Donated Kidney to Hubby's Mistress, Then He Died

Right after my check-up, I scrolled past a help post:

“The college student I’m seeing has kidney failure. The only matching donor is my wife. How can I get my wife to willingly donate her kidney to her?”

Someone in the comment section replied:

“Easy! Just tell your wife she’s the one with kidney failure, and your mistress is a kind stranger volunteering to donate. Your wife will definitely agree!”

Just as I was thinking what poor woman was unlucky enough to have such a husband,

My husband, Dr. Alex Harper, the Chief Surgeon, suddenly approached me with a fake medical report:

“You have kidney failure, Claire. You need immediate surgery. But luckily, we have a kind donor here at the hospital who’s a perfect match. I’ve already scheduled the surgery for tomorrow!”

I watched Dr. Alex Harper stand before me, holding the report, his face a mask of pained concern and forced relief.

For a moment, I was stunned.

It must be a coincidence, right?

Alex and I had dated for five years, married for two—a total of seven years. He had always been incredibly thoughtful.

He never once let me step foot in the kitchen or do a single chore.

That morning, I’d merely coughed twice, and he’d rushed me straight to his hospital for a check-up.

He was the best man in the world to me, besides my own parents!

I looked at him, testing the waters:

“Honey, could there be a mistake?”

“I feel perfectly fine. How could I suddenly have kidney failure?”

Alex gently stroked my hair, reassuring me:

“Most kidney diseases don’t show obvious symptoms, sweetheart. It’s a good thing we caught it early, otherwise, it could have been really bad.”

His expression was sincere, his tone earnest.

But the sight of him sent a chill down my spine.

I was silent for two seconds, still unwilling to give up hope:

“Who is this ‘kind donor’ who’s giving me a kidney?”

Alex answered without hesitation:

“A college student.”

My heart plummeted.

It clicked. Alex. He was the one who posted it. He was cheating.

And now, he wanted to trick me into donating my kidney to save his mistress.

My blood ran cold, but I kept my face carefully blank as I asked Alex:

“I don’t know this college student at all. Why would she agree to donate a kidney to me?”

Alex smiled warmly:

“That girl is incredibly kind.”

“She said her own mother died of kidney disease, and she doesn’t want to see anyone else go through that same pain.”

“So, as soon as she found out she was a match for you, she immediately offered to donate.”

Even though Alex’s words were a lie,

The undeniable tenderness in his eyes when he spoke of that girl was all too real.

I knew that look.

I’d seen it when he traveled thousands of miles just to see me.

When I was sick, and he stayed by my side for days and nights without sleep.

At our wedding, when he knelt on one knee and made his solemn vows.

He had always gazed at me with that same devoted look.

Seeing my silence, Alex comforted me softly:

“Don’t be scared, darling.”

“I’ll perform your surgery myself.”

“With me there, you’re going to be perfectly fine.”

Hearing Alex’s words, I couldn’t help but recall when he first chose medicine, promising me with the same earnestness:

“Claire, I swear, I’ll study hard so I can protect you from illness and pain your whole life.”

How laughable.

The man who once vowed to study medicine just to keep me safe.

Now, he was willing to personally remove my kidney for another woman.