They called me The Glass Doll—a fragile girl with Osteogenesis Imperfecta, the brittle bone disease. And Noah Sterling, my boyfriend, was a pharmaceutical researcher. When he shoved me, sending me crashing to the floor, I grabbed desperately at his pant leg, begging him to get me to the ER. He kicked my hand away, annoyance etched into every line of his face, and scoffed. “Lily, you’ve been on my meds for months. You’re practically cured. Don’t pull this pathetic stunt with me. I have work to do, and I just need to talk to a colleague. Is this really necessary?” Sienna stood beside him, her arm looped through Noah’s, feigning a sweet, scolding voice. “Oh, Noah, honey, you shouldn’t treat your girlfriend like that!” I lay sprawled on the hardwood, registering the crunch of multiple fractures, realizing a splinter of bone had punctured my lung. My breath was catching in ragged gasps. With a trembling hand, I managed to dial 911. “Noah, sweetie, we have to go, or we’ll be late for the lab meeting. I have so many questions I need you to help me with.” Sienna hurried him away, already tugging him toward the door. I’d lost count of how many times Noah had dismissed me, citing his research. Time bled away. I felt warm, coppery blood welling up in my mouth. My vision swam. The 911 operator called back. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, the street is blocked by a private car. We are moving as fast as we can. Please, just hold on a little longer.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. With the last vestige of strength, I typed out a text. “Thank you for healing me. It’s time to pay back this life you gave me.” 1 I lay still on the floor. If it weren’t for the blood flecks on my chin, I would have looked peacefully asleep—serene and undisturbed. Because I rarely went outside, my skin was pale, perfectly white, like real porcelain. My lips were turning blue, but they held a faint smile. And on my cheeks, a trail of tears, a testament to my bitter, desperate regret for the future I wouldn’t see. I looked down at the silent, broken figure and finally understood: I was dead. A half-hour earlier, we’d had the argument. How many times had it happened? The pattern was always the same: we’d finally settle into a quiet, sweet moment, and his phone would buzz—always a colleague—and Noah would bolt, tireless and focused. This time, the colleague had shown up at our door. Noah was a pharmaceutical researcher, a brilliant mind dedicated to finding the cure for Osteogenesis Imperfecta. We’d known each other since we were kids. He knew that my disease meant I couldn’t fall, couldn’t be hit, or I’d suffer severe, multiple breaks. Thanks to him, I had stumbled and limped my way to the age of twenty-five. But today, he had simply shoved me away in frustration. In that instant, I’d heard the sickening, unmistakable sound of bones snapping inside my own body. Watching him ignore me, watching him prepare to leave, I panicked. I grabbed his pant leg, biting back a sob. “Noah, I’m broken. My bones. Please, just take me to the hospital.” He looked down at me, his eyes filled with contempt, and viciously kicked my hand away from his trousers. “Lily, you’ve been on my medication. You’re practically cured. Stop being dramatic. I have to go to work, and I’m just talking to a colleague. Why are you making a scene?” “You just fell. It’s not like you got hit by a car. I am sick of your constant jealousy. It’s exhausting.” I struggled to look up at him, offering a helpless, hollow smile, and called 911 myself. Noah watched my frantic movement, rolling his eyes in disgust. “Still faking.” Sienna wrapped her arms around Noah’s neck, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Noah, honey, let’s go now, or we’ll be late for the meeting. I have a million things I need your help with.” The front door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the house. I didn’t dare move. The only sound in the dead silence of the room was the regular tick-tock of the clock—the steady countdown of my life. The metallic taste of blood was thick in my mouth; I swallowed the warm fluid with effort. My vision blurred in and out. Breathing became a monumental struggle. The operator’s call only delivered more horror. