On the day Julian Sterling won the Global Philanthropist Award, I was given a death sentence by my doctors because I couldn't afford a replacement for my artificial heart. The host on TV asked Julian to call the person he regretted losing the most. Without hesitation, he dialed my number. I picked up, listening as Julian asked, "Do you regret leaving me for money back then?" I glanced at the exorbitant bill for the heart replacement surgery and chuckled softly. "Julian, since you're so rich now, lend me twenty grand, will you?" The line went dead instantly. I watched the TV as Julian coldly stated, "I guess I don't have any regrets anymore." He didn't know that when his heart was failing years ago, I secretly gave him mine. As soon as the live broadcast ended, I received a transfer of twenty thousand dollars from Julian. I stared at the notification, a mix of emotions swirling in my chest. I used the money to pay the overdue medical bills. Suddenly, I heard a familiar voice outside my hospital room. Looking through the crack in the door, I saw Julian. Seven years hadn't left a mark on him. He looked sharper, more distinguished. The only thing that had changed was the person by his side. It wasn't me anymore. The awards gala had just ended. He hadn't even changed out of his tuxedo, rushing to the hospital because his new girlfriend had a stomach ache. I watched him tenderly hold Claire in his arms, a look of pure adoration on his face. I lowered my head, intending to close the door quietly and pretend I hadn't seen anything. But Julian yanked the door open. I jumped, looking up to meet his gaze. His eyes swept over me, cold and piercing. "Long time no see. Not even going to say hello?" I looked at him, opening my mouth to speak. A thousand words rushed to my lips, but what came out was: "Julian, lend me another thirty grand." Julian froze, the cold indifference in his eyes igniting into anger. He grabbed my wrist. "Seven years, and that's all you have to say to me?" The needle marks on my wrist stung under his grip. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Mr. Sterling is so wealthy. If you don't lend me money, I'm afraid Miss Claire might misunderstand our relationship." Julian looked taken aback, a flicker of complexity crossing his eyes. Before he could speak, Claire latched onto his arm. "Honey, is this your ex-wife?" Claire looked at me, her tone dripping with feigned pity. "What can thirty grand even do? Julian spent fifty grand on a pair of shoes for me!" "It's a pity Ms. Lee didn't know what she had. If you hadn't heartlessly abandoned Julian, I never would have met him." I stayed silent, my mind drifting back to the past. I met Julian in college. We fell in love and spent five years together. Back then, he wasn't a billionaire entrepreneur. And my health wasn't failing like it is now. We were two broke students, orphans who found family in each other. We worked hard to build a tiny life of our own. Just as our careers were taking off, Julian was diagnosed with severe heart failure. The treatments and the transplant list required a fortune. We burned through every cent we had saved for our startup. To pay for his meds, I worked multiple jobs, eating one meal a day, splitting every dollar. I worked myself to the bone just to afford the cheapest generic drugs. But a suitable heart never came. I watched Julian wither away day by day, sinking into despair. Just when hope was all but lost, the doctor found me. He told me there was a match. The person whose heart matched Julian's was me. My thoughts snapped back to the present. Julian kissed Claire's forehead, his eyes full of tenderness. "If she hadn't been so heartless, how would I have met an angel like you?" "That thirty-thousand-dollar bag you liked? I'll buy it for you. Pick the expensive one next time. Your husband can afford it." Watching them, the phantom pain in my wrist seemed to pierce straight into my heart. It hurt so much I could barely breathe. I pulled my hand free from Julian's grip. I didn't want to be the prop in their love story anymore. As I turned to leave, Claire "accidentally" stuck out her foot. "Oh no, Ms. Lee! Why are you so clumsy?" I fell to my knees, my medical records scattering at Julian's feet. Seeing me fall, Julian's expression tightened. He instinctively reached out to help. Claire grabbed his hand and gasped, "What's this?" Julian's gaze fell on the papers. He picked one up and scanned it. "Artificial Heart Replacement..." A flash of anger crossed his face. He threw the report in my face. "Lily, I didn't think you'd stoop to fraud for money!" "You really haven't changed. Seven years later, and it's still all about the money!" I stood up, looking at Julian's healthy, robust body. A faint smile touched my lips as I silently gathered my papers. "Since you know I love money, Mr. Sterling, why not lend me a little more?" Claire, overcome with emotion, wept and clung to his arm. But the look she gave me was full of mockery and malice. "Honey, maybe it's true?" "Besides... if Ms. Lee hadn't left, you wouldn't have received that donor heart from a good Samaritan!" "Let's help her, okay?" Her words seemed to remind Julian of the "fact" that I had abandoned him for money. The hesitation in his eyes froze over instantly. "A heartless woman doesn't deserve the charity of strangers. She's not worth it." Julian turned away with Claire, who was still pretending to plead for me. But as she glanced back, the curve of her lips was pure venom. I picked up the medical report, now marred by Claire's footprint. My mechanical heart gave a tremor that didn't belong to it. My vision blurred as I watched them walk away. After a long time, I wiped a trace of blood from the corner of my mouth and looked at the words "Artificial Heart Replacement." My fingers traced the seven-year-old scar on my chest. Julian still didn't know. The heart beating in his chest was mine. Seven years ago, with no donor heart in sight, Julian was dying. Artificial heart technology wasn't mature then. It could sustain life in theory, but the risks were massive. When I found out I was a match, I gave him my heart. I took the artificial one—a cheap model with a seven-year lifespan—to save money. Since then, my chest would often ache. Coughing up blood and sudden weakness became my new normal. And because I was broke, the surgery to upgrade the unit kept getting delayed. Now, seven years were up. The machine in my chest sent its seventh warning tremor. I knew it was reaching its limit. I left the hospital and went back to my rental. It was small, damp, and freezing in the winter. In the summer, it was an oven. But it was cheap. Julian and I used to live here. This was where we dreamed of our future. After I found out I was a match, I pretended to be a gold digger. I slapped a divorce agreement on the table. We had been together for five years. I had never complained, never left his side.
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