact, I wanted to make a scene, but I was timid, as I grew up in an environment without support.

Moreover, if I fell out with Jake, he could withdraw his investment in the orphanage at any time.

I couldn't say anything.

Ellen gently patted the back of my hand and said, "Take care of yourself. If anything happens, you can come back as you want."

As soon as she finished, she looked behind me, and her smile vanished instantly. "What are you doing here?"

Freda entered in high heels. Her red lips were perfectly made up, and she was dressed head-to-toe in designer labels.

She said with disdain, "I just wanted to see how miserable you are."

I clenched my fists and stood up. "Get out. You're not welcome here."

"Molly, you haven't changed at all over these years. You are still a coward." She raised her eyebrows and continued, "I took your husband from you, and you don't even say anything."

"I've already given you my bone marrow. What more do you want?"

"So you do know the truth." She feigned surprise and tossed a document from her handbag. "But what can you do? My bone marrow is perfectly fine."

I was stunned as I picked up the medical report.

The results were clear that everything was fine.

"I told a casual lie, and Jake set up a trap for you for ten years. What do you have to compete with me?" She chuckled softly.

A chill ran through me, and my fingers turned pale from clenching them. "Why are you doing this?"

"Why?" Freda's smile was venomous. "Because I hate you. Why did you meddle and save me back then? If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have had to suffer so much here."

Her words reminded me of what had happened twenty years ago.

Freda's original family was a nightmare. Her mother worked at nightclubs and was seldom home. Her father was buried in debt and addicted to gambling. She grew up going hungry and getting beaten.

That day, she had been beaten so badly that she dragged her bleeding leg and fainted at the orphanage gate.

When I found her while cleaning the yard, I was scared and called Ellen. The latter brought her in.

Ellen took her to various doctors and managed to save her life.

I thought I had helped her, but I hadn't realized that I had pulled her into another hell.

Being fragile and marked by past trauma, she was soon ostracized by other children in the orphanage.

In fact, even in an orphanage, there would be bullying.

Although I tried my best to protect her, there were always times I couldn't.

Other children spat in her food, poured filth on her while she bathed, cut up her few clothes, framed her for theft, and even cornered her to break her hands...

She was taken away as an adult later, and I hadn't seen her since.

I never imagined that my act of kindness back then would lead to a decade-long revenge.

"I originally planned to let you die on the operating table, but you have such a tough life." Freda admired her freshly done nails and said, "Since you're not dead, hurry up and leave. Stop bothering me and Jake."

She stepped closer and threatened me. "Otherwise, I'll have him pull the funding, and everyone here will be out on the street."

My eyes widened sharply, and I grabbed her collar. "Are you insane? You grew up here, too. Those who bullied you were sent to juvenile detention by Ellen long ago. These kids now are innocent."

She shoved me away, and her eyes were red with rage. "So what? Does that erase the pain I suffered? It's all your fault for being kind and saving me."

She pointed at Ellen and said in a sharp voice, "And you are an old fool. You couldn't even get justice for me. What's the point of your living? You might as well be dead."

I slapped Freda hard across the face.

Just then, Jake opened the door and walked in.