Our Vows Were Fake, Theirs Were Real

Chapter 3

"Take it out on me if you have to," Timothy snapped. "Mia's sick. She can't handle this kind of stress."

His voice shook with anger. "How could you treat her like that? Do you have any empathy at all?"

That was the man I had loved for ten years. The man I gave my entire youth to. And now he was standing there, blaming me for being heartless? How ridiculous.

A few years ago, when he was dying from acute liver failure, it was me who gave up a part of myself, literally, to save his life. I donated my liver. I nearly died for him.

While I was recovering in the hospital, my grandfather got up at the crack of dawn every single day to cook for us. He spent three hours commuting back and forth just to care for us both. He was over seventy at the time.

Timothy held my hand back then, tears in his eyes, and swore he'd never betray me. He knelt before my grandfather and promised he'd cherish me, protect me, and never let me suffer.

And now? Just a few years later, he broke every single one of those promises. He let my grandfather die heartbroken. He betrayed me. And now he had the audacity to call me cruel?

I glared at him.

"You're the ungrateful one, Timothy."

His face stiffened, discomfort flickering across his features. Before he could respond, Mia stepped forward, her tone icy and condescending.

"Evie, why do you keep bringing up the past? What's done is done."

She gave a hollow laugh. "And anyway, even if you hadn't donated your liver, someone else would've. You just used Timothy's guilt to manipulate him. You knew he didn't love you. But you still clung to him, using your so-called sacrifice to get what you wanted."

I stared at her, stunned. She wasn't done.

"When Timothy was dying, the Gage family did everything they could, and still couldn't find a donor. I couldn't stand watching him suffer, so I agreed to donate my liver. I was ready to give him everything. That's real love."

I turned to Timothy, my voice quiet but sharp.

"Is that what you think too?"

He looked away. Said nothing. And in that silence, I got my answer.

Fine. I had nothing more to say. This whole conversation had turned everything I'd ever done into a cruel joke.

But they weren't finished with me.

"Evie," Mia said sweetly, "Timothy and I already got our marriage certificate. Don't you think it's inappropriate for you to keep living here?"

I hadn't planned on staying anyway. But the way she said it, like she was throwing me out of my own life, made something snap inside me.

Sure, the house was under Timothy's name. But it was my grandfather who used his entire life savings to renovate it. He didn't want people to look down on me, so he did everything he could to make it feel like home.

I picked every piece of furniture. I decorated every room. This house was my dream.

I turned to Timothy.

"This what you want too?"

He coughed, trying to mask his discomfort. He couldn't even meet my eyes.

"Mia just wants a place to live," he muttered. "Please, Evie… just let us have it."

Wow. Just… wow.

A bitter laugh rose in my throat.

I suddenly grabbed the chair next to me and hurled it at the glass cabinet, shattering it into a hundred pieces.

"If I decorated it, then I can destroy it too!"

Timothy jumped. Mia shrieked, and collapsed.

He rushed to her side and scooped her up without hesitation. Just before walking out the door, he turned back with a cold glare.

"Evie Joe, if anything happens to Mia… I'll never forgive you."