20
LUCIEN
Selena fell asleep beside me, her breathing soft and even, her hand still resting where my heart had been moments ago. I waited a while before moving. Carefully, I slipped out from under her, making sure not to wake her. The sheets still held her warmth, her scent lingering in the quiet space between us.
For a moment, I just stood there. Watching her. Moonlight spilled through the curtains, tracing silver across her face, softening everything. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, and there was something so peaceful about her like this, like the world hadn't touched her yet. Like nothing had ever hurt her.
God, I loved her. More than she would ever fully understand.
I turned away before I could wake her and stepped out onto the balcony. The air was cooler now, brushing against my skin, grounding me. The same place we had been only hours ago, tangled together, forgetting everything that waited outside this moment.
Sabrina had insisted we all stay at this hotel. At the time, it felt unnecessary. Now, I was grateful. Because it gave me time. Time to watch. Time to understand. Time to make sure.
My hands rested on the railing as I looked out into the quiet street below. And then, inevitably, my thoughts drifted back to him.
Kai.
I had been watching him since I arrived. Carefully. The way he looked at her, it wasn't something you could fake. It wasn't casual. It wasn't forgettable. It was there in the way his body shifted when she entered a room, in the way his eyes followed her even when he tried not to.
That kind of love didn't disappear. It just changed shape.
And that unsettled me more than I wanted to admit. Because if he still looked at her like that, then what had happened? Why had he let her go? Why had he hurt her the way he did?
My jaw tightened. I didn't know the full story. And I didn't like not knowing. Because if there was even the slightest chance that she still...
No. I cut the thought off before it could finish. My grip on the railing tightened. It didn't matter. She was my wife. And I loved her. That should have been enough. It had to be.
I closed my eyes briefly, drawing in a slow breath.
Time. I used to think I had so much of it. Now I measured it differently. In prescriptions. In doctor visits. In the quiet moments where my chest felt heavier than it should.
I reached into my pocket, pulling out the small bottle. Two tablets fell into my palm. I hesitated, just for a second, then swallowed them dry.
Six months. That's what the doctor had said. But I had seen the look in his eyes. Six months was hope. Not truth. If I was honest with myself, I probably had less.
My chest tightened at the thought. Not from pain. From something worse. Because Selena had always believed people left. That no one stayed. And now, I was going to prove her right. Not because I wanted to. But because I didn't get a choice.
I exhaled slowly, staring out into the night. Maybe that was what I was meant for. Not forever. Just this part. To find her when she was broken. To remind her what love felt like. To give her something real, even if I couldn't be the one to keep it.
The thought sat heavy in my chest. Because for the first time in my life, I didn't want to be selfless. I didn't want to let go. I wanted more time. With her. Just her.
My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling me out of it. A message. I opened it slowly.
Thank you, Lucien, for giving my son a second chance at life. I didn't know people like you still existed. I pray every day that you receive a heart.
My throat tightened. A photo loaded beneath the message. A little boy stood outside, sunlight catching in his hair as he ran across a patch of grass, a bright green ball clutched in his hands. He was laughing. Alive.
For a moment, I just stared at the screen. Then I looked down at my own hands. And something inside my chest, something quiet and heavy, shifted.
Maybe. Maybe it had been worth it.
Three Months Earlier
The first warning came as a dull ache. Nothing dramatic. Nothing urgent. Just enough to make it hard to focus. I tried to ignore it. Pushed through meetings. Forced myself to stay present. But the pressure kept building. By midday, even sitting upright felt like work.
It frustrated me more than I wanted to admit. I had built everything I had from nothing. And now my own body was slowing me down.
My phone rang. Dr. Anderson. I answered immediately.
"Mr. Thorne," he said, voice steady. "We've found a match. You need to come in right away."
Everything went still. A heart. A second chance.
"Thank you," I said, already reaching for my coat.
I called my mother on the way. She insisted on coming. Didn't give me much of a choice, if I was honest. I didn't call Selena. Not yet. I wanted to be sure first. Wanted to wake up after surgery and tell her everything was okay. Wanted to see her face when she realized I wasn't going anywhere. That I was staying. For once.
The drive felt shorter than it should have. My mother talked the entire time, nervous, hopeful, holding onto something neither of us said out loud. I let myself think about it. About what life would look like after. Apologizing to Selena. Taking her somewhere warm. Somewhere far from everything. Maybe Greece. Maybe the Maldives. Somewhere quiet.
I imagined mornings with her. A future that didn't feel temporary. Children. God, I wanted that. A life that didn't end too soon.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself believe it might happen.
And that was my mistake. Because hope has a way of asking for something in return.
By the time we got to the hospital, everything moved quickly. Forms. Tests. Conversations.
And then I saw him.
A little boy sitting across the room. Too pale. Too small for the weight he carried. His mother held him tightly, her voice breaking as she spoke to a nurse. "Please… he doesn't have time."
Something inside me shifted.
I looked at Anderson when he returned. "Is he waiting for a heart?"
He hesitated. Then sighed. "Yes."
"Below me?"
A pause. "Yes."
That was all I needed.
"Give it to him."
My mother turned to me sharply. "Lucien—"
"If he's a match," I said quietly, "give it to him."
"You could die," Anderson said.
"I know."
I looked at the boy again. At the way his mother held him like she was already losing him. "He hasn't lived yet," I said. My voice came out quieter than I expected. "And no mother should have to bury her child."
Silence.
My mother started crying. I pulled her into my arms. "You raised me better than this," I murmured.
She shook her head against my chest. "I raised you to live."
I closed my eyes. "I am living."
Just not for as long.
Anderson watched me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.
As we walked out, I passed the boy. I crouched slightly, offering him a small smile. "You're going to be okay."
Behind me, his mother broke down in tears. I didn't turn around. I couldn't. Because if I did, I might have changed my mind.
I thought about Selena the entire way home. About everything we could have had. About everything we wouldn't.
And for a moment, just a moment, I wished I had chosen differently.