I was struck down by Julian’s kept woman, leaving me paralyzed and stuck in a perpetual twilight. Julian, seemingly consumed by guilt, visited my hospital room daily to massage me. His apparent kindness moved me, and I fought against the agony, hoping to surprise him with my recovery. But one day, while feigning sleep, I overheard my attending doctor ask him: “Mr. Hayes, the muscle tissue samples from your wife are too frequent. At this rate, she’ll be permanently disabled.” Julian’s voice was cool, detached. “Tiffany’s Immortal Bloom is dying. Scarlett has longevity genes; her flesh and blood can bring the flower back to life.” Only then did the chilling truth dawn on me. His gentle massages weren’t acts of care. They were him, meticulously carving off the freshest flesh from my numb legs, slice by agonizing slice. But he didn’t know. The secret to my longevity was this: my blood carried a deadly poison. I lay in the hospital bed, tubes snaking into my body, every breath feeling like a dull blade scraping my throat. After the car crash, Dr. Reed said my spinal cord was damaged. The paralysis was temporary, and with consistent physical therapy, I might walk again. But Julian didn’t care about any of that. He sat by my bed, gently stroking my numb legs, his voice soft, like he was comforting a child. “Scarlett, don’t be scared. The pain will be gone soon.” I tried desperately to wiggle my toes, but they were nailed to the bed, utterly motionless. Dr. Reed stood by, frowning as he flipped through my medical chart. “Mr. Hayes, she just experienced a major hemorrhage. The risk of amputation right now is too great; it could lead to…” “To her death?” Julian chuckled softly, his fingertips tracing my knee, as if measuring something. “It’s fine. I trust your medical skills.” The doctor paused, then couldn’t help but ask, “Why does it have to be now?” Julian lifted his gaze, the tenderness in his eyes vanishing instantly, replaced by cold calculation. “Tiffany’s Immortal Bloom is dying.” The Immortal Bloom. My heart lurched. That was the flowerpot I’d accidentally shattered when I walked in on him and Tiffany. He’d gripped my throat then, his words slow and deliberate. “Do you know how precious this flower is? If it dies, you’ll pay for it.” So, this was what he meant by “pay.” Using my flesh and blood to nurture a flower Tiffany had cultivated! “Don’t worry. As soon as the flower comes back to life, I’ll bring her home.” He leaned in, whispering into my ear as if sharing a secret endearment, “Be a good girl, Scarlett. Just bear with it a little longer.” I struggled to open my mouth, wanting to scream, to ask him why he was so cruel to me! But at that moment, I couldn’t even summon the strength to cry. Julian suddenly noticed my gaze and froze slightly. “Scarlett, are you awake? Do you still recognize me?” I stared at him, unable to utter a sound. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but he quickly put on that mask of deep affection, urging Dr. Reed to examine me. The doctor pulled open my eyelids, and a blinding white light seared into my eyes. I held my nerves taut, forcing my eyes to remain still, suppressing even the slightest twitch. Dr. Reed frowned, putting down his penlight, his voice flat. “No pupil reaction. Just physiological eye-opening. Her consciousness hasn’t returned.” Julian’s tense shoulders subtly relaxed. Then, he leaned down and pulled me into his arms. His chest pressed against mine, his heartbeat a calm rhythm, his breath warm and steady. He seemed genuinely worried. Seemed. But I knew this deep, loving embrace was laced with deadly poison. Julian held me, his voice trembling, even squeezing out a single tear. “Scarlett, Dr. Reed said your leg is deteriorating rapidly. If we don’t amputate soon, you might not even make it…” Liar! I shook my head violently, but my body felt nailed down, only managing weak tremors. He choked back a sob, his thumb gently stroking my face, as if comforting a foolish child. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life.” Then, feigning reluctance, he turned to Dr. Reed and nodded. “Go ahead.” I was forcibly wheeled into the operating room. The moment the surgical knife cut through my skin, my pain receptors felt sluggish, delayed. But I could hear. I could hear the grinding sound of the saw cutting through bone. I could hear Julian standing nearby, quietly telling the doctor. “Take the freshest segment. Tiffany’s flower can’t wait.” I lay there, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling, remembering the first time he kissed me, when he’d smiled and said. “Scarlett, is your blood sweet? Why am I so addicted to it?” Yes, Julian. My blood is sweet. Sweet enough… to kill you.
