1 It was the seventh year since I’d escaped my family, the year I met the woman I thought was my soulmate. Her looks, her personality, even her tastes—everything about her was perfect for me. In our third month together, we decided on a destination wedding. The night before we were set to leave, I was scrolling idly through a forum and stumbled upon a post. [Late Night Vents: What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever agreed to do for a boyfriend?] I was about to swipe past it, but a reply from a user named “IndigoSky” caught my eye. [So many things. We were young and reckless, so I gave him everything. Got pregnant for him, had an abortion. Satisfied his every fantasy, wherever he wanted.] [But the most outrageous thing? I agreed to marry his brother.] Amid a sea of sympathetic replies, IndigoSky posted again. [Don’t feel sorry for me, everyone. My boyfriend has heart failure. Only his brother’s heart can save him.] [I’m going to help him get that heart. Then we’ll be together forever and ever.] I stared at her profile picture, at the tattoo on her chest that was an exact match to the one over my own heart. My world tilted, and my heart began to sink. … [Maybe we should cancel tomorrow’s flight.] It was three in the morning when I sent the message to my fiancée, Sophie. She replied almost instantly. [Why? Haven’t you been looking forward to our wedding trip for ages?] I sent her a quick photo I’d taken of the hospital, just as my doctor called me into his office. “Mr. Reed, given your physical condition, I really can’t recommend long-distance travel…” “Doctor, is Asher okay?” Before the doctor could finish, Sophie burst into the room, breathless. She was still in her pajamas, her eyes wide with a worry so deep it seemed bottomless. A shame it was all an act. No, that wasn't entirely true. The worry was real, but not for me. After all, if something happened to my health, her true love—my younger brother, Nathan—would lose his chance at a heart transplant. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I lowered my head. The doctor, misinterpreting my silence, played his part as usual, offering a comforting lie to Sophie. “He’s fine. It’s the same old issue. As long as he takes his medication, he’ll be alright.” “But I would still advise you to be cautious about this wedding trip.” Sophie nodded, volunteering to go pick up my prescription. When the white bottle was in her hand, her brow furrowed. “What’s this? I haven’t seen this one before.” “It’s for my stomach,” I lied smoothly. “The doctor said it’s gentler on my system.” But Sophie wasn't buying it. She took a picture of my medical report and sent it to a doctor friend of hers. For a split second, I almost convinced myself that the forum post had been a hallucination. Then her friend’s reply came back as a voice note, and she accidentally played it on speaker. “Relax. That medication is for heart failure, but it’s sometimes used for stomach issues too.” “Besides, your Asher gets a full check-up every month, and he gets a clean bill of health every single time.” “That heart of his is so strong you could probably smash rocks on it and it would be fine…” Sophie frantically cut the audio off, but my heart had already plunged into an icy abyss. Of course. She wasn’t worried about me. I reached for a cigarette, needing to get out, but she plucked it from my fingers. “You shouldn’t smoke if you’re not feeling well.” “And… maybe we really should cancel the flight tomorrow?” I didn’t answer. Just then, a text message notification lit up my phone. [Mr. Asher Reed, your one-million-dollar accidental death and dismemberment policy is now active.] [This policy is valid for one week and offers a maximum payout of three million dollars.] Three million… The cost of a heart transplant surgery was exactly three million dollars. It seemed Sophie really, truly loved Nathan. She’d even factored in the surgical fees. Noticing the dark look on my face, Sophie rushed to explain. “Asher, don’t overthink it. A friend of mine sells insurance, and I was just helping her meet her sales quota.” “And I bought one for myself, too! See…” I cut her off. “It’s late. Go home and get some rest.” “I’ll see you at the airport in the morning.” 2 My family was a catastrophe. My father was a violent drunk and a compulsive gambler. When I was seven, he backhanded my little brother during a drunken rage, and that was the last straw for my mother. She filed for divorce. In court, she took my younger brother, Nathan. I dragged my leg, which my father had also broken, to the train station to see them off. My mother cupped my face in her hands and whispered that she was sorry. She told me to hold on, to wait for the day she would come back for me. I waited for ten years. I waited until my drunk of a father stumbled, fell into a roadside ditch, and drowned. Only then did a social worker help me contact the mother I had longed for all those years. She had remarried. She was draped in designer clothes, and my brother had transformed into a polished, privileged young man. But when the subject of me coming to live with them came up, they both became evasive. In the end, I was sent to a boarding school. I was an outcast, constantly bullied, but it was better than the life I’d known, a life of never knowing where my next meal was coming from. Three years later, I was accepted into a top-tier university. On the day the acceptance letters went out, my mother, who had never once visited me, showed up in a luxury car. She said the Vaughn family—her new family—was throwing a party to officially welcome me home. She handed me a drink herself. A welcome-home toast. I woke up in a prison cell, told I had killed someone in a high-speed street race. Meanwhile, the real heir of the Vaughn family, my brother, had assumed my identity and was attending that top-tier university in my place. Nathan was sent to a prestigious school abroad. I spent ten years in prison. When I got out, I changed my name and fought my way up from nothing to build the life I have now. Then Sophie came to my company for an interview. She told me her family had always treated her like a "blood bag," a resource to be used, and that she just wanted to live for herself for once. I saw a reflection of my younger self in her. I broke my own rules and hired her on the spot. Sophie didn't disappoint. Within a week, she had mastered her duties. Within a month, she was indispensable. The day before her probationary period ended, she confronted a colleague who was taking kickbacks and ended up in the hospital after a heated argument. The colleague was connected to one of our most important corporate partners. Before I could even intervene, Sophie submitted her resignation. A month later, I found her working at a late-night food stall, being harassed by a drunk. I stepped in. We spent that night talking at the police station, opening our hearts to each other. That’s when we started our relationship. The more time I spent with her, the more certain I was that she was the one. But my past made me terrified of marriage. I could never bring myself to take that final step. Until a week ago, when Sophie came to me, her face glowing with joy, holding up a positive pregnancy test. Suddenly, all I wanted was a family. If it hadn't been for that post... My alarm blared, and I wiped the tears from my eyes before driving to the airport. While I was waiting for Sophie in the terminal, IndigoSky updated her comment thread. [That was close. For a second, I thought the heart I worked so hard for was about to slip away.] [Good thing I’m smart. I used a little reverse psychology and calmed him down.] [I even made him a special breakfast. I’m sure he’ll be really touched when he sees it!] “Asher, you haven’t eaten, have you? Look what I brought you!” I hadn’t even finished reading the comment when Sophie appeared before me, holding a lunchbox. It was identical to the one in the picture IndigoSky had just posted. My appetite vanished. “I already ate. You can have it.” I turned and walked toward the security gate alone. A flicker of disappointment crossed Sophie’s face, but she quickly caught up. I didn’t say another word to her until we were in our seats on the plane. Even when she tried to lean in and talk to me, I just turned my head away and pretended to be asleep. I heard her let out a faint, almost inaudible sigh beside me. All I felt was a chilling cold.
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