I was alone in the hospital when the doctor told me I was dying.

“Lesley, your bone marrow treatment isn’t working anymore. Transfusions can only buy you time. You need a transplant soon, or your body’s going to shut down.”

I nodded like I understood. Like I was still here but I wasn’t.

My hands were shaking when I grabbed my phone and called Fredrinn. My husband. Five years. Mafia king, everyone’s nightmare. Supposedly mine too, just in a different way.

It rang.

Again.

Again.

Then it stopped. I called back but it sraight to nothing.

My chest felt tight, like someone was sitting on it. I stared at my screen, waiting. Hoping. Like an idiot.

Instead, Instagram popped up.

A post.

From her.

My twin.

My fraternal twin sister. Same blood, different soul. The one who left, who always said she was meant for bigger things, prettier things. The one who never hid how much she hated that I had him first.

She was smiling in the photo. All soft and sweet while her hand tangled with a man’s fingers.

I knew that hand.

I knew that watch. I'm the one who bought it for him.

Fredrinn’s.

My stomach dropped but the caption made me feel sick.

“The man I’ve loved in secret is finally mine. Even if this is just a dream, I hope it never ends.”

My thumb slipped.

I liked it.

I didn’t even realize I was crying.

Less than a minute later, my phone started blowing up. His name flashing over and over like it was screaming at me.

I answered.

“Lesley, don’t hang up,” he said fast, rough. “Please. Just listen.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I know what you saw,” he kept going. “It’s not what you think. I swear. She said she’d be your donor. Bone marrow. She said she’d do it. But only if I gave her a chance. One month, I will act as her husband. Just one. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t cross the line. I only did it for you. Everything I did was for you.”

My throat hurt when I tried to talk. “Fredrinn… is that true?”

“Yes,” he said too fast. Then quieter. “You’re my wife. You’re my life. You know that. I can’t lose you. I won’t live through it.”

I laughed, but it came out broken. “Then why does it feel like you didn’t hate saying yes?”

He didn’t answer. I could hear him breathing.

That was worse.

I remembered things I didn’t want to remember. Him driving across the city at three in the morning because I said my bones hurt and I couldn’t sleep. Him showing up with greasy dumplings and acting like it was nothing. Him buying me shoes I only mentioned once, like it was a joke. Him kneeling under those stupid fireworks on my birthday, holding a ring with shaking hands.

“Marry me after you graduate,” he said back then. “I want forever with you.”

Everyone believed him.

Fredrinn Ashcroft. Mafia boss. Cold to the world. Soft only for me.

And when I got diagnosed six months ago, he didn’t let go of my hand. Not once. He cried like he was the one dying.

“If you quit, I quit,” he said. “Don’t leave me.”

He searched everywhere after that. Doctors. Black market contacts. Underground hospitals. He even tried to give his own blood, knowing damn well it wouldn’t work. I caught him writing a will once. He didn’t hide it. He wasn’t scared.

And yes, he paid her.

One hundred million.

I saw the transfer. Clean. Immediate. Mafia money moves fast. Money for her fashion dreams. For her freedom. For her loyalty.

But money wasn’t enough. She wanted him too.

And the worst part? He gave her that. Even if he keeps saying it was for me.

For the fourth time in six months, my twin backed out again.

There was always a reason. Always some new problem. And every single time, Fredrinn stayed glued to her side like she was the one dying.

The first time, she fainted. Said her blood sugar dropped. Fredrinn slept at her hospital for three nights straight. He didn’t come home. He didn’t even bother to text me goodnight.

The second time, she said she couldn’t sleep. Anxiety. Nightmares. Fredrinn sat through her therapy sessions like a loyal husband, holding her hand until morning.

The third time, she suddenly had a fever. That same day, I collapsed during treatment. Nurses were calling his name. He still left. Went straight to her place to take care of her.

And now she wanted something new.

She told him she’d finally donate her bone marrow if he agreed to be her husband for one month.

Just one month.

I was lying on my hospital bed when he told me. My hands were shaking so bad I had to grip the blanket to stop them.