The anesthetic washed over me like a tide, pulling me into a chaotic dream. In the dream, Julian waited for me in the rain. I ran to him, holding my umbrella, tilting it towards him on tiptoe, letting half my body get soaked. He frowned, pushing my hand away, “Don’t stand so close. Annoying, isn’t it?” That night, I had a fever of 102 degrees, but he didn’t even offer a word of concern. Later, I found out he was on endless calls with Tiffany, from late night until early morning. I always thought it was my fault, that I pushed too hard, that I wasn’t understanding enough. Only now did I realize. In his eyes, I was worth less than one of Tiffany’s flowers. … *Bang!* The hospital room door burst open, and I struggled to pull my consciousness from the swamp of anesthesia. “Tiffany, are you sure you want to be in here?” Julian’s voice was syrupy sweet, sickly cloying. “What if she suddenly wakes up?” “What’s there to be afraid of?” Tiffany chuckled softly, her footsteps nearing my bed. “Dr. Reed said she’ll be unconscious for at least three days.” The mattress dipped slightly as someone sat down. Tiffany whined playfully, “But I’m still scared, you know? The last time I hit her, there was so much blood. It was disgusting, gave me nightmares for a whole week!” My blood ran cold. Tiffany was the one who drove the car that hit me?! Julian’s tone was impatient: “Don’t bring that up.” “What, feeling sorry for her?” Tiffany snorted. “If she hadn’t suddenly rushed out, I wouldn’t have had to slam on the brakes.” “But speaking of which, the baby in her belly was incredibly stubborn. So much blood, and it still didn’t come out completely. You were the one who signed for the forced D&C in the end.” “Do you think she’ll be mad at you if she finds out?” A baby?! A bolt of lightning struck me, and my heart nearly seized. I… was pregnant? And my own husband had personally killed his own child! “What if she knows,” Julian sneered. “She loves me so much, how could she ever blame me?” Tiffany giggled. “True. By the way, we’ve tried her bedroom, her shower… We haven’t tried it right in front of her yet.” “And you said you were scared?” Julian’s breathing hitched. “She’s asleep all day anyway, she won’t know.” Tiffany’s nails scraped across my bedsheets, arousing and seductive. “Since we’re seeking thrills, let’s go all the way, shall we?” The bed frame began to shake. I bit down hard on my tongue, my soul ripped apart. One half screamed, roared, bled tears! The other half lay like a corpse, unable to even twitch an eyelash. Julian, how could you?! The agonizing pain and despair tore at my nerves, and I finally plunged back into darkness. When I woke again, Julian was sitting by the bed, peeling an apple. Seeing my eyes open, he immediately put on a surprised expression: “Scarlett? You’re finally awake!” His acting was flawless. So flawless, it made me want to vomit. I wanted to scream, to rip apart his hypocritical face, but only fragmented gasps escaped my throat. “Don’t rush, Dr. Reed said you need to recover slowly.” He gently took my hand, his thumb stroking the needle marks on my wrist. “Tiffany came to see you. She’s been feeling really guilty.” Guilty?! My pupils constricted sharply. Julian misunderstood my reaction and sighed softly. “She didn’t mean to hit you. The brakes failed that day. Can you forgive her, please?” I stared at him, wishing my gaze could morph into blades, tearing his flesh, piece by agonizing piece! But he just smiled, ruffled my hair, and then turned to the door. “Tiffany, come in.” Tiffany timidly walked in, holding a bouquet of pure white lilies. “Scarlett, I’m so sorry.” Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying for a long time. “I really didn’t mean to hit you.” I stared at her perfectly manicured nails. It was *those* hands that gripped the steering wheel and sent my baby flying! But Julian said, “Scarlett didn’t object, so she’s forgiven you.” The look of guilt instantly vanished from Tiffany’s face, and she smiled sweetly at him. Julian stroked her head, then turned to me. “Oh, by the way, Tiffany’s on vacation recently. How about I have her take care of you?” Take care? More like monitor me! Of course, I didn’t want that, but Julian wouldn’t even let me refuse, forcibly deciding for me. Sunlight filtered coldly through a gap in the curtains, spilling onto my pillow. There, my phone screen silently lit up. A small red dot in the top left corner pulsed, a steady rhythm in the darkness.
