My Donor Bone Marrow

Chapter 2 Bleeding for the Fake Savior

The nurse removed the needle and pressed gauze to my arm. The bag hung from the IV stand, filled with my blood and labeled for Mia Stone.

Liam came back and looked straight at the bag. His shoulders eased, the way they did after he closed a difficult deal.

He took a gold-plated checkbook from his suit. Its cover snapped open in the quiet room. He wrote a number, tore out the check, and held it between two fingers.

Then he tossed it at me.

The check landed beside my shaking hand. Seven figures filled the amount box.

“This should cover it. Payment for services rendered.” He buttoned his jacket. “Your blood isn’t worth much, but Mia needs it.”

*Services rendered.* Three years of marriage had become an invoice. To him, I was a source of cheap blood with his last name attached.

A cough doubled me over. Iron flooded my mouth, and blood sprayed across the sheet and the check.

Liam froze.

His eyes widened at the red stain. He stepped toward the bed before he seemed to notice he was moving. One hand rose halfway.

Once, when I had a cold, he would sit beside me and rub my back. I saw that old reflex in him for one second.

Then his hand stopped.

He glanced toward the hall and curled his hand into a fist. His face closed again.

“Pathetic.” His jaw set when he saw me watching him. “Stop the theatrics. You think a little blood will change my mind?”

He strode out and slammed the door. Tears ran into my hair, but I did not call him back.

The nurse sighed and turned to her supply cart for a basin and cloth.

That was my chance.

I had to live. Not for Liam or our marriage. I wanted enough time to make him answer for this.

A black hospital smartphone sat behind the sterile gauze on the cart’s lower shelf, probably issued to senior staff. It was close enough to reach and my only way to call outside.

I reached from beneath the blanket. My numb fingers missed once, then closed around the phone. I hid it under my pillow as the nurse turned back.

The monitor betrayed my racing pulse. I closed my eyes and let my head sink into the pillow. I barely had to pretend to be exhausted.

Hours passed. The hall quieted until only the monitor kept time.

Then, a sound broke the silence.

*Click. Clack.*

High heels on the polished floor. No nurse walked that way.

The door swung open without a knock.

Mia Stone stood in the doorway, healthy and smiling. She wore a fitted silk robe instead of a patient gown. Her hair had been styled into glossy waves, and her makeup was fresh.

She looked ready for a photo shoot, not a recovery ward.

Her smile widened when she saw me lying in the white bed.