I spent two years as a human punching bag in underground fight clubs. Finally scraped together enough for my son's surgery. Then my wife gave it away to her childhood friend. For the fifth time. Fifty thousand dollars. Not a penny more, not a penny less. But this time, my organs were wrecked beyond repair. I'd never earn another fifty grand. I cornered Harvey in his hospital room, still clutching my bloody boxing gloves. "Give me back my son's money! He's dying of heart failure!" Vivian sighed. She convinced Harvey to return it. But the day Ryan was rushed into emergency surgery, the payment bounced. Insufficient funds. That same day, Harvey updated his social media. [Some psycho tried to scare me today. Good thing I've got this $50k watch to cheer me up. My girl's the best—real ones know how to treat their childhood friends right!] I called Vivian over and over. When she finally picked up, all I got was a lecture. "Jason, you were too aggressive that day. You terrified Harvey so badly that he had an episode. I need to stay with him while he recovers." "I'm a doctor—I know Ryan's condition better than anyone. He's not that fragile. He can hold on a little longer." "Once my research grant comes through, I'll get him into surgery immediately." I hung up. Calm. Empty. With what little money I had left, I purchased a double burial plot. Holding my son's cold, stiffening body, I sent Vivian one last text. "Vivian. I want a divorce." I'd barely confirmed the burial plot when Vivian's call came through. "Stop being dramatic, Jason. Harvey had a heart attack that day—you scared him half to death. His condition was way more critical than Ryan's." "Ryan has a chronic condition. A few more days won't hurt." "Once Harvey stabilizes, I'll figure out the money for surgery." Critical? How critical could a man be if he just bought a fifty-thousand-dollar watch? All I could see was Ryan's face in those final moments. He'd tugged weakly at my sleeve. "Daddy... if Mommy comes, will the pain stop?" "It's okay if it hurts. I just want her to visit me... I want to see her one more time before I fall asleep." He never got to. My throat tightened. "We don't need your help anymore." "Vivian, answer me honestly. Does Harvey matter more to you than your own husband and son?" Her voice was sharp with impatience. "Jason, Harvey and I have been friends for decades. He got his heart condition because he shielded me from human traffickers when we were kids. They beat him so badly his heart never recovered." "I owe him. Can't you just understand that?" In the background, I heard Harvey's whiny complaint. "Your husband bothering you again? God, he's so annoying. Can't he grow up?" Vivian's tone softened immediately. "You're right, you're right. No one's as good as you." "Don't get worked up, baby. Your heart can't take it." Then Harvey sent me a private message. "Yo, Jason, I just overheard. Actually, Vivian's got money—she just dumps it all into research. I suggested she 'borrow' yours instead." "Didn't think she'd actually go through with it lol. If you really need it back ASAP, I can tell her to return it." "She's being kinda shitty to you, not gonna lie. Want me to yell at her for you?" Tears dripped onto my phone screen. Every time Vivian got her hospital bonus, Harvey would "borrow" it for his treatments. She always said she owed him. That she'd do anything he asked. So when Ryan got worse and we had no money, I had no choice. I became a punching bag to pay for surgery. My phone buzzed. A message from the fight club manager. "Jason. Got a big spender tonight. Yeah, he hits hard—but he pays harder. One hour and you'll have enough for your kid's surgery. You coming or not? Offer won't last." Before, I would've jumped at this. No matter how badly my insides were already damaged, I was always first in line. Now, Ryan's cold body pressed against me like ice seeping into my bones. "Not coming." "Never again." I ignored the flood of question marks that followed. The morgue was freezing. Ryan hated the cold. He must be so uncomfortable. I forced a smile at the nurse. "Could I borrow a blanket? My son gets cold easily." The nurse's face softened with pity. She brought me a brand-new fleece blanket. "Here, sir. Let the little one rest comfortably." I whispered my thanks. She waved it off. "If you want to thank someone, thank Dr. Vivian Parker from our hospital. She's got a friend staying here as a patient." "To make sure we'd take extra good care of him, Dr. Parker spent thousands on gifts for the entire staff. This blanket alone costs a few hundred dollars." "Spending that much on him? I bet he's her boyfriend." I froze. I thought of those days when Ryan was dying—when I went on my knees begging doctors for help, scraping together pennies, drowning in desperation. Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them. "Yeah. Thanks to Dr. Parker." My hands shook as I wrapped Ryan in the blanket. The nurse looked at me with unbearable sympathy. "Where's the child's mother? Why isn't she here at a time like this? If she could've scraped together the money, you wouldn't have lost him to something as treatable as surgery..." I smiled bitterly. "His mother? She's gone." The nurse started to apologize, then fell silent. She didn't know what else to say. As I stumbled through the paperwork, I turned a corner—and ran straight into Vivian. She was rushing down the hall, pushing Harvey in a wheelchair at full speed. She barreled into me so hard I slammed sideways into the wall. "Get out of the way!" My head cracked against the concrete. Blood trickled down my forehead. Vivian didn't even glance back to see who she'd hit. She just kept running, screaming at a doctor up ahead. "Dr. Walker! Harvey needs a cardiac exam—NOW!" I slid down the wall, curling into myself as pain wracked my body. I sat there for a long time. Eventually, Harvey came back with Vivian in tow. "See? I told you that you hit someone. You should apologize. The doctor said I'm fine—I'm a grown man, I can handle a little scare." He glanced down. His eyes met mine. "Oh. Wait... the guy you just mowed down is Jason?"
Vivian's face shifted. Guilt flickered across her expression as she reached down to help me up. But Harvey's eyes glinted. He cut in smoothly. "Jason, Vivian barely touched you. Why'd you fall over like that? You mad because she came with me to the doctor? Don't be so petty, man." He gave Vivian a little nudge. "Go on. Go make up with him." Vivian's outstretched hand froze mid-air. She frowned at me instead. "Seriously, Jason? I didn't even push you that hard. Are you really throwing a tantrum over fifty thousand dollars again?" My heart felt like it had turned to ice. I braced myself against the wall and tried to stand, but my legs buckled. I stumbled forward—toward Harvey. He jerked back immediately, pinching his nose. "Dude, what is that smell? You reek." "Vivian's a doctor, for God's sake. Jason, look at yourself..." Vivian wrinkled her nose in disgust, taking in my exhausted, filthy appearance. "Jason, you're a mess. You seriously stink. Why didn't you go home and shower?!" Since Ryan died, I'd been holding him. Holding him until his body started to decompose. Rage boiled up inside me. I wanted to scream at her. "Yeah. That's the smell of YOUR son." But before I could, a nurse walked by and lit up at the sight of Vivian. "Oh! Dr. Parker! I thought you were off today. What are you doing here?" The nurse's curious gaze bounced between the three of us before landing on me. "And who's this?" For years, Vivian insisted that doctors needed to avoid nepotism. She said if people at the hospital knew she had a son and was still doting on Harvey, there'd be rumors. People would talk. So she never told anyone at work about Ryan or me. Vivian's expression darkened. Panic flashed in her eyes. "Oh. Harvey's staying here as a patient. This is... the caregiver I hired for him." I stood there, frozen. Every word I wanted to say died in my throat. Once the nurse was out of earshot, Vivian exhaled in relief. She stepped toward me, trying to pull me into a hug. "Jason, I didn't mean it like that. Doctors just have to maintain a certain image—" I laughed. Cold and bitter. "What image?" Harvey snorted. "Come on, Jason. Vivian's a respected doctor at this hospital. Look at you—you're dressed like a homeless guy. You want people to know she's married to that? You'd embarrass her." Vivian said nothing. Her silence was agreement. I clenched my faded, threadbare shirt in my fists. My eyes locked onto the diamond-studded watch glittering on Harvey's wrist. That watch was bought with my broken body. With my son's life. The hatred inside me exploded. I swung. But before my fist even touched him, Harvey let out a bloodcurdling scream. "Vivian! My heart—it hurts! Don't let him hit me!" CRACK. Before I could process what happened, Vivian's hand flew across my face. The slap sent my world spinning. I tasted copper. She cradled Harvey in her arms like he was made of glass. "Jason! You KNOW Harvey has a bad heart—and you still tried to hurt him?!" I pressed my hand to my bleeding nose, glaring at him with pure hatred. "His heart's bad? What about Ryan? MY son has end-stage heart failure!" "I could beat him to death with my bare hands, and it still wouldn't be enough!" Harvey clutched his chest dramatically, gasping. "I'm so scared, Vivian..." Vivian's face went cold. She grabbed me by the hair and yanked—hard. "You wouldn't DARE." My scalp tore. I felt warm blood trickling down. My phone slipped from my pocket and clattered to the floor. The screen lit up with a notification—a payment confirmation from the cemetery. Vivian's eyes narrowed. She shoved me hard against the wall. "What the hell is this, Jason? Are you so desperate to hurt me that you'd curse our own son?!"
