Chapter 5
When Charlotte regained consciousness, Elias’s haggard face swam into focus above her. His normally immaculate appearance had crumbled–stubble darkened his jaw, and his eyes were bloodshot from what looked like a sleepless night.
When he noticed her stirring, his expression shifted–not quite softening, but losing some of its usual hardness.
“I went for Scarlett instead of you because she’s already sick,” he said abruptly, the words tumbling out like he’d rehearsed them. “Her immune system is compromised.”
Charlotte’s throat felt like sandpaper. “Makes sense.” And strangely, it did. The old Charlotte would have been crushed by his choice, but now she felt only a dull acknowledgment of a fact she’d always known.
Elias ran a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly uncomfortable with her calm acceptance. “The kidney transplant is still on for Tuesday. You need to heal up fast.”
A bitter smile tugged at Charlotte’s lips. So that explained his presence–not concern for her wellbeing, but fear that her injuries might delay his precious Scarlett’s surgery. The realization should have hurt, but instead, it felt like the final confirmation she needed.
After a moment of tense silence, he added awkwardly, “I meant what I said before. Even after the wedding, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. I promised your father I would.”
Charlotte met his gaze directly, saying nothing. In her mind, she answered: I release you from that promise. I release myself.
Elias didn’t return. Charlotte spent the next day alone, watching the IV drip slowly empty, then discharged herself without assistance or fanfare.
As she was signing the final paperwork, commotion erupted in the hallway–shouting, running feet, the squeak of wheels moving fast. A gurney rushed past toward the emergency room, with Elias sprinting alongside it, raw terror etched across his face.
Charlotte caught a glimpse of the patient–Scarlett, deathly pale, her hair matted with blood.
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Chapter 5
Her stomach dropped. In her previous life, Scarlett had died because Charlotte refused to donate her kidney. But this time, she’d agreed. Why was history still repeating itself?
Without thinking, Charlotte followed them to the emergency room. Outside the doors, Elias paced like a caged animal, his fingers drumming against his thigh in that familiar nervous pattern she’d seen throughout their childhood.
“What happened?” she asked quietly.
Elias looked up, seemingly surprised to see her standing there. He explained in disjointed sentences that Scarlett had a rare blood clotting disorder. She’d gotten dizzy in the shower and hit her head on the bathtub, causing a brain bleed.
A doctor emerged from the emergency room, his scrubs already spotted with blood. “She’s losing blood faster than we can replace it. We need a family member for an immediate direct transfusion.”
Elias jumped to his feet. “Take mine. Whatever she needs.”
“The patient has Rh–negative blood,” the doctor said grimly. “What’s your type?”
Elias’s face crumpled. “B–positive,” he whispered, the fight draining from him.
Rh–negative blood was extremely rare–the “golden blood” that fewer than 1% of people possessed. Among those present, only Charlotte had it.
“I’m Rh–negative,” she said immediately, stepping forward without hesitation. “Take mine.”
All the horrors of her past life flashed through her mind–the humiliation, the assault, the knife. She’d finally found a way to escape that fate, but she couldn’t let Scarlett die. Not again. Not if she could prevent it.
The nurses drew a full liter of blood from Charlotte–far more than standard donation
protocols allowed, especially for someone already injured. As the last of it filled the bag, her vision tunneled to black, and she collapsed.
When Charlotte woke again, her room was empty. No flowers. No cards. No visitors‘ chair pulled up to her bedside.
She yanked out her IV with shaking hands and stumbled barefoot down the hallway, using
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Chapter 5
the wall for support. At Scarlett’s doorway, she stopped, taking in the scene before her.
Elias was holding Scarlett as if she might shatter, his shoulders trembling with emotion. “You’re okay,” he kept whispering, his voice breaking. “You’re okay now.”
Scarlett smiled weakly, touching his face. “If I had died, you and Charlotte could finally be together. Maybe that would have been for the best.”
Elias took Scarlett’s hand and pressed it firmly against his chest, his expression fierce with a devotion Charlotte had never seen directed at her. “Don’t ever say that,” he said, raw emotion making his voice rough. “Feel this? My heart beats only for you. Stop bringing up people who don’t matter and creating problems between us.”
His voice dropped lower, more intimate. “In this life and every life that follows, I will only ever love you. There’s never been anyone else.”
Charlotte felt something twist in her chest–not jealousy or heartbreak, but a final, liberating acknowledgment of what she’d always known but refused to accept. She’d been holding onto a fantasy, and it was time to let it go.
She leaned against the wall outside the room, a sad but peaceful smile touching her lips. “This time,” she whispered to herself, “I’m breaking the cycle.”
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