ManyWriters

On the day of Zoran's pharmaceutical company's IPO, I was back in the hospital for another skin graft due to an infected ulceration on my burn-injured face, as I couldn't afford treatment.
Zoran video called me: "How does it feel to be abandoned now, after choosing a wealthy heir Elias for money back then?"
He noticed I was in the hospital: "What are you getting fixed this time? You plastic surgery freak."
I forced a laugh through the pain: "Mr. Carlisle, this time I'm hoping for a skin transplant."
He scoffed and hung up.
But what he didn't know was that I wasn't there for plastic surgery.
Three years ago, in that fire, I traded half my face to save his life.

To Save My Boyfriend Through Plastic Surgery, He Insulted Me Instead

I woke up again, losing consciousness once more.


My body, long depleted from malnutrition, couldn't handle such intense emotions.


He shouldn't have known. He shouldn't have investigated.


When I regained consciousness this time, I wasn't in the rundown shared ward of the public hospital, but in a bright, clean private room.


Seeing me awake, he suddenly lifted his head, tears glistening in his eyes.


He reached out and grasped my hand, lowering his head to bury his face at the edge of my bed. "Vivienne, I was wrong, I was so wrong..."


"How could I have been so stupid..." Zoran muttered, clutching my hand tightly as if afraid I'd vanish from his life. "It's my fault, Vivienne. I'm the one who caused you so much pain..."


"How could I have been so foolish back then? You clearly... I should have known at that moment that you must have had your reasons... We loved each other so much, how could I have believed you'd actually cheat?"


Chapter 8