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry. The street is completely blocked. We are trying to find an alternate route, but you need to hang on.” A wave of despair washed over me. I dialed Noah’s number again. If he turned around now, it might still be enough. The phone connected. Before I could even speak, his voice exploded in my ear, a torrent of abuse. “Are you kidding me? I’m working! If you’re hurt, call a goddamn Uber. You are not The Glass Doll anymore. Stop acting like you’re still a helpless baby!” I swallowed the mouthful of blood, my voice a weak whisper. “The ambulance is delayed. Can you just turn around and come back for me?” His reply was cold, devoid of all feeling. “So the ambulance is a little late, are you going to die? Do you have any idea how busy I am? I’m doing all this for you.” I tried to call again, but he wouldn’t pick up. “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…” I gave a self-mocking laugh, and blood bubbled past my lips, pouring out uncontrollably. He used to panic instantly if I was hurt, rushing me to the hospital himself. “Lily, don’t be scared, it’s just a broken leg. When we get home, I’ll pad every surface with thick foam so you never hit anything again.” He had dedicated his life to this cure. The young Noah had promised me, earnest and determined: “Lily, once you’re all better, I can finally take you out. You’ll be able to run free, and we’ll see the world.” But he broke his promise. 2 I laughed and cried at the same time. We were happy back then. I truly believed that happiness would last forever. But as my condition seemed to improve, Noah’s attitude began to shift. He spent endless nights in the lab, and his time with me dwindled to nothing. I told myself it was a crucial phase of his research; I needed to be supportive. I waited up for him no matter the hour, warmed his mug of coffee, and tidied his side of the bed. I forced myself to ignore the faint smear of lipstick on his collar. I ignored the scent of a perfume that wasn’t mine clinging to his shirt. But the truth was a slow, agonizing realization that I was only lying to myself. That night, he was in the shower. A call came in. Thinking it was my phone, I answered. “Noah, babe, I can’t even sleep without you here tonight.” “Why even go home? Lily is so fragile, she won’t even let you touch her. I know a lot of ways to keep you busy. I can show you next time.” “Noah? Why aren’t you saying anything?” When I finally registered what I’d done, I hung up. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. That voice. That was no colleague discussing work. They were flirting. They were intimate. It was likely that all those countless nights I spent alone in our quiet house, he was wrapped up in another woman’s arms. I’d called his mother a few times, trying to confide in her, but her words were a harsh slap of reality. “That’s just how men are, sweetie. You have to cut him some slack.” “If you two broke up, where would you go, Lily?” She was right. If I left him, where could I go? I had no apartment, no ability to work, no family, and no friends. I was exactly what she had called me—a fragile porcelain doll, requiring constant, expensive care. I had known he didn’t love me anymore, but I couldn’t leave. A month ago, I was doing some light housework and accidentally bruised my arm. I called him immediately, panicked, and he just told me to go to the clinic myself. I had been to the orthopedic department countless times. It had always been him—Noah—who held my hand, managed the paperwork, paid the bills, and gave me an overwhelming sense of security. This time, there wasn’t even a check-in call. When I returned from the clinic with a cast on my arm, he was sitting on the couch, happily texting someone. I stood silently in the doorway, staring at him. He offered a rushed, dismissive explanation. “I’m just talking about work with a colleague. Go lie down.” I retreated to the bedroom and quietly scrolled through his feed. “Work is exhausting, but thankfully I have you by my side.” The photo showed two people smiling into each other’s eyes. They were in love. I realized I didn’t think I’d ever taken a picture like that with Noah. A little later, he came to bed and lay down, wrapping his arm around me from behind. He saw I was looking at the post. He sounded completely unconcerned as he explained it. “Don’t get the wrong idea. She’s just a friend. I wouldn’t post it if I had anything to hide, right?” I nodded weakly. “I don’t misunderstand. I believe you.” I was calm. No, not calm. My heart had simply gone cold. But I still felt the compulsive need to comfort him. “You don’t have to work so hard. I wish you’d come home earlier.” “Maybe spend one less night…” He pulled his arm away before I could finish, cutting me off. “That’s enough. Work is stressful enough without coming home to a lecture. What can you actually do for me besides complain?” “Other men’s wives are supportive partners—they help run the house and earn a living. You? You injure yourself doing housework and just waste money all day.” I clamped my mouth shut, speechless, the insult stinging my eyes. The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong. Maybe he regretted ever taking me in. He seemed to realize his words were cruel, so he softened his voice. “I only work this hard for you, Lily. If I finish this project, the