When I finally drifted back into consciousness, the world felt cold. Evie, the girl I had spent my entire life protecting, was drowning in a sea of corporate betrayal and public scandal. Worse, her heart was failing—a ticking clock that threatened to end her story before it truly began. Then, a voice flickered in the back of my mind, cold and mechanical. “System online. Host, do you choose to save Evie Pierce?” I didn’t hesitate. I never did when it came to her. To save her life, I gave her my own heart. Or rather, I traded my healthy one for an experimental, mechanical replacement that left me a ghost of the man I used to be. While I was still recovering, I spent every waking hour—and every cent of my savings—building the empire she’d always dreamed of. I drank myself into stomach ulcers and internal bleeding at high-stakes galas just to secure the Series A funding that put her company on the map. But on the night her company went public on the NYSE, Evie didn't stand by my side. Instead, she announced her engagement to Jasper Knight—the man who had shattered her heart years ago. When I confronted her, heart heavy with a betrayal I couldn't breathe through, she just brushed me off. "It’s just a strategy, Adrian," she said, her voice smooth as silk. "I’m just playing him. I want him to feel exactly what I felt when he left." But then my mechanical heart began to fail. I needed a second surgery, a desperate fix. And as I lay outside the operating room, I heard her hushed, frigid command to the surgeon: "Don't prioritize him. Let him go. Once he’s gone, his kidneys will be a perfect match for Jasper." 1. I stared at the peeling paint on the hospital ceiling, my breath so thin it barely fogged the oxygen mask. The room was old, crumbling at the edges, much like my own body. “Connection levels dropping below 30%. Mission failure imminent.” My dry, cracked lips twitched into a phantom of a smirk. Failure? No, this wasn't a drop. This was a total collapse. I remembered two months ago. Her "affection meter"—or whatever the hell this voice in my head called it—had been at 98%. I had spent eight years of my life, minute by minute, sacrifice by sacrifice, building that number. I actually thought she loved me. I guess I was the only one buying into the lie. “Host is urged to re-engage. Failure results in permanent cessation of life.” The mechanical voice was as indifferent as the woman standing in the hallway. "How much longer does he have?" I heard Evie ask. Her voice was low, clinical. "At least a month, if we manage the symptoms," the doctor replied. I closed my eyes, a bitter laugh rattling in my chest. She was already calculating my expiration date. She wasn't looking for a miracle; she was looking for a timeline. "Fine," Evie said. "Keep him stable. Don't waste the premium meds on him. We need to save the resources." I whispered into the void of my mind, “Can I end this? I don’t want to play anymore.” The voice paused, a rare glitch in its processing. “Option available. Do you wish to terminate the mission?” The suffocating weight that had been crushing my lungs for years finally lifted. I actually smiled. "End it," I rasped. “Termination request accepted. Seven-day countdown to cessation begins now.” The moment the words echoed in my skull, a metallic sweetness flooded my throat. I coughed, a violent spray of crimson blooming across the pristine white duvet. The heart monitor beside me began to shriek, a high-pitched alarm that tore through the silence of the ward. Through the haze, the door burst open. Evie rushed in, her face a mask of panicked concern. Her breathing was ragged, her eyes wide. "Doctor! Get in here!" she screamed, playing the part of the grieving, devoted partner to perfection. I struggled to keep my eyes open, watching her. It was strange. Even now, at the very end, she still looked like the girl I’d loved since we were kids. But as the darkness pulled at the edges of my vision, I realized her panic wasn't for me. It was for the donor she wasn't finished with yet. I let go. The world went black. When I woke up again, Evie was nowhere to be found. Two nurses were quietly moving around the room. "The guy in the VIP wing is so lucky," one whispered, her voice tinged with envy. "Just a bit of a stomach ache and his girlfriend is losing her mind." "You don't know who that is?" the other replied. "That’s Evie Pierce. The tech mogul. She’s been at his bedside for twenty-four hours, hand-feeding him soup. It's like something out of a movie." I licked my lips, the simple movement sent a jolt of pain through my throat. My mind drifted back. I remembered the nights I’d spent vomiting blood after business dinners I attended in her place. She’d stand by the bed, tossing a pack of over-the-counter pills onto the nightstand. "I ordered some meds on UberEats, Adrian. Just hang in there. This contract is too important for me to miss the meeting." The memories were like glass shards in my brain. The questions I had spent years suppressed suddenly began to cut deep. It wasn't that her love had faded. It was that it had never existed. I