Chapter 1
After yet another round of chemotherapy, I was suffering terribly from the side effects.
I had no choice but to go online to distract myself.
By chance, I came across an anonymous post on a website: “I’ve fallen in love with my bone marrow recipient’s boyfriend and don’t want to donate anymore. Am I a terrible person?”
The comment section was filled with understanding and encouragement:
“You’ve done nothing wrong. Love is free, and so is your body.”
“Don’t let moral obligations tie you down. If he loves you too, be brave and be together.”
“Perhaps he’s only staying with her out of a sense of duty.”
Then came her update:
“Thank you everyone! I gathered my courage and confessed. We’re officially together now.”
She attached a photo to announce their relationship:
It was a picture of them holding hands, fingers tightly interlaced.
On the man’s wrist was a clearly visible tattoo of a willow tree.
That was the symbol representing my name.
The man who once vowed to stay with me through life and death was now holding another woman’s hand, feeling nothing but “duty” toward me.
I left a comment below:
“I’m probably the dying person in this story. Here’s wishing this couple a lifetime of happiness.”
Less than two minutes after posting, the thread was locked, preventing any new comments.
No matter.
I immediately created a new thread:
“My fiancé fell in love with my bone marrow donor. While I’m dying, he’s taking her on a trip to Japan. Her excuse this time is ‘pre–surgery anxiety.“”
I attached two images as proof:/
My diagnosis report and our engagement invitation.
11:24
My Fiancé Fell in Love with My Bone Marrow Donor, and They Decided to Let Me Die
Chapter 1
Early morning. Dr. Sinclair opened the door to my hospital room.
I cooperated with his rounds as usual, answering the same old questions.
Before he finished, 1 suddenly asked, “Dr. Sinclair, am I dying soon?”
“I had a dream last night where I experienced various ways of dying–drowning, being hit by a car, choking on food. Is this some kind of premonition?”
Dr. Sinclair, in his fifties, was a kind–hearted man.
After three years together, he had become like a friend to me. Hearing my words, his eyes suddenly reddened.
But years of professional training made him hold back his emotions as he objectively analyzed, “Willow, dreams have no scientific basis. They only indicate you’re under tremendous stress lately.”
I remained silent.
Dr. Sinclair gently stroked my head, as if comforting a child.
“Are you upset because Chuck took Isa abroad to relax?”
I nodded in admission.
Isa claimed she had pre–surgery anxiety, so Chuck took her to see the sunrise at Mount Fuji.
It’s supposedly a sacred place where wishes made during the first ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds can
cure all illnesses.
I’ve never been there.
Every day I could only look at the same unchanging scenery through my hospital window. It wasn’t fair.
Dr. Sinclair tried to comfort me: “They won’t be gone for long. Chuck said that once they return, the surgery can proceed, and afterward, you can go wherever you want.”
But I’d heard such promises more than a hundred times.
“Just wait until Isa finishes her six months of studies.”
“Just wait until Isa successfully gains weight.”
“Just wait until Isa overcomes her psychological burden.”
“Just wait until Isa…”
Since she first agreed to donate bone marrow, there had been endless excuses for delay.
I was trapped within these four walls.
My Fiancé Fall in Love with My Bone Marrow Donor, and They Decided to Let Me Die
Chapter 1
Waiting for them to give me a chance at rebirth, three years had slipped away.
Now, I was done waiting.
“Dr. Sinclair, how much time do I have left?”
He didn’t know how to respond.
“Please tell me. I want to know.”
He clenched his jaw, trembling slightly: “About three months, I’d say.”
I felt no fear or dread–I actually felt relieved.
At least I still had three months.
After Dr. Sinclair left, I called Chuck.
The phone rang six times and was answered just before going to voicemail.
“Why are you calling? Something wrong?”
His cold tone mixed with impatience, like he was dealing with a spam call.
I was momentarily stunned, and then someone else took over the phone.
“Hello, Willow. Did you call because you knew we’re going to see the sunrise tomorrow and wanted to remind me to stay safe?
“Don’t worry, Chuck is taking excellent care of me. He even applies sunscreen for me when we go out. He’s so
attentive.
“There are so many fascinating things here that you’ve probably never seen, being stuck in the hospital all day, hahaha…”
Isa’s laughter was full of energy, not at all like someone suffering from anxiety.
I couldn’t be bothered to wade through her lies and truths.
“Put Chuck on the phone.”
Suddenly, the line went quiet.
After three seconds, intermittent sobbing broke the silence.
n–sided to Let Me Die
