She threw me out of the car on the interstate, in the dead of night, all because I wouldn’t give the passenger seat to her assistant. “You want to act so tough, Ethan? Fine. Walk home. Or die out here for all I care!” Two weeks later, a local news report about a homicide finally jogged her memory. “It’s been two weeks,” she’d muttered, annoyed. “Is he still throwing a tantrum? Does he plan on living on the highway forever?” Her head of security, Marcus, had to deliver the news. “Ma’am… Mr. Hayes… he was killed.” “Impossible!” she’d snapped. “I was just angry! I left the security detail watching him from a distance! How could he possibly be dead?” Marcus hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “Ms. Blackwood, Liam Cole ordered the detail to stand down. He said it was on your authority.” He took a shaky breath. “And… there’s something else. The autopsy report is back. The anonymous heart donor who saved you all those years ago… it was Mr. Hayes. Not Liam Cole…” 1 The shredded remains of the autopsy report rained down on Marcus’s face. Victoria Blackwood, my wife, looked at him as if he were a traitor. “You’ve got a lot of nerve,” she hissed, her voice a blade of ice. “Conspiring with him to lie to me?” Sweat beaded on Marcus’s forehead. “Ms. Blackwood, I swear! This is what the investigation uncovered. I wouldn’t dare fake something like this!” Victoria pointed a trembling finger at the paper confetti on the floor. “Let me tell you something. Ethan can fake his own death for attention, he can throw any tantrum he wants, but he will not use Liam’s heart as a bargaining chip in his pathetic games.” Her voice was low, seething with a protective fury that was never, ever meant for me. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for Liam to live with that artificial heart? The slightest chill could kill him! Does Ethan Hayes have no humanity? To steal the credit for something another man nearly died to do?” Marcus flinched. My soul, a weightless observer, hovered in the air. I almost laughed. Even now, after all this, she still believed Liam Cole was the one who had saved her. Marcus was loyal to a fault. He would never lie to her. He had to tell her the truth, even if she wouldn’t hear it. He swallowed hard, his loyalty warring with his fear. “Ma’am, Mr. Hayes’s autopsy shows… his heart was also artificial.” “Is that so?” Victoria’s smile was pure venom. “Well, if they’re going to the trouble of faking a report that detailed, they might as well go all the way.” She straightened her suit jacket, her expression hardening into something cruel and final. “Let’s make the story real. Make sure he’s dead.” She turned and walked away, leaving Marcus standing in the ruins of her office and my life. 2 Driving home, Victoria’s manicured nails tapped an incessant, agitated rhythm on the leather steering wheel. When she stopped at a red light, she, a woman renowned for her unshakable composure, slammed her fist down on the horn. She kept replaying the words from the report in her mind. “Anonymous heart donor…” A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She lit a slim cigarette, leaving a perfect crimson stain on the filter, her face a mask of irritation. “Ethan, Ethan, Ethan,” she murmured to the empty car. “Your little games are getting more and more pathetic.” The car’s sound system, which she usually kept on a low classical station, had been switched to a news channel. 【…and in a major breakthrough, Olympia City Police have solved the string of recent highway murders.】 【The criminal gang’s final crime took place on the Evergreen Parkway, where their victims were a young man and a five-year-old girl.】 【Authorities say the man, whose name has not yet been released, used himself as bait to draw the attackers’ attention, buying precious time for the girl to be rescued.】 【Tonight, we pay our deepest respects to this selfless hero.】 Victoria froze. She reached out and silenced the radio. Exhaling a plume of smoke, she sighed. “Probably his sister, or his daughter…” A sad smile touched my spectral lips. No, Victoria. I didn’t know her. I just knew that it was better for one life to end than two. So I hid the little girl in a culvert beneath the highway, called 911, and led them away. I thought I could hold on until help arrived. But… I was bleeding too much. The artificial heart just couldn’t keep up. Victoria’s hand, the one holding the cigarette, paused mid-air. “The Evergreen Parkway…” She frowned. That was where she’d left me. Flicking the cigarette butt out the window, she gunned the engine as the light turned green, a cold sneer on her face. “Impossible. A man like him? We should be grateful he’s not the one out there hurting innocent people.” 