My Fiancé Gave His Heart to Another,I Gave Myself a Second Chance

Three days before my surgery, I scrolled past a post. The title read, What do you do when you fall for someone else while trying to save the one you love?

I clicked in, just to kill time.

The top answer ran long. His fiance had leukemia, and recently he'd finally found a perfect bone-marrow match.

The girl told him she was timid, terrified of the operation, so he flew out and stayed with her for three months.

Little by little, her innocence won him over.

Watching her smile, he suddenly couldn't bear to send her up onto an operating table.

Every detail in that post lined up with mine.

My fianc, Phineas Harding, had vanished for three full months when my illness worsened, when I was scared and helpless, using a business trip as his excuse.

He said she was timid. He'd forgotten that I was the one gravely ill, that I could be afraid too.

What he didn't know was that I didn't need his rescue.

In those three months, my parents had found me a suitable donor as well.

I would travel across the world and be reborn.

When the doctor came by for his routine check, I called him back, my voice low.

"Could I borrow your phone for a second?"

To keep close tabs on my condition, Phineas had added a few of the doctors and nurses as contacts.

I took the phone and opened his profile.

His posts showed me only the last three days.

I used to think he just wasn't one for sharing online. It never crossed my mind that this three-month blackout was aimed at one person. Me.

Before he left, Phineas had knelt on one knee beside my hospital bed, holding my hand almost like a prayer.

"I'll bring you a surprise when I'm back. Be good and wait for me."

So the surprise he'd told me to wait for was watching his lies unravel with my own eyes.

I swiped, scrolling slowly down.

In three months, Phineas had posted over a hundred times.

He'd walked someone else through fields of spring flowers, strolled bustling night markets, ridden a Ferris wheel hand in hand under the sunset at an amusement park.

Most posts came as photo grids, and in nearly every one was a face, bright and alive.

A girl bursting with energy. She'd flash peace signs at the camera, puff up her cheeks and pout at Phineas.

Every shot was carefully chosen. The favoritism in them was impossible to hide.

The captions flowed soft as water.

"Your smile is the happiness that found me late."

"Don't be afraid. I'll be by your side the whole way."

Each picture, each line, was a fine silver needle pressed into my heart, the pain delicate and endless.

For three months, I'd been trapped in a stark white hospital room.

The sickness ground me down again and again. Through countless days and nights I'd curled up alone on that bed, every breath edged with pain.

And Phineas had put me out of his mind, guarding someone else's smile a thousand miles away.

I picked up my own phone and started a video call.

It connected almost instantly.

The image swayed, and I saw a noisy airport waiting lounge, crowds flowing past, alive with chatter.

Phineas's gentle face appeared on the screen soon after.

"You've lost weight again?" He searched my face, his voice quick with concern. "Are you feeling worse? I'll come back right away, I'll be there with you, don't be scared."

I watched him in silence and said nothing.

He started to say more, but a lively girl's voice cut him off.

"Phin, how much longer? My legs are killing me, I just want to board already."

On the other end, Phineas froze.

I let out a soft laugh and asked what I already knew. "Is that your sister?"

He fumbled, his hand jerking up on instinct to cover the lens.

"No, just a girl I met out here. She's timid, didn't dare come to a strange city alone, so I'm looking out for her."

"Is there really nothing you've been hiding from me?" I asked softly.

Phineas hadn't yet figured out how to brush me off when the girl's voice cut in again:

"Who are you on the phone with? Is it that fiance of yours?"

She pitched her voice up on purpose, all sugary and coaxing. "Phin, can't you stop fussing over other people for once? I haven't even been to Searborough yet. You have to take me out more, okay?"

After that, Phineas didn't deny it right away.

He lowered his voice, smiling as he made his promise, "Don't be like that. Once we're settled, I'll take you out for dessert."

Something sour rose in my chest.

There was an intimacy in his words that crossed a line, and Phineas still thought I couldn't hear it.

Only once he'd soothed the girl did he turn his attention back to me:

"We're about to board. Beryl, be good. Wait for me to come back."

After gentling me along like a pet, he ended the call himself for the first time.

I fell back against the bed.

The registry's match text had already come through to my phone.

Two people had come back as preliminary matches.

One was that girl. The other was overseas.

And yet, over the phone, Phineas hadn't said a single word about the match.

The next day, I'd just finished breakfast when Phineas appeared in the doorway of my ward, travel-worn and rumpled.

He hugged me carefully, his voice aching with the kind of tenderness you give something fragile. "Beryl, you really have lost weight."

I murmured back, letting Phineas fuss around me, adjusting the bed.

But over his shoulder, I caught sight of a figure in the doorway.

The girl wore a brightly colored dress, fresh and radiant, wildly out of place in this hospital room.

Nothing like me, drained of life.

"Her name is Mona Carlton."

Phineas said it warmly, his warm fingertips brushing my cheek. "Still a college student. Quirky little thing. I'm sure you'll find her charming too."

His tone was easy and open, without a trace of guilt.