“Fredrinn,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. It still came out weak. “Give her more money. I don’t care how much. Just pay her. Please. Don’t be her boyfriend. Just tell her to do it now.”

Silence.

I could hear him breathing on the other end. Slow. Careful.

Then he said quietly, “Lesley… we already owe her a lot. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s helping you. We should be grateful.”

Something snapped in my chest. “Owe her? One hundred million isn’t enough? Or is there something else you owe her?”

He didn’t answer. Then I heard her voice behind him. Soft. Sweet. Fake as hell.

“Fredrinn, I burned my hand! Ow!" she said, dragging the words. “It hurts. Come here! Please!"

His tone changed instantly. “I’ll call you later,” he said fast. “She needs me.”

Then the call ended.

Just like that.

I stared at my phone until it went black. It felt like something inside me finally caved in. Like I’d been hollowed out and there was nothing left to protect.

I turned my head and looked at the doctor.

“How long,” I asked, barely louder than air, “if I don’t get the transplant?”

He sighed. Didn’t even try to sugarcoat it.

“A month. Maybe less. Your body’s getting weaker every day. If the transplant happens soon, there’s a chance. If not—”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off. “It’s fine.”

I looked away.

“I won’t have it.”

I knew my twin too well. She wasn’t going to save me. She was dragging it out on purpose. Every delay meant more time with him. And I was done begging. Done waiting. Done fighting alone.

That evening, I went back to the house.

The sky was gold and orange, quiet and soft, like the world was being kind to me for once. I almost thought maybe this was mercy. Like God giving me one last calm moment before everything ended.

Then I opened the door.

And whatever was left of me broke.

Fredrinn was on the couch when I walked in.

My twin was curled up against him, way too close, feeding him fruit like she owned him. She was smiling, calm, satisfied. Like she’d already won and was just waiting for the prize to stop breathing.

“Lesley!” Fredrinn jumped up fast, like he’d been rehearsing this. His face lit up, guilty and hopeful at the same time. He shoved a small gift box toward me. “I got you something. If you take this, it means you agree. You’ll let me stay with her for a while so she can help you. Just say yes. Please.”

I stared at the box. Didn’t move. Didn’t reach for it.

“I don’t need the gift,” I said. My lips were shaking but I kept my voice flat. “I’ll agree even without it.”

He froze. “You really mean that?”

“Yes,” I said. Each word hurt coming out.

My twin was up in a second. She grabbed my arm like we were sisters again, like she hadn’t been slowly killing me. Her smile was bright and fake.

“Good,” she said sweetly. “Then let’s all be nice, okay? No jealousy. Fredrinn’s just helping me live my dream. He promised me one month. After that, you’ll be fine.”

I pulled my arm out of her grip. Slowly.

“I won’t be jealous.”

Fredrinn finally relaxed. He rushed to the kitchen, came back with a bowl of soup like this was some happy family scene. He smiled at me, proud of himself.

“I made this for you. It’s good for your blood. Eat a little.”

It smelled warm. Familiar. I wanted to trust him. I took one sip.

My throat burned instantly.

“No,” I gasped, grabbing my chest. My skin went cold. “Shrimp. You put shrimp in this. Fredrinn, I’m allergic! I told you. You know this.”

He went pale. “I thought… I thought it was peanuts. I mixed it up.”

My twin tilted her head, pretending to be helpful. “No, you’re confused. I’m allergic to peanuts. You remembered that, right? I told you last week.”

Everything went blurry.

Pain tore through my chest. Sharp. Deep. Like something was ripping me open from the inside. He remembered her allergy. Not mine.

The last thing I heard was him yelling my name like it mattered now.

When I woke up, I was back in a hospital bed. Again.

Fredrinn was sitting beside me. His eyes were red. He was holding my hand too tight, like he was scared I’d disappear.

“I’m sorry,” he said fast. “It was a mistake. Please believe me. I canceled everything. For the next few days, it’s just you. I swear. I won’t let this happen again. Please forgive me.”

I turned my face away.

