My wife secretly swapped the donor lists. The kidney that was meant for our son, she gave to her old flame’s child instead. Later, our son’s condition worsened. The doctors fought to save him, but it was too late. He died. At that very same moment, her old flame’s son was recovering from a successful surgery. My wife was so overjoyed, she handed out gift cards to the entire hospital staff. The rage and grief swallowed me whole, and I collapsed. When I woke up, the doctors told me I had terminal cancer. My life was now on a countdown. My heart a hollowed-out ruin, I checked out of the hospital, clutching my son’s ashes. In the cold silence of our home, I drafted the divorce papers. 1 It was ten o’clock at night when Hannah finally came home. The moment she closed the door and slipped off her shoes, the living room lights flickered on. She jumped, startled. There I was, sitting on the sofa in the dark, a white porcelain urn cradled in my arms. I don’t know how long I’d been waiting. “Ian, are you insane?” she snapped. “Sitting here in the dark trying to scare me to death?” Her sharp voice cut through the silence. I mechanically lifted my head and looked at her. Even at this late hour, not a single strand of her long hair was out of place. Her dress was perfectly smooth, without a single wrinkle. It was clear how much the father and son she’d spent all day doting on meant to her. She, who had always been so effortlessly casual, was now meticulously put-together for them. When I just stared at her without a word, a storm cloud of annoyance gathered on her face. “Are you still holding a grudge about the kidney?” My hands tightened around the urn. “I already told you, another donor will come along! I’m a doctor, Ian. My priority has to be the patient in most critical need. Aaron is in the optimal window for recovery. This kidney gives him the best possible chance at a full life!” “I know you’re worried about Cody,” she continued, her voice laced with impatience, as if I were some weak, irrational fool. “But he’s already waited this long. What’s a little more time? He’s my son, too. It’s not like I’m going to abandon him…” But it wasn’t just a little more time. After we lost that kidney, my son’s health went into a nosedive. He never opened his eyes again. My little boy. He was so small. Before he died, he held my hand tightly and asked why Mommy wasn’t there. He asked if Mommy didn’t love him anymore. All I could do was kiss his pale cheeks, over and over, and tell him that Daddy was here, that Daddy would always be with him. Cody never saw his mother one last time. But her first love’s son, Aaron, got the kidney just in time. And he lived. He lived because he had my son’s kidney. I hated this hypocritical, selfish woman with every fiber of my being. I never wanted to see her again. Seemingly satisfied with her lecture, Hannah finally fell silent. She tossed her jacket, heavy with the scent of expensive perfume, at me. “Take this. I need it washed and ironed before I go to work tomorrow.” I didn’t move. I didn’t reach for it. I let it fall to the floor. Hannah’s brow furrowed. I met her eyes, my voice steady and certain. “Let’s get a divorce.” The words hung in the air. She stared as if she couldn’t believe they had come from my mouth. Her eyes were wide with disbelief. “What did you just say?” A bitter smile touched my lips. “I said, Hannah, I’m divorcing you.” I pushed the papers I’d prepared across the coffee table. “Here’s the divorce agreement. I don’t want any of the assets. City Hall opens at nine tomorrow. Make sure you have your ID.” The air in the room grew thick, stagnant. Hannah didn’t even look at the papers. I could see the rage building in her, a visible storm. “Are you ever going to let this go?!” she shrieked. “You had to pick tonight to pull this stunt? Aaron needed that kidney more than Cody! How many times do I have to explain it? Ian, can you stop being so damn selfish for once?!” Her furious glare was a physical force, trying to make me back down. I ignored it, my voice still quiet, but now as hard as stone. “Hannah, I’m divorcing you. This isn’t a negotiation.” Her face turned to ice. A cold, mocking laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, so now you’re threatening me?” She snatched her jacket from the floor, pulled it on, and stalked toward the door, her face a rigid mask. Clearly, she’d decided to run from the problem. She wasn’t staying here tonight. At the door, she turned back, her voice a final, cold warning. “And let me tell you something, Ian. Even if we do get divorced, I’m getting full custody of Cody. You’d better not live to regret this.” The door