3 A week passed. I didn’t come home. It was only after she threw a lavish birthday party for Liam Cole that Victoria seemed to remember I existed. “What, is he really going to live on the parkway forever?” she asked Marcus, more annoyed than concerned. “Tell him the game is over. I had plenty of security watching him. He can’t fool me with some fake autopsy report.” Marcus hesitated, then decided the truth was the only path forward. “Ms. Blackwood… Liam Cole told my men to withdraw that night. He said… it was your order.” “Oh?” Victoria’s laugh was sharp and dismissive. “Are you telling me Liam forged my command?” He swallowed hard. It seemed Victoria had conveniently forgotten. Her personal security team answered to only two people. Her, and one other person to whom she had granted the highest level of clearance. It wasn't me, her husband. It was Liam Cole. “Impossible,” she said, her tone flat and final. “Only Ethan would stoop so low as to frame Liam with a lie like that. I gave Liam that authority precisely because I was afraid of what Ethan might do to him, out of jealousy. I knew he’d try to use his position as my husband to hurt him.” Her eyes narrowed. “Liam is not that kind of person. He would never do something so underhanded. Tell Ethan to stop trying to bribe my staff.” “Ms. Blackwood!” Marcus pleaded, his voice cracking. “I swear I haven't taken any money from Mr. Hayes!” Victoria held up a hand, silencing him. “You’ve been with me a long time, Marcus. I’ll allow this mistake once, maybe twice. A third time will have consequences. Think carefully about your next move.” A cold sweat broke out across his brow. 4 The moment she was out of the office, Victoria called my phone. Of course, I couldn't answer. After a dozen rings went to voicemail, she left a message. Her voice was strained, tight with forced patience. “You’ve been making a lot of trouble lately, Ethan. The passenger seat has a better view, and the open air is good for Liam’s health. I owe him my life; it’s my duty to take care of him. This is about gratitude, not an affair. Stop fixating on it. You’re a healthy man. Try to think of someone else for a change.” She paused, and just before hanging up, her voice softened almost imperceptibly. “Honey… you’ve been gone a little too long this time.” Putting the phone down, her gaze fell upon a black umbrella clutched by a mannequin in a store window. Her hand came to rest against the cool glass. It was like five years ago, all over again. She was in a red dress, heels clicking on the wet pavement as she hurried through the rain. I was walking the other way, holding a black umbrella, and as we passed, our eyes met. A spark. A moment. We both turned back to look. I didn’t know then that she was the woman who had received my heart. By the time I found out, Liam Cole was already by her side. But she must have remembered. She knew I loved black. And red. That day, my black umbrella had tilted just so, sheltering her head from the downpour. My birthday was in a week. And the mannequin… it had my build, my height. She was about to call the sales associate, to buy it, when her phone rang. It was Liam. “Victoria… I can’t breathe…” Her expression shifted instantly from wistful to panicked. “I’m on my way!” 5 In the sterile hospital room, Liam sipped the broth Victoria spoon-fed him. He managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Ms. Blackwood. I never thought the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar corporation would cook for anyone.” She brought another spoonful to his lips. “That depends on the man.” Even without a physical body, a phantom ache shot through my chest. Because I knew. That man wasn’t me. Liam’s gaze drifted to the long, elegantly wrapped umbrella leaning against the wall. “I hear you picked that out for Ethan. Are you sure it’s okay to give it to me?” Victoria paused for only a fraction of a second. “You said you liked it, too.” I had to smile at the tragedy of it all. He likes blue, Victoria. He only said he liked black after he heard you bought it for me. Don't you see that? I closed my eyes. A soul can’t do anything. I could only pray that whatever force governed the universe would let me dissipate, let me fade away, so I wouldn’t have to watch my own wife tear me down, piece by piece. 6 The story of my heroism spread through Olympia City. The organizers of the memorial service invited the city’s most prominent philanthropist to attend: Victoria Blackwood. She accepted without a second thought. As the city’s leading corporate citizen, she even offered to cover all the expenses for the memorial. No budget. A fitting tribute for a true hero. On the day of the service, she stood in the solemn, flower-filled hall. When she saw the name on the main placard—【In Loving Memory of Mr. Ethan Hayes】—her expression faltered. “The same last name…” she murmured. Then, a bitter smile. “If only my Ethan had half the character of this Mr. Hayes, we wouldn’t be where we are today.” It was just about repaying a debt to Liam. Why did he have to make it such an issue? She just couldn't understand. After paying her respects, the event organizer approached her, the primary