wasn't from this world. I’d died in another life and ended up here, reborn into this story with no memory of my past until the "System" woke up. I’d fallen for Evie because she was the girl next door who had "saved" me from bullies when we were kids. I was just a foster kid living with a distant aunt, and she was the sun I orbited. When her parents died and her family's company was gutted, she was the one dying in a hospital bed. That was when the System kicked in, telling me I could save her. I thought my devotion would be enough. I thought if I gave everything, I’d get a sliver of her heart in return. The door creaked open. Evie walked in carrying a thermos. "Adrian? You're awake." She set the thermos down and reached out, pressing her palm to my forehead. "You've still got a fever. Why aren't you resting?" I looked at her. It was the same face, but she felt like a stranger. She took my hand, her eyes rimmed with red. "You were out for a day and a night. You scared me to death." For a second, a tiny, pathetic part of me wanted to believe her. Maybe she wasn't that heartless. "The doctors said there isn't a compatible mechanical heart available for the swap yet," she said softly, her voice dripping with artificial sympathy. "You just have to wait a little longer." I stared into her eyes. They were beautiful, filled with a mimicry of worry. But I knew the truth. A high-end replacement was a phone call away for someone with her net worth. She wasn't waiting for a heart. She was waiting for me to die so she could harvest what was left of me for Jasper. Her phone buzzed. she glanced at it, and immediately started to stand up. "Can you stay?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Just for a bit. My chest... it hurts." She froze. She didn't even look up from her screen as she typed a reply. When she finally turned to me, the mask slipped. The impatience in her eyes was sharp enough to draw blood. "Adrian, don't be difficult. If it hurts, call the nurse. I have things to take care of. I’ll be back when I’m done." The pain in my chest flared, sharper than any mechanical failure. She didn't notice. She was already halfway out the door. What were those eight years? What was any of it? Maybe it was just the lingering ghost of the man I used to be, but I couldn't stop myself from calling out one last time. "Evie." She stopped, her body already leaning toward the hallway. She looked back over her shoulder. "What?" "Do you love me?" She went still. A beat of silence stretched between us. Then, she spoke. "Of course I do." In my head, the mechanical voice chimed in, colder than ice: “Warning. Connection level -10.” I gripped the bedsheets until my knuckles turned white. Even her lies were starting to cost her. 2. Midnight. Outside the window, fireworks erupted, casting flickering shadows across the sterile walls of my room. Evie’s Instagram updated. “He told me he was hurting, so I wanted to bring a little light into his world. 99 fireworks for the man who deserves the moon.” The photo showed Jasper sitting up in a VIP hospital bed, the sky behind him exploding in gold and violet. The shot was intimate. He was looking at the camera, a smirk playing on his lips. The comments from her inner circle—the people who had always looked down on me—were already rolling in. "Jasper is so lucky. Evie, you're the best." "Finally, the power couple is back together!" "Matches made in heaven. So happy for you two!" My hand shook as I scrolled. My finger slipped, accidentally hitting the 'like' button. I panicked, trying to undo it, but the post vanished instantly. A second later, a text from Evie popped up. “Adrian, why are you still up? That post was just PR to keep Jasper’s investors happy. Don't overthink it. And don't be jealous.” I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. I didn't know what to say. Then, another message arrived. Not from Evie. From Jasper. It was a screenshot of Evie's private story—the one I was blocked from seeing. It was a montage of them. Candid photos, wine nights, them laughing in the back of a limo. Jasper: “Know your place, Adrian. Stop clinging to a woman who doesn't belong to you.” Jasper: “She’s the one asking me to marry her now. Just thought you should know.” My vision blurred. A dull roar filled my ears. Whenever Evie talked about Jasper to me, it was always with "hatred." They had been the "it" couple in college, engaged and everything. Then her family went bankrupt. Jasper hadn't just left; he’d run. He found a wealthy heiress and dumped Evie with a two-hundred-dollar check and a slap to the face. "You're a charity case now, Evie. Don't call me again. You're beneath me." On the day of our engagement, Jasper had sent a cake. Evie had smashed it on the floor, her face twisted in disgust. And yet, here she was. Deleting posts the second I saw them, curating a private world for him while keeping me in a box. The "hatred" was just a cover for the fact that she could never let him go. I felt the last of my strength drain away. I went to my profile and changed my avatar—a photo of us together—to a blank white