“You don’t need to say sorry,” I said quietly. “You already belong to her. Just remember what she likes now. Take care of her. And Fredrinn… stay out of my life. I mean it.”

He shook his head, panicking. “What are you talking about? This thing with her isn’t real. It’s just a deal. One month. I’m pretending so she’ll save you. Don’t twist it. You’re my wife. You’re the one I love.”

He reached for my face.

I pulled the blanket up instead.

“I’m tired,” I whispered. “I need to sleep.”

His hand stayed in the air for a second. Then he pulled back and stood up.

“Fine,” he said. “Rest.”

The door closed behind him. The sound felt heavier than a gunshot.

I opened my eyes after he left. Tears slid into my pillow, silent, useless. I knew the truth. I didn’t have much time left. Aplastic anemia was eating me alive, slow and patient.

I forced myself out of bed later. Every step hurt. I went to the closet and dragged out an old dusty box hidden in the back.

Inside was my whole life with him.

Movie tickets from our first date. A cheap bracelet he bought me at a night market when he still smiled like a normal man. Polaroids from trips before blood, guns, and deals replaced love.

In every photo, I was smiling.

And his arms were always around me.

My chest felt tight. I spent the whole night going through that box, touching every stupid little thing like it was the last time I’d ever get to. By dawn, I dragged the box outside and lit a small brazier. One by one, I threw the memories in the fire.

The flames were climbing when a voice cut through the air.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

Before I could even move, my twin came storming at me and shoved me hard. The brazier tipped, hot coals flying everywhere. A few landed on my arm. I gasped, pain ripping through me.

“Miya—” I stumbled back, clutching my arm.

She didn’t even slow down. She lunged at me, eyes burning with that fake hurt she always wore. “If you don’t want me here, just say it! Why are you burning my stuff?”

Her voice was all venom wrapped in sugar, but I saw it. The satisfaction.

The yelling drew Fredrinn out. He ran up and grabbed her like she was the one in danger, shoving me back without even touching her. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

She clung to his chest, trembling, tears already streaked down her cheeks. “Fredrinn, she hates me so much she started burning my stuff! Look at it! She doesn’t want me here!”

His eyes hit me for the first time in weeks, and I froze. But it wasn’t love I saw. It was disappointment.

“Lesley… how could you? After everything she’s done for you, after she agreed to help with your treatment… this is how you treat her?”

I felt my throat tighten. Couldn’t breathe. I bent down and picked a charred scrap from the ashes, a corner of a photo. My hands were shaking so bad I almost dropped it.

“Look at this,” I said, voice breaking. “These aren’t her things. They’re mine. Our memories.”

The photo was from last winter. Fredrinn had wrapped his scarf around me, my cheeks red, my eyes bright.

For a second, he froze. “Why… why would you burn these?”

“Because they’re rotten,” I said, tears blurring my eyes. I tossed it back into the fire. “I don’t want them anymore.”

“No, Lesley! These are ours. You said we’d look at them when we were old. Why throw them away?”

I gave a tiny, broken smile. “Don’t you get it? Fredrinn… I’m dy—”

“Fredrinn… my hand. I think I burned it when the brazier fell.” My twin’s voice cut in, sharp and fake again.

Just like that, he was gone. Dropped my hand like it meant nothing. His eyes were all over her now, fussing, protecting, caring. “Let’s get you inside. I’ll put ointment on it.”

With his arm wrapped around her, he walked her in. Didn’t even glance back.

My arms burned, but I didn’t care. I dragged myself back to my room, pulled out the first-aid kit, and poured alcohol on the cotton. The sting hit like a punch, almost knocking the air out of me.

Still, it wasn’t as sharp as watching Fredrinn forget me, piece by piece.

Back then, he’d freak out over the tiniest thing. A paper cut and he’d be panicking, dragging me to the infirmary like I was dying. I used to laugh at how over the top he was. Secretly, I loved it. He made me feel like I mattered.

Now, he didn’t even notice the burns. Didn’t even ask. He just walked away with my twin, like I was invisible.

