After I received notice that the organ match had failed, I came across a post online: What's your partner's get-out-of-jail-free card?
I thought about it for a moment and was just about to reply: When I was diagnosed with kidney disease, he cried and said he would give me one of his...
Then an anonymous comment caught my eye.
A: [My ex-boyfriend is an organ donation coordinator. He's handsome, kind, and completely devoted to me. His only flaw is that he's married. Later, his wife finally got a matching kidney. I jokingly said I wished that kidney could be mine. Want to know what happened? He forged a failed-match report and told his wife the kidney had been contaminated during transport and could no longer be used. She spent five years in a dialysis unit, praying every day for a healthy kidney. And just like that, with one sentence from me, all her efforts went to waste.]
After posting that, she uploaded a photo.
In a dimly lit hospital corridor, a hand held a medical chart.
A: [He stays by my side every day now, terrified that I'll leave him. He says when the time is right, he'll take me abroad and we'll settle there. I guess that's what true love is.]
When I saw the birthmark beneath the man's watch, a chill ran through my entire body.
The dark red, crescent-shaped mark was identical to the one on my husband Ethan Carter's wrist.
*****
The comments beneath the post quickly exploded.
The anonymous user was harshly criticized, but instead of backing down, she only became more excited. Every reply dripped with smug pride.
A: [Mistress? That's ridiculous. The one who isn't loved is the one who doesn't belong. I'm healthy, young, and beautiful. How could he not love me?]
When someone agreed with her, she replied eagerly.
A: [Exactly! You get me! His wife has end-stage kidney disease. She's been on dialysis for five years and doesn't even dare have children. She finally got a matching kidney, but then what? I said I didn't want her living too long and competing with me, so he switched the report. His wife is still at home waiting for another kidney. But where is she going to find another one? The doctor said her body could only hold on for another 6 months at most. Once I replace her as his wife, I'll come back and share my experience with all of you. I have to go now. He just called. He must be missing me.]
I stared at those words, my fingers trembling so badly that I could barely hold my phone.
3 months earlier, I had received a call from Grandview Medical Center.
The doctor told me they finally found a perfectly matched kidney. The donor was a young man who had been declared brain-dead after a car accident, and his family had agreed to donate his organs.
That night, I clung to Ethan and cried until morning.
It had been five years. From the day I was diagnosed with end-stage chronic kidney failure to the three hemodialysis sessions I underwent every week, I had endured countless tubes in my body and lay in hospital beds watching dark red blood circulate through the machines. I had never believed I would live long enough to see this day.
Ethan was an organ donation coordinator. More than anyone, he understood what that kidney meant to me.
But a week later, he came home looking exhausted and handed me a new report.
"I'm sorry, honey." His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "The kidney was contaminated during transport. It can no longer be used."
In that instant, my entire world collapsed.
I sank to the floor, every ounce of strength gone. I couldn't even make myself cry.
Ethan knelt before me and pulled me tightly into his arms, his eyes red-rimmed. "It's my fault. I couldn't save that kidney for you. But don't give up. I'll keep looking. I'll find another one. I promise."
For the next 3 months, I moved through life in a numb haze, trapped in unbearable pain.
Ethan turned down all his work and stayed by my side, taking care of me.
It wasn't until today, after he saw that I had calmed down, that he said he needed to return to the office to handle some work.
Staring at the photo, I bit hard into the webbing of my hand until I tasted blood.
Once I had steadied myself, I sent the anonymous account a private message.
Nina: Is everything you said true?
Aksara