Three Years, One Big Lie

ee years, I loved him, cared for her, and planned our f

picture of a marriage certificate from two years ago

. My love, my sacrifice, was just a way for her to get on his insurance to cover the transplan

ed. The donation had put me at high risk,

anna. Them kissing on a beach. A positive pregnancy test. I had given them my heal

a blur of headlights

adiating from my side. The anesthetic from my kidney donation surgery was just wearing off. Throu

pte

ll, and it wasn' t junk mail. It was thick, expensive paper, the

rs. Dock

oreign. We lived here. I lived here. Dock lived here. But there was no Mrs. Pat

eless person at a company we' d bought something from. I tried to re

the silence. An unknown number. A single

certificate from the Clark Co

Dock Pa

Brianna

rriage: Tw

a. Dock' s sick little sister. The sweet, frail girl I had cooked for, cared

wi

weren' t an engagement. They were a lie. Every "I love you," every promis

was a phantom ache, a reminder of the piece of me I had given away for a lie. My bo

as Dr. Morrow's office. I almost ignored it, but my trai

l of a careful sadness I recognized from delivering bad

ld marble a small, solid thing in a

alk about starting treatment immediately. It

The kidney donation had put me at higher risk, and now the bill was coming due. I was s

numb. I had to talk to him

xt. "We need to

t instant, cold and

, ple

me late. Don

sted. The familiar actions were a comfort, a pathetic attempt to pretend this was just another Tuesd

ng at the dining table. He loosened his tie, his movements weary and annoye

Gladys? I had

e room. I pointed to the letter still on the counte

t sighed, a long, tired sound

. I have a ring on my finge

e diamond he' d given me. "That was a m

hree years wa

hit him, to make him feel a fraction of the pain ripping through me. Instead, I reached for

my touch burned hi

d me when I had nothing. I owed them. When she got sick, marrying me was the o

plant. M

about saving his sister. It was about saving his wife. And I w

like ash. "You let me love you, you let me

hackle. I unconsciously twisted it, the cold metal

s complicated," he said, looki

a broken, ugly sound. "My life i

ance?-crossing his face. "Don't start wi

tactic. Another compli

inued, as if I hadn't spoken. "She' ll be moving i

hing, he was throwing me away for t

I said, the words

, confused. "We

ery way that mattered to me, we were. And now I want out." It w

out love, a relationship without a foundation. It was like I

ne. Whatever you want to call it. Pack you

money could fill the hole he' d carved

bing my purse and my car keys. I had to get out. I

y hands shook on the steering wheel. Pain shot through my abdomen, sh

phone buzzed again. And again. And again. A rapi

k and Brianna ki

olding hands, her h

regnancy test. The final,

into long, wet streaks. My foot slipped on the gas pedal. The

of glass shattering, of metal twistin

, I felt a strange sense of peace. The

, it wa