That night I closed my eyes and let the tears come. They slid down my face and onto my arms, burning on the fresh wounds. I bit my lip to keep from screaming, but even that sting wasn’t as sharp as the ache in my chest.

The next couple of days proved I’d completely fallen in his world. My twin clung to him like glue. He couldn’t go five steps without her pulling him back.

At dinner, she pouted like a spoiled kid, nudging his arm. “Fredrinn, feed me the shrimp. You know it tastes better when you do it.”

I pushed my food around, quiet. He picked up the shrimp, fed her. She leaned into him, smiling like I wasn’t even there.

On the couch later, she curled up against his chest while a movie played. “Hold me tighter. I hate the loud parts.”

He just tightened his arms around her. No hesitation. Not a second for me.

Every time I walked by, she’d tilt her head at me, all sweet and fake. “Lesley, you promised, right? You don’t mind if we’re close?”

I forced a tiny smile. “Not at all.”

That became my answer for everything. I wasn’t even sure if I was lying or telling the truth anymore.

The truth was my body was falling apart.

She was supposed to be my bone marrow donor. My own blood. The one person who could save me. But she dangled it like a trophy, a game I was always losing.

...

That evening I looked in the mirror. Pale. Weak. I might not even have the strength to stand soon. That’s when I made a decision.

I needed one last picture. A photo for my funeral. So even if Fredrinn forgot my face, he’d see me once more. Alive. Smiling. Me.

“Miss, you’ve got a really graceful face. ID? Graduation?”

I stared straight into the camera. My voice was calm, but inside I was already gone. “For my funeral.”

The guy’s hands shook, like he wasn’t sure how to react. I didn’t explain. I just let the flash blind me, told myself this would be the one on my coffin.

When I went to wait for the copy, I froze. Laughter at the front door. That low chuckle. His voice. And her high-pitched giggle.

I turned. They were walking in, arm in arm, like some happy couple.

“Lesley? Why are you here?” she said, fake shock.

I tucked the photo in my pocket. “Just took one for my ID. What about you two?” My voice stayed steady.

She leaned on him, soft and sweet. “Photo albums are important for couples. We took a few days ago, now we’re picking them up.”

Fredrinn glanced at me. “She begged. I only went along. Once you’re better, we can make our own album.”

My chest tightened. I nodded, said nothing.

Staff called them over to pick photos. I tried to slip out. My twin grabbed my wrist. “Lesley, help us choose. You’ve got better taste than me.”

Before I could react, she dragged me to the computer. There they were.

Photo after photo. Holding hands. Smiling like they belonged. Sunset behind them as they kissed. Him hugging her from behind in matching white.

Every image stabbed me. My throat felt tight.

“Pick a good one, Lesley. Which looks happiest?” she chirped, sharp and fake.

I couldn’t speak. Then a loud crash shook the room. Shelves toppled.

Fredrinn lunged at her, covering her body instantly.

Meanwhile, a sharp corner of a metal shelf hit my shoulder. I screamed, pain ripping through me. Blood soaking my blouse.

“Fredrinn, it hurts!” My twin wailed, clutching her tiny graze.

He panicked. “You’re bleeding. We need a hospital.” He swept her into his arms, running toward the door.

He looked at me for a second, trapped under the shelf, blood pooling around me. Our eyes met. One, two seconds. Then he looked away and left.

I forced myself up, swaying, and dragged myself to the hospital.

The doctor frowned at my wound as he stitched me. “Why didn’t anyone bring you here? You lost too much blood. This is serious.”

I bit my lip as the needle went in. “I didn’t have anyone.”

He hesitated. “Weird… a young woman came in earlier with a tiny graze. Her boyfriend was terrified. He demanded extra checks.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “That was my boyfriend too.”

He froze, didn’t ask more. Just finished the stitches in silence.

Late that night I was in my room changing my bandage when Fredrinn finally came back. He froze at the door when he saw me struggling.

His eyes went wide at the wound. “Lesley, how did this happen?” His voice cracked as he rushed over.