She rushed Harvey to his hospital room, cradling him like he was made of glass. "Tell Ryan to wait for me. I'll perform the surgery myself. He'll be perfectly healthy!" "Once I'm done here, I'll spend quality time with you two. I promise." I thought of the past two years—Ryan suffering through his illness, always so optimistic, always comforting me. "It's okay, Daddy. Don't be sad. Mommy's a super amazing doctor. She'll make me all better." He trusted Vivian so completely. And he'd never see her again. I coughed up blood. The bitterness flooded my mouth. I bought cheap painkillers and left the hospital to handle Ryan's paperwork. I scraped together just enough for the final payment on the burial plot. But when the payment went through, my card declined. My hands shook as I swiped the thin piece of plastic over and over. "Please, try again. This can't be right... I just deposited the money!" The cemetery staff just shook their heads. I frantically opened my banking app. The screen showed a cold, merciless "0." All the blood drained from my face. I immediately called Vivian. "Vivian! If you need money for Harvey's treatments, use your OWN! Give mine back!" Her voice was sharp with irritation. "All my money's tied up in research! I'll pay you back when my grant comes through! After what you did to Harvey yesterday—putting him back in the hospital—you've got some nerve asking for money!" My eyes burned red. I screamed into the phone. "GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!" "Vivian, you take this money—aren't you afraid you and Harvey will be cursed?!" My words set her off. "If you need money so badly, why did you turn down that shift your boss offered you?" "He contacted me to convince you not to pass up such a good opportunity. I felt bad for you working so hard." "So if you're this desperate, why didn't you take it?" I froze. I never expected the fight club manager to contact her. My organs twisted in agony. "Vivian... if I go back there, they'll beat me to death." I'd never told Vivian or Ryan what I really did for money. I didn't want them to worry. But I couldn't understand—Vivian could care so much about a childhood friend, yet not give a damn whether her husband and son lived or died. I begged. My voice broke. "Please. I'm begging you. I can't go back there. Please just give me the money." She went silent for a moment. Then finally relented. "Fine. I'll transfer it to you." I hung up, relief flooding through me. I could buy Ryan's plot now. I waited all day. All evening. The money never came. Instead, the fight club manager called me. "Where are you? Your wife said you agreed to come back. I'm coming to pick you up. You're still the best punching bag we've got—the regulars are asking for you by name." "She already took a 30% deposit. You back out now, I'll kill you myself." My phone kept buzzing with messages from the hospital. "Mr. Parker, the morgue can't hold bodies indefinitely. Please complete your son's paperwork and make arrangements soon." The setting sun bled red across the sky. I called the fight club manager back, my voice hollow. "Okay. I'll come." I asked how much I'd make after the deposit. The number he gave me wasn't enough for a double plot. Only enough for a single grave. I pulled my lips into something like a smile. Then I'll use this broken body one last time. At least Ryan will have a resting place.
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