benefactor. “Ms. Blackwood, someone has raised questions about the autopsy report, claiming it’s a fabrication. Should we… perform another one?” “Who’s questioning it?” Victoria’s brow furrowed. The organizer looked uncomfortable. “Well…” Victoria’s patience snapped. “This man’s face and body were mutilated by his attackers. The coroner did their best to make him whole again. Who in their right mind would want to subject him to that all over again, and for what reason?” The organizer wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. I sighed. The irony was suffocating. She had no idea. It was her own man, Marcus, who had requested the second autopsy, all because she refused to believe the first one. In the morgue, Victoria gave the final order. “Cremate him. Let him rest in peace.” “Would you like to see him one last time, Ms. Blackwood?” “No,” she said, a flicker of genuine empathy in her eyes. “No one would want to be remembered that way, stitched together and broken.” My body was pushed into the incinerator. After a final, respectful nod, Victoria walked out of the hall. “What’s trending with men these days?” she asked her new assistant. The assistant, startled, quickly recovered. “For Mr. Cole, it’s always high-end luxury. Patek Philippe, Louis Vuitton…” “I meant for Ethan.” The assistant blinked. “You’re buying a gift for Mr. Hayes?” “Yes,” Victoria sighed. “There’s been… a misunderstanding between us. This isn’t just for his birthday. It’s an apology.” She patted the assistant’s shoulder. “I’m leaving this to you. The budget is unlimited. Get it done.” “Yes, Ms. Blackwood!” Behind her, my ashes were being sealed in an urn. 7 The assistant tracked down an original, handwritten manuscript from an obscure but brilliant composer, Arthur Finch, at an old collector’s estate. I had always been fascinated by his work. But the score was badly damaged, almost illegible. “Ms. Blackwood, Mr. Hayes loves Finch’s compositions. We’ve had this professionally restored, but it’s still not perfect. Perhaps I should just commission a custom luxury item instead?” “No.” Victoria stared at the tattered pages. “Anything that can be bought with money is a cop-out. Leave it. I’ll restore it myself.” “Ma’am?!” The assistant’s eyes went wide. Victoria knew how. In the early days, when she loved me most, she had learned about antique restoration to share my passion. For five days, she didn’t leave the studio. When she finally emerged, the Arthur Finch manuscript hung on the wall, pristine, as if the ink had just dried. “When he sees this,” she whispered to herself, “he’ll come back.” Just then, her phone rang. It was Liam, his voice a ragged whisper. “Victoria… I think I’m dying…” 8 She found him by the riverbank, soaked and covered in blood. He was coughing up water and blood, his hand gripping her blazer with surprising strength. “It was Ethan…” he choked out. “He tried to kill me…” My spirit froze. After a harrowing trip to the ER, once Liam was stable, he told his story through tear-filled eyes. “I knew Ethan was upset with you because of me. His birthday is coming up, and I just wanted to find him, convince him to come home and clear the air. But when I finally tracked him down… he was by the river… with another woman.” He choked on a sob. Victoria gripped his shoulders. “What happened?” Liam shook his head violently. “I can’t say… they weren’t wearing anything…” Victoria’s pupils constricted. “Ethan said… if I came back, I’d tell you everything. He said his meal ticket would be gone… I tried to run, but they pushed me into the river. If the tide hadn’t washed me ashore… I would have never seen you again, Victoria…” He clung to her, sobbing. I watched her face, my non-existent heart pounding. Victoria… you know me. Don’t you? You know I’m not that person. He’s lying! He got into trouble with his own creditors! Victoria gently pushed Liam back onto the pillow, her touch surprisingly steady. She wiped a tear from his cheek. “Get some rest.” Then she turned, walked out, and drove home. In the studio, she stood before the restored Finch manuscript. She dialed my number. Ten times. Twenty. Fifty. A hundred unanswered calls. Her eyes began to burn. The fingers on her right hand, raw and scarred from the chemicals and tools she’d used for the restoration, throbbed with a dull pain. RIIIIIP! She tore the manuscript from the wall. “ETHAN HAYES, YOU BASTARD!” The paper disintegrated in her hands. The violent motion tore open the healing cuts on her fingers, and droplets of blood spattered across the ruined notes. Panting, she threw open the studio door. Her staff, waiting outside, stared at her in alarm. Her face was flecked with her own blood. “Get the word out,” she commanded, her voice ragged. “I’m marrying Liam Cole. Announce it to the entire city. Spare no expense.” On the last four words, her grip was so tight on the doorframe, it seemed the wood itself might splinter.
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