Donated My Cornea to His Beloved

chapter 3

Lila strutted into the bedroom, her voice dripping with saccharine mockery.

"Gene, I"ve called her so many times. She"s blaming us for taking her corneas, refusing to come out, no matter what I say."

Her voice was like poison, twisting everything to drive Gene Wells even further away from me.

It was clear this might be my only chance to get something to eat.

Desperate, I tried to get out of bed, but as soon as my feet hit the floor, I collapsed.

Just before I lost consciousness, I heard someone yelling my name in panic.

Gene Wells.

Did he actually care, despite everything?

When I woke up again, I was hooked up to an IV.The cool herbal wrap on my eyes eased the burning discomfort, offering a small comfort amidst the pain.

"Is anyone here?"I called out, hoping for some company.

"Jennifer, do you really think this will make me forgive you?" Gene"s voice was icy and unyielding.

"Do you think that playing the victim and showing weakness in front of Lila will make me change my mind?"

"Don"t be so naive.My heart belongs to her, and it always will."

His words stung, leaving me speechless. Gene Wells had always been so sure of himself. esbeciallv when it came to his feelings.

"If you love her, then just marry her, "I murmured, trying to steady my voice.

He was right, of course.

In every choice between Lila and me, he had always chosen her.

And here I was, merely a spectator in their love story, a silent witness to their romance.

A while later, a nurse came in to change my bandages.Seeing how pale and weak I was, she couldn"t hide her concern.

"Your fainting was due to low blood sugar.You need to eat better.You"re already too thin."

Her care brought a flicker of warmth to my heart. Since my mother passed away, this was the second time I felt genuinely cared for-both times in a hospital.

After thanking the nurse, my surgeon came by and gave me a thorough scolding. Then he prescribed some anti- inflammatory medication. He was the top doctor Gene Wells had chosen after an extensive search.

His expertise was undeniable, and his words were a harsh but necessary wake- up call.

“If you don"t want your eyes, go ahead and keep messing around. You won"t even be able to get a transplant in the future."

Knowing Gene Wells, it was inevitable that he would leave me hanging for hours. Only when I"m on the verge of breaking down will he drive to the hospital to pick me up.

This time, I wised up and had a passerby take me to a public bench to wait for him.

Bored and restless, I noticed someone sit down beside me. The familiar voice, warm and soothing, broke through my haze."Need any help?"

I Iooked up, my heart pounding. It was him.

I hesitated, then managed a weak, "No, thank you."

“Jennifer, you really don"t remember me?"

His voice, tinged with disappointment, cracked through my foggy memory.

"No."

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady, but it faltered.

For a moment, he looked devastated. But then his determination seemed to renew.

"It"s fine. I remember you."

"Jennifer, what happened to your eyes?"

My fingers fidgeted nervously as I gazed into the void. "I gave them away to pay off a debt."

A debt forced upon me, an absurd ten- year penance for a mistake I could never erase.

"Come with me.I can help you."

"When I was young, you helped me. Now that I"m a big shot with connections and status, I can repay the favor for you."

His voice trembled with emotion, pulling me into his earnest plea.

I remembered a hot summer long ago. A ragged beggar appeared outside our school, a victim of scorn and cruelty.

Gene Wells and I had walked past him. He didn"t spare the boy a glance.

I felt a pang of sympathy and reached out to him.

Gene Wells was already showing great promise in middle school and was quite well-known.With him making a name for himself, those people wouldn"t be so bored in the future. But he only pushed my hand away, his eyes filled with disdain."Don"t get involved. People will do anything for money."

"How can you tell if he"s a genuine beggar or just pretending?"

When someone raised a foot to kick the boy, I stepped in front of him, taking the blow myself.

The crowd finally dispersed, their bravado fading in the face of Gene Wells" dark, commanding presence.

The beggar, with a grateful bow, thanked me, and I gave him my spare change.

He vanished as suddenly as he"d appeared.

"I"m Ethan. My parents went abroad and forgot to take me back."

"If you hadn"t given me those eight dollars, I might never have gotten home."

I lowered my eyes, feeling a rush of warmth.There was someone out there who had kept me in their thoughts for all these years.

"Come with me. I can take you to America and help you get your eyes treated."

His offer was genuine, free of any pretense.

Trust or skepticism didn"t matter now.

His hopeful eyes were locked on mine, waiting for me to decide.

"I appreciate your kindness, but I can"t leave yet. My revenge is not yet complete."