Too Late For His Forgiveness

The man I loved, the man I was going to marry, asked me to save my twin sister' s life. He didn't look at me as he explained that Annabell's kidneys were failing completely.

Then, he slid the annulment papers across the table. It wasn't just my kidney they wanted. It was my fiancé, too. He told me Annabell's dying wish was to marry him, even for a day.

My family' s reaction was brutal.

"After everything we've done for you?" my mother shrieked. "Annabell saved your father's life! She gave him a piece of herself! And you can't do the same for her?"

My father stood beside her, with his face grim. He told me if I wouldn't be a part of the family, I didn't belong in his house. I was being cast out. Again.

They didn't know the truth. They didn't know that five years ago, Annabell drugged my coffee, causing me to miss our father's transplant surgery. She took my place, emerging a hero with a fake scar while I woke up in a cheap motel, branded a coward. The kidney humming inside my father was mine.

They didn't know I only had one kidney left. And they certainly didn't know that a rare disease was already ravaging my body, giving me only months to live.

Abel found me later, his voice ragged.

"Choose, Aurora. Her, or you."

A strange calm washed over me. What did it matter anymore? I looked at the man who once promised me forever and agreed to sign my life away.

"Fine," I said. "I'll do it."

Chapter 1

Aurora Hinton POV:

The man I loved, the man I was going to marry, asked me to save my sister' s life. Then he handed me the papers to end ours.

Abel Byrd didn' t look at me as he slid the crisp document across the polished wood of my small dining table. His jaw was tight, a muscle twitching just below his ear. The exhaustion in his eyes wasn't just from lack of sleep; it was a deep, soul-level weariness that had been settling in for weeks.

"It's Annabell," he said, his voice low and rough, as if he' d swallowed gravel. "Her kidneys... they're failing, Aurora. Completely."

I didn't flinch. I already knew. The whispers in my family home had become a roar I could no longer ignore. My twin sister, Annabell, the fragile porcelain doll my family had spent a lifetime protecting, was finally shattering.

"The doctors said she needs a transplant. Immediately."