As if this girl who'd taken up three months of his time were just an ordinary friend.

Mona stepped into the room and tugged at Phineas's sleeve.

"Beryl, Phin's told me so much about you," she greeted sweetly.

Phineas lifted his hand right on cue and patted the top of her head.

Watching them, so easy and close, my heart sank, little by little.

"Phineas." I leaned back, slipping out of his arms. "I already got the text from the registry."

They both froze at once, and at the same instant looked away from me.

I pressed my pale lips together. "This Miss Mona must be the matched volunteer, then. Should she go get a physical first"

"Beryl!" Phineas cut me off sharply.

My head snapped up.

It was the first time he'd ever been angry with me, and it was over a girl he'd known for all of three months.

Phineas knotted his brows and tucked Mona behind him:

"Mona's timid to begin with. Can't you stop cornering her with talk like that?"

She'd signed up herself, become a volunteer donor herself, and all I'd done was ask one question.

This was a pre-op step that had to do with my life.

In Phineas's eyes, though, it had become me deliberately giving her a hard time.

Mona instantly lowered her head and shrank behind Phineas, timid. Her fingers clutched the hem of her dress, her eyes rimmed red:

"I'm so sorry, Beryl. Is it me, being here, that's making you uncomfortable?"

I smiled and didn't answer her.

Phineas answered for me instead. "Of course not. Beryl's health has nothing to do with you."

Then he looked at me with something like disapproval:

"You frightened her."

Try as he might to hide it, I could still see the displeasure in his eyes.

"You lost your temper at me, over an outsider." I stated it plainly, just the fact. "Phineas, you promised you'd never snap at me."

Phineas blinked, then let out a small, helpless laugh.

He thought I was jealous. He lifted a hand to pinch my cheek, a light, indulgent exasperation in his voice.

"Beryl, stop fussing. What are you imagining now?"

"We've spoiled you too much, that's the problem. It's made you read too much into everything."

I turned away from his hand.

Lowering my eyes, I rubbed at the needle marks dotting my skin.

"Phineas, Miss Carlton came to Searborough because you promised to show her around. She isn't here to donate marrow at all, is she?"

The room went dead silent.

That silence said more than any excuse could.

I leaned back against the headboard and turned my gaze to the window, not looking at him anymore.

"I'd like to be alone for a while."

"Go take her sightseeing. Searborough is huge. Flower fields, night markets, theme parks, it has everything."

Anyone could see I was sulking.

And somewhere underneath it, I was hoping. Hoping he'd notice how hurt I was, that he'd stay and coax me out of it.

But Mona only dabbed at her eyes. "Phineas, let's just forget it. Beryl isn't well. It's fine if I skip the sightseeing."

If anything, those words made up his mind for him.

"This has nothing to do with you."

He cut her off, pressing his temple with a tired sigh. "I don't go back on my word. Don't put yourself through that."

The two of them walked out of the room side by side.

Phineas pulled the door shut behind him. The latch clicked, leaving me alone in a cold, empty world.

A nurse pushed the door open, medication in hand.

She looked at the empty room, a little confused. "Mr. Harding isn't with you? He just got back, didn't he? Why would he leave already?"

I gave a faint nod.

"Honestly, that man. You're about to have surgery and he does this?" The nurse muttered, disapproving. "And he brought a girl back with him, too."

"It's all right," I said softly.

The needle slid into pale, thin skin.

Every mark on my arms was proof of pain I'd ridden out alone.

My parents were running all over the world, chasing down doctors, searching for a marrow match for me.

The only one beside me was Phineas.

He'd proposed when we graduated college, and then I had the bad luck to be diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia.

Phineas swore on the spot that he would never abandon me.

At least both our families were well-off, with the means to pay for my treatment.

No worries about money, and a beautiful love to hold onto.

I used to believe that if I just fought hard enough against the illness, Phineas and I could walk into the future together.

Maybe I was simply too naive.

By the time the treatment was done, the sky had gone dark. The nurse smoothed the tape into place and gave me the usual reminders, no moving around, no getting too worked up.

"And stop dwelling on the things that upset you."

She was trying to comfort me. "Didn't the match come through overseas? Your father even called today, asking us to help get everything ready."

"Mm. My flight's tomorrow morning." I gave a small smile.

The nurse tucked in the corner of my blanket. "Is Mr. Harding buying his own ticket?"

I froze for a beat, and a hollow ripple spread through my chest.

I'd booked Phineas's ticket long ago. Same flight as mine, a window seat.

But I had no intention of giving it to him.

I shook my head, my voice flat. "There's no need. He isn't coming."

The nurse looked startled.

"You're still sick. How can you take a long international flight all by yourself?"

"I can manage on my own."

The hardest rounds of chemo I'd always carried alone, and the searing pain when the illness flared, I'd endured that alone too.

I'd never once cried out.

Whether he was there beside me or not, maybe it had stopped mattering a long time ago.

The nurse's face softened with pity. She swallowed whatever else she'd meant to say and pulled the door shut behind her.