new drug for brittle bone disease will be fully developed.” A sharp, searing pain dragged me back to the present. The emergency dispatcher called again. “Ma’am, please remain calm and do not move. We are almost there. You must hold on.” Twenty minutes. And I still hadn’t heard a siren. I could feel my heartbeat slowing down. I was biting the inside of my lip, drawing blood, just to stay conscious. How much longer could I possibly last? Clutching the last shred of my sanity, I sent Noah that final, parting message. “Thank you for healing me. It’s time to pay back this life you gave me.” 3 As the text left my phone, I felt my spirit slowly lift from my body. The next thing I knew, I was standing right next to Noah. He was focused on writing a lab report when, suddenly, Sienna draped herself over his back, pouting playfully. “Noah, sweetie, I can’t write this part of the report. You have to help me!” He smiled gently, putting down his pen, and tapped her nose. “What don’t you get? I’ll walk you through it.” With that, he lifted her and sat her right down on his lap, leaning in close for a private tutoring session. Suddenly, a call from the hospital interrupted them. “Hello, are you family of Lily Sterling? We regret to inform you that our resuscitation efforts were unsuccessful. Please come to the hospital to handle the affairs.” Noah hung up without a word. “She’s unbelievable. Now she’s getting people to call and try to trick me. She’s too scared to leave the house, so this is her latest trick to get me to come home.” The phone rang again. Noah Tsked, hung up immediately, and blocked and deleted the number. He tossed his phone aside and returned to his intimate session with Sienna. A few colleagues nearby exchanged eye rolls, their disapproval obvious. Finally, a guy named Leo, who had clearly had enough, turned and muttered in disgust. “How did she even get hired? She doesn’t know anything. Just constantly using the lab as a place to canoodle. It’s sickening.” Noah heard him and stood up to retaliate. “Mind your own business, Leo. She’s not bothering you. Just do your own work.” Sienna shrank behind Noah, tugging his arm gently. “Noah, honey, don’t be mad. He’s not totally wrong. I’m sorry. Let’s take a break until you figure things out with Lily.” She wiped a tear and hurried out the lab door, covering her mouth with her hand. Noah gave Leo a nasty glare and then rushed out, chasing after her in a frantic panic. The remaining lab members started murmuring. “Man, I feel so bad for his fiancée. Twenty years with that jerk.” “Seriously. I wonder what he’s going to tell her.” I watched Noah’s furrowed brow, his expression of deep annoyance. I wanted to tell him: You don’t have to deal with me anymore. I’m gone. You are free. Noah held Sienna close, gently stroking her back. She sobbed into his chest, then looked up at him, teary-eyed and vulnerable. “Noah, you pushed Lily today. She must be hurt. She called you so many times.” Noah was completely nonchalant. “Don’t worry about her. A tiny little fall won’t do anything. She’s just jealous and trying to use her old, pathetic tricks to get attention.” Sienna relaxed, nestled closer into his arms. “If you say so, Noah, then I don’t have to feel guilty.” He wiped her tears and affectionately ruffled her hair. “Guilty about what? She’s not like you—responsible and capable. She just sits at home and moans about everything.” He thought for a moment, pulled out his phone, looked at my last text, and smirked. “Have you had enough fun with your little joke? Are you really hurt? Do you want me to come to the hospital?” Sienna peered over his shoulder at the text and put on a worried face. “Noah, sweetie, you should go check on Lily. You should.” She gently pushed him toward the parking lot. But they hadn’t walked far when Sienna let out a sharp cry. “Ah!” She immediately crouched down, clutching her ankle, fighting back tears. “Sienna, you twisted your ankle? Come sit here!” Noah instantly helped her to a nearby bench, gently took off her high-heeled shoe, and began softly massaging her ankle. Sienna tried to pull her foot away, pushing him. “Noah, no, you need to go to Lily. I’ll just rest here.” “No way. She can handle herself. You, however, can’t walk. Come on, I’ll carry you back.” He turned his back to her and hoisted Sienna onto his shoulders. Sienna hid her blushing face in his neck, but a look of undeniable triumph flashed in her eyes. When they returned to the lab, they walked right past a group of gossiping colleagues. “Did you hear? Some brittle bone patient died at the Central Hospital just now.” “I think… her name was Sterling, maybe?” Noah’s heart skipped a beat. He stopped walking and slowly let Sienna slide to the ground, listening intently.
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