Julian gently tucked a strand of hair behind Tiffany’s ear. “Tiffany, Scarlett is counting on you.” Tiffany nodded obediently: “Don’t worry, Julian, I’ll take good care of Scarlett, I won’t let you worry at all.” She deliberately emphasized “take care,” then casually picked up a fruit knife from the bedside table. My back instantly tensed. Tiffany slowly, deliberately, brought the fruit knife closer. The sharp blade glinted coldly in the sunlight. “Scarlett, let me peel an apple for you. Julian said you love apples the most.” She smiled sweetly, but the knife tip tilted subtly towards me. I wanted to escape, but I was utterly trapped. The blade slid slowly along the apple skin, each movement feeling like it grazed my own flesh. “Oh, I forgot.” Tiffany suddenly stopped, feigning surprise as she covered her mouth. “Scarlett can’t eat anything right now.” She then threw the perfectly peeled apple into the trash can, right in front of me. Just then, the hospital room door opened, and a middle-aged woman in an expensive suit walked in. It was Julian’s mother, Eleanor. “Tiffany! What are you doing?!” Eleanor snatched the knife from Tiffany’s hand, then tenderly gripped her fingers. “You’re pregnant, how can you be doing such rough work?” Tiffany shyly lowered her head: “Mrs. Hayes, I’m fine. I just felt so bad seeing Scarlett like this.” Eleanor swept a disgusted glance over me. “She deserves it! Crossing the road without looking, couldn’t even keep a baby. If she dies, it’s her own fault!” So that’s it. Tiffany was pregnant, that’s why they were so tolerant of her. Julian must have written a letter of forgiveness for me, allowing her to parade around in front of me like this. But she had a child. What about me?! Who would champion my baby, forcibly scraped away from me! Eleanor affectionately embraced Tiffany. “Come on, Tiffany. Come stay at my house. This unlucky place is bad for the baby, you should come less.” Then she cast a cold glance at me. “Some people, even paralyzed, cling on desperately. If she were sensible, she’d just end it herself, instead of dragging others down.” Tiffany’s lips imperceptibly curled into a faint smile at that. Eleanor then asked, “By the way, how’s the flower you’re cultivating? Has it been saved?” Tiffany frowned, a worried expression on her face. “Not too well. Not enough fertilizer.” Her gaze meaningfully landed on me. Julian followed her line of sight and casually said, “Then just plant Hope in the flowerpot as fertilizer.” Hope?! That was the name I’d chosen for my future child! I mustered every ounce of my strength, forcing out two raspy words from my throat. “H-Hope…” Julian paused, then walked over to stroke my face, but his words sent me plummeting into an icy abyss. “Don’t worry, it’s just the placenta. It’s a waste to throw it away, so it’s perfect for the Immortal Bloom.” I tried to speak again, but those two words had drained all my energy. Tiffany feigned concern, pulling at his sleeve. “Julian, won’t Scarlett be sad?” “This is her compensation for your flower.” Julian comforted her, patting her hand, then turned to me. “Scarlett is the most understanding, right?” I glared at them, wishing I could flay that despicable pair alive. Tiffany suddenly gasped, “Oh no, I forgot to water the Immortal Bloom! It’ll wither if I’m late!” Julian followed her without hesitation, not even sparing me a glance as he left. Eleanor lingered, looking down at me from above. “See? If you have any conscience left, you’d pull out your own oxygen tube. Don’t get in the way of their happy family of three.” The moment the door closed, a single tear finally slipped from the corner of my eye. I slowly raised my trembling hand, little by little, clenching it into a fist. Julian would never know that my office windowsill was once filled with potted plants. Every single one was a gift from him. And every single one, I had secretly watered with my own blood. They would grow wildly within months, blooming into eerie flowers, only to wither, rot, and turn into a pool of putrid blood at their most vibrant moment.