square. I looked at the date. Five days left. The fireworks were still going off outside. They sounded like gunshots. Being sick is a slow, heavy process, but the time seemed to bleed away. Evie didn't come back. Jasper, however, made sure I was kept in the loop. Every two hours, he sent a new update of their "domestic bliss." He sent a photo of their living room. A massive, blown-up portrait of their "wedding shoot" was already hanging on the wall. When we got engaged, I’d suggested taking photos. I’d spent weeks researching studios. Evie had just rolled her eyes. "I hate stuff like that, Adrian. It’s performative. It’s meaningless." Apparently, it wasn't meaningless when it was Jasper. With one day left on my clock, Evie finally showed up. She looked exhausted but moved with a cold, relentless authority. "Tomorrow," she said, not looking at me. "You’re coming to my wedding." I didn't need the System to tell me there was no love left in her voice. Just a command. "I don't want to go." She bit her lip, that familiar flash of annoyance crossing her features. "Jasper wants you there. You have to come. You told me once you’d do anything for my happiness, didn't you?" I looked at her, truly looking at her, wondering how I’d ever seen a soul in those eyes. She claimed this was all revenge, but I was the only one being punished. A violent coughing fit seized me. Blood flecked my chin. She didn't move. She didn't even flinch. She just glanced at her watch. "The doctor says you're stable enough. Stop the drama, Adrian. I'll have a car pick you up tomorrow." She left, and the silence of the room felt like a tomb. “System. Can I choose the exact moment?” The voice was flat. “Yes.” "Good." I closed my eyes, a strange sense of peace settling over me. The next day, I was escorted to the venue. The decorations were breathtaking—and hauntingly familiar. It was the exact design I had put together for our wedding, three years ago. Jasper appeared behind me, his voice dripping with smug triumph. "I found these plans in a box of your stuff when we were clearing out the villa. I thought they were decent, so I used them. You should be flattered." I turned to look at him. He was wearing a suit that cost more than my first car. He leaned in, whispering so only I could hear. "See? The moment I came back, she came crawling. She doesn't care about you, you pathetic lapdog." I felt a surge of revulsion and stepped back. He took the opportunity to throw himself backward, collapsing onto the floor with an exaggerated cry. "Adrian! I know you hate me, but you can't just push me!" My eyes widened. Before I could speak, Evie charged out from the wings, shoving me aside so hard I hit the wall. She knelt by Jasper, her voice frantic. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Then she turned to me. Her eyes were like shards of ice. "How dare you? Who gave you the right to touch my husband?" Jasper clutched his chest, shooting me a wink from behind her shoulder. I looked down at my shaking hands. "I didn't push him." "Jasper wouldn't lie about that," Evie said, her voice thick with disappointment. "I didn't realize you were this pathetic. Sit down and stay quiet for the ceremony. Don't make me regret bringing you." She led him away. I was forced into the front row by her security team. I could feel the eyes of her friends on me—pity, mockery, amusement. The ceremony was a blur of expensive flowers and hollow vows. Then came the toasts. Jasper took the mic, looking every bit the victor. "I want to thank one person specifically," he said, looking directly at me. "Adrian. Thank you for taking such good care of Evie while I was gone. You kept her warm for me. I’d love for you to come up here and share in our joy. Tell everyone how happy you are for us." The guests cheered. Evie looked at me, her expression dead. "Get up there, Adrian. You heard him." I stood up. My legs felt like lead. As I walked toward the stage, I spoke to the voice in my head. “System. Now. Let me go.” “Initiating self-destruct sequence. Countdown: 5... 4...” I reached the stage and took the microphone. I smiled. It was the first real smile I’d had in years. "3..." The room went silent. I couldn't hear the crowd anymore. I could only hear Evie and Jasper whispering to each other a few feet away. "Look at him, Evie," Jasper snickered. "He looks like a stray dog waiting for a scrap." "He is," she whispered back. "2..." "Do you still love him? Even a little?" Jasper asked. "No," she said, her voice clear and cold. "I never did. He was a foster kid with a savior complex. I used him. That’s all." "1..." I looked her in the eye. "Evie," I said, my voice steady through the speakers. "I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And I hope we never meet again—not in this life, or any other." “Mission failed. Host deceased.” A torrent of blood erupted from my mouth, splashing across her white designer gown. I saw the flash of pure, unadulterated horror in her eyes as my knees gave out. The world screamed, and then, finally, there was nothing.
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