slammed shut, the sound echoing through the suffocating silence. I stroked the smooth, cool surface of the urn in my lap, as if comforting a frightened child. From the moment she walked in to the moment she left, she never once asked about her son. Not if he was in pain, not if he was sleeping. She never even lowered her voice. That slam of the door was deafening. And not once did she ask what was in the urn I was holding. I stared at the empty doorway, my vision blurring. You missed Cody’s last moments, Hannah. And you’re going to miss mine, too. The next morning, I was waiting outside City Hall right on time. Nine o’clock came and went. Hannah was a no-show. I pulled out my phone and called her. Her voice exploded from the other end. “Ian! What is wrong with you? Is your life’s mission to make mine a living hell?” My own voice was calm. “Come and sign the papers, Hannah. Don’t make me lose the last shred of respect I have for you.” She came. We signed our names. The clerk stamped the papers. The divorce was final. Hannah’s face was a twisted mask of fury. A laugh, sharp and humorless, escaped her. “Wow. I really underestimated you.” “And don’t forget what I said,” she spat, turning to leave. “Custody of Cody is mine. I’ll give you three days to pack your things and bring him to me, Ian. Or I’ll see you in court.” As I watched her storm away, I wanted to laugh, but a thick, metallic taste of blood filled my throat instead. Cody’s already gone, Hannah. He died the same day Aaron’s surgery was a success. Are you happy? At least it saves you some legal fees. I never went back to that house. I had already burned all of Cody’s things. I’d thrown away all of mine. I’d cut our faces out of every photograph. Lately, the cancer was getting worse. I was coughing up blood, sometimes with small pieces of tissue in it. The only reason I had pushed for this divorce decree was so that we wouldn’t be a family anymore—not even in death. That same day, I took the small bag I had packed, held Cody’s urn close, and went back to my hometown. My parents had always respected my decisions. They had never liked Hannah, but they’d agreed to the marriage to make me happy. It was the same now. They saw the urn in my arms, saw my body that had become a walking skeleton, and they must have guessed the truth. But they didn’t ask. They just cooked me nourishing meals every day and gently wiped the blood from my lips. One day, after a particularly bad bout of coughing that left me voiceless, I saw the raw pain in their eyes and was consumed by regret. Regret for coming back to be a burden on them in my final days. As if she could read my mind, my mother wrapped her arms around me, her own tears finally breaking free. “Ian, honey, we are so glad you came home,” she sobbed. “To be with you on this last part of your journey… for us, there is no regret in that. Only peace.” My own tears fell, and a sense of calm finally washed over me. One sunny afternoon, I sat in a rocking chair on the porch. Beside me was a bowl of grapes my mother had washed. In the golden haze of the summer sun, I saw him. Cody. He was wearing the new blue jeans I’d burned for him as an offering. He leaned against my legs, smiling up at me. “Daddy! I can touch you now!” I took his small hand in mine. Together, we watched as my parents placed my urn on the shelf next to his. One large, one small. The two porcelain urns leaned against each other, just like how Cody used to sleep in my arms. Cody blinked his clear, bright eyes. “Daddy, Grandpa and Grandma can’t see us anymore…” I stroked his hair. “No, son. But they can feel us in their hearts.” I didn’t know why we were still here, lingering in this world. But after seeing that my parents had found a measure of stability, I decided to take Cody to see his mother. When he was alive, all of Hannah’s attention had been focused on Aaron in the next room. Every single day, Cody had hoped his mother would come visit, but he died without ever seeing her again. Now, I could finally grant him his wish. He could look at her for as long as he wanted. We found Hannah at the hospital, just coming out of surgery. Cody was ecstatic. He finally saw the mother he had longed for, and he danced around her in excited circles. But Hannah couldn’t feel his presence. She sat down, exhausted, paying him no mind. Another doctor walked by. Hannah seemed to remember something and called out to him. “Dr. Miles, I was just wondering… how was my son’s recovery before he was discharged?” The doctor smiled warmly. “Oh, fantastic! The treatment was perfectly timed. Not a single complication.”
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