I picked up my phone again.

A few messages from Phineas waited on the screen.

I opened them. Photos, the backdrop an upscale steakhouse.

In them, Phineas looked relaxed, his expression soft and warm.

Then a voice message. The moment I tapped it, Mona's chirping voice filled the ward:

"Beryl, I'm so sorry! Phineas said since it's my first time in Searborough, he just had to show me around so I wouldn't leave with any regrets."

The noise made me wince, and I instinctively turned the volume down.

I looked at the photos again.

A romantic candlelit dinner. Elegant plating.

But sitting on the table was a plastic cup of mango dessert balls, jarringly out of place.

It hit me then, the memory of last month, when I'd started the new medication.

My tongue had gone bitter, and I couldn't help calling Phineas, complaining in a small voice.

I told him the side effects were brutal. Not just the bone-deep exhaustion. Even breathing tasted bitter. I said I'd kill for those mango dessert balls from the cart outside our old college.

He listened quietly, then cut me off in his gentlest tone:

"Beryl, I'm not in Searborough. How am I supposed to buy them? Don't be so spoiled."

"Just wait till I'm back, okay? Good girl."

I believed him. I thought Phineas was out there working for our future.

The mango dessert balls I never got to taste, the tenderness and care I waited for and never received, all of it had fallen into Mona's lap instead.

On the screen, Phineas's profile photo was still a picture of the two of us.

In it, the way he looked at me brimmed with love.

Maybe he really had loved me.

He'd just changed his heart. And now that love was like a dessert past its expiration date.

Nothing left but bitterness.

It wasn't until the dead of night that Phineas came back to the ward.

He still reeked of alcohol.

He took the folding cot from the cabinet and set it up with practiced ease.

All those nights at my bedside had carved the habit into him, one he couldn't shake.

Phineas peeled off his coat and draped it over the edge of the cot. A woman's perfume drifted off it, cloying and sweet, not the scent I ever wore.

I turned my head and watched him without a word.

"Still awake?" His voice was hoarse. "My fault. I shouldn't have kept Mona out so late."

His apology felt like checking off a task.

"I'm not angry," I said softly.

Phineas seemed to relax. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached to take my hand.

I shifted just slightly, slipping away without making anything of it.

"Phineas, I need surgery."

The words weren't even fully out before his face changed. It went cold in an instant.

"You just can't let Mona go, can you? You know she's timid, that she's scared of surgery, and you're still bent on forcing her to donate?"

Understanding crashed over me in a single beat.

Phineas had it all wrong. He'd already convicted me before I'd said a thing.

He thought I'd brought up the surgery now to use the match as leverage, to strong-arm Mona into donating her marrow.

In his mind, I was no longer the fiance who needed his protection.

I was a shameless woman who would coerce someone else.

"I didn't force her." My voice was light as a feather, threaded with a trace of exhaustion. "Every volunteer in the registry has to sign an agreement. They're there by choice."

"Phineas, you say she's timid. Then have you ever stopped to think? Would a timid girl run off to a strange city with a man she's known all of three months?"

When the words faded, the ward went so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Phineas's profile looked hard in the moonlight, nothing like his usual warmth.

"Beryl." He was clearly holding back his anger. "When did you become this selfish? Slandering someone just to serve your own agenda."

So this was what it felt like, to have no defense anyone would believe.

The pain in my body, the kind I could barely stand, crested in that exact moment.

Any other time, Phineas would have rushed to hold me, doing whatever he could to ease it until the doctor arrived.

Now he didn't even seem to notice. My suffering meant nothing to him.

"I don't want to fight with you."

"Just calm down on your own. I'm going to call Mona. She gets scared by herself."

Before he could leave the room, I stopped him.

"I get scared too."

Every single moment the illness tore at me, I was afraid.

Phineas paused, just barely, and turned back in the dim light of the hallway, as if there was something he wanted to say.

His phone cut him off.

The screen showed Mona's name.

He picked up, his brow knotting as he listened, and walked out of the ward without looking back.

He left only one line behind. "Beryl, stop making a scene. Whatever it is, it can wait until I'm back."

I leaned against the headboard, the words I wanted to say lodged in my throat.

Everything in front of me blurred.

The tears came down like rain.

I had never once doubted that Phineas truly loved me.

But I had forgotten that a true heart can change in an instant.

I sat up and calmly tore the plane ticket I'd bought for Phineas into pieces.

Along with the love I'd once felt for him, and the last tear I would ever shed over him, I left it all behind in Searborough.

Once a nurse helped me change my clothes, I dragged my suitcase out and took a cab to the airport.

On my phone, Phineas's messages kept popping up, one after another.

"Something came up on Mona's end."

"I'll come back once I've sorted out her situation. Just wait for me like before, be good and wait, okay?"

Looking at the words flashing on the screen, I lowered my eyes and blocked every one of Phineas's contacts.

I would not stand in place and wait obediently for him to come back.

And I had no need to be saved by him.

I was flying to a foreign country, racing toward a new life of my own.