ManyWriters

In the third year of my marriage to Emerson.
I discovered a modified organ donation agreement hidden in a secret compartment of the study.
The name of the recipient had been changed from my mother's to Melody's.
Years ago, when my mother was on the brink of death from heart disease, we had finally found a matching donor.
But seconds before the surgery, we were told the donation was canceled.
My mother passed away in the end, and it was Emerson who helped me through the devastating grief.
Melody, Emerson's half-sister.
"Dear Melody, I've finally found a suitable heart for you, even though I had to steal it from someone else. But I'd do anything, even compromise my conscience, if it means keeping you alive."
"I'll marry Zoran and spend the rest of my life atoning for this. You don't need to feel guilty, just live happily."
"Dear Melody, it's been three years since I married Zoran, but I still love you."
999 letters were stored with the agreement, each word brimming with Emerson's unspoken love.
It turns out, the marriage I was so proud of was nothing but a complete sham.And so, I agreed to the hospital's overseas assignment.

My Husband Stole My Mother's Heart for His First Love

I thought I saw Emerson suddenly appear in the doorway, holding a painting. I immediately recognized Melody's distinctive style - we had dozens of her works around the house.


"Did I just hear you say something about leaving?"


Emerson casually placed the painting against the wall, nodded with satisfaction, then turned and walked towards me.


I hugged Mantou tightly, forcing a smile. "Oh, I was just playing with Mantou."


He looked at me, raising an eyebrow with a hint of indulgence in his eyes. "How childish." He sat down beside me and pulled me into his arms.


"It's Melody's latest piece. What do you think? Isn't it beautiful?"


My heart sank, and my eyes dimmed. "Mm-hmm."


Melody's mother and Emerson's father had formed a blended family.


Everyone praised him for being such a devoted brother. No matter how busy he was, he always made time to support Melody at her art exhibitions.


To make Melody happy, our home was filled with paintings Emerson secretly bought. At first, I used to tease him about being the world's best big brother.Emerson finally noticed my low mood. He leaned down to kiss my forehead and said softly:


"The company's been so busy lately, I've barely had time to come home. Once things settle down, how about I take you to Hawaii? What do you say?"


"Mm," I responded in a voice as soft as a whisper.


Emerson said the company was busy, but two hours ago, my best friend Vivienne sent me a message saying she saw Emerson with Melody at a jewelry store, trying on rings.


In the photo she sent, Emerson's expression was serious yet gentle, and standing next to Melody, they looked just like a couple.


Vivienne warned me in her message: "Even though Melody is Emerson's sister, they're not related by blood. You should tell Emerson to be more careful, so people don't get the wrong idea."


Melody is getting married. Her fiancé is also the son of a leading company in New York City. Emerson has been busy preparing for her wedding lately.


I've mentioned before that Emerson should keep his distance from Melody, but Carlisle Emerson laughed it off, saying I was overthinking and that they have a purely sibling relationship.This type of so-called "sibling love" - I no longer wish to delve into it. Anyway, I'll be leaving soon, and this charade is nearing its final curtain.


"Zoran, what's wrong?" Emerson's voice pulled me from my thoughts.


I lifted my head, meeting his concerned gaze. He reached out to touch my forehead, his brow furrowing slightly. "You don't look so hot. Are you feeling under the weather? Should we head to the ER?"


"It's nothing. I'm probably just a bit worn out lately," I said softly, averting my eyes from his.


He nodded, a hint of apology in his eyes. "Let's go to the doctor for a check-up tomorrow, okay? Don't push yourself too hard."


"Alright. If it's a cold, I don't want to risk spreading it. I'll crash in the guest room," I said, scooping up the bedding and leaving without looking at Emerson.


In the dead of night, just as I was about to drift off, there came an urgent knocking at the door.


"Zoran, what the hell is this?" Emerson's voice was low and intense as he slammed two divorce agreements against the door.


Chapter 2