Laughter occasionally drifted from the hallway, carried by the orderlies. “That paralyzed woman in Room 302, I heard her husband and his mistress are getting married, and she’s still clinging to life in the hospital.” “Her mother-in-law comes here every day to curse at her. If it were me, I’d have jumped off a building already.” Their discussions were low enough to be discreet, yet loud enough for me to hear. At noon, Tiffany pushed the door open: “Scarlett, I’m here to see you!” Her eyes were curved in a sweet smile, but right in front of me, she unplugged my oxygen tube and plugged in her phone to charge. “Oops, I forgot you needed to breathe.” She feigned surprise, but made no move to plug it back in. “Just bear with it, my phone’s only at 10%.” My chest heaved violently, and my vision swam with black spots. She, however, smiled, pulled out her tablet, and played a video. It was our wedding home. Julian had Tiffany pressed against the bed, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. “Julian, who’s better, me or Scarlett?” Tiffany’s voice in the video was soft and seductive. Julian chuckled softly, “Of course, you are.” “Then when will you make me the real Mrs. Hayes?” “What’s the rush?” His voice was full of satisfied laziness. “Once her blood is drained, I’ll marry you.” The video cut off abruptly. Tiffany tilted her head, looking at me: “Scarlett, your face looks so pale. Are you too touched?” I trembled all over, desperately pressing the call button. When Julian and Dr. Reed burst in, Tiffany suddenly shrieked, stumbling backward! “Ah! My stomach!” She clutched her abdomen, her eyes watery as she looked at Julian. “I was just so happy Scarlett could move, I wanted to help her up, but she shoved me hard!” Dr. Reed immediately rushed to check her condition, and Julian’s gaze instantly turned icy. “Scarlett!” He grabbed my throat. “You knew Tiffany was pregnant and you still pushed her!” I wanted to protest, but the lack of oxygen made breathing difficult, let alone speaking. Tiffany, hiding behind Julian, sobbed: “Scarlett, you also lost a child, how could you be so vicious…?” Julian’s face darkened further. He said coldly to me, “From today on, all your medical expenses are cut off. When you realize your mistake, then we’ll resume payments!” After they left, I clutched my throat, gasping for air. Listening to the faint beeping of the monitor, I silently made a resolution. … Three days later, Julian received a call from Dr. Reed. “Mr. Hayes, it’s terrible! Your wife, along with her leg, is completely gone!” When Julian rushed to the hospital, the entire cold storage unit was empty. Inside the cabinet where my severed leg should have been, there was only a pool of dark red blood, slowly dripping through the cracks. “How could this happen?!” At that very moment, across the city. The night wind howled as I stood on the edge of a tall building, looking down at the entire city. My phone screen lit up, Julian’s messages popping up one after another. “Scarlett, where are you?” “Stop messing around, come back!” “What happened to your leg?!” I let out a soft chuckle, my finger tapping lightly on the screen, replying: “Julian, haven’t you always wanted to know why my blood is sweet?” At the hospital. Julian furiously kicked open the door to my room, only to find the bed empty. “Where is she?!” He grabbed the night orderly by the collar. “Where is my wife?!” The orderly trembled in fear: “Ms. Evans left by herself last night. She said she was going home.”
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