Reborn I Refuse to Marry the Freeloader

My boyfriend, Samuel Sullivan, donated a kidney to his childhood sweetheart.

Then he turned around and proposed to me.

In my last life, I said yes to that proposal.

After the wedding, every burden in the house landed on me and me alone.

Samuel only had one kidney. He couldn't overexert himself, couldn't be under stress, couldn't do anything heavy.

So I earned the money and ran the household.

I dropped dead of overwork at forty.

And Samuel took my money and married his childhood sweetheart.

The two of them went on to live a shameless, carefree life.

So this time, reborn, when Samuel got down on one knee again

I turned him down flat.

"A useless man with only one kidneywhy on earth would I marry you?"

"Mavis, marry me!"

Samuel knelt before me on one knee, roses in one hand, a diamond ring in the other.

His face was still a little pale from the kidney surgery a few days back.

But there was a smile at the corner of his mouth.

He was certain I wouldn't say no.

After all, we'd been together seven years.

Marrying him had become an obsession for me.

Even after he'd stood me up over and over for that girl.

Even after he'd ignored every objection I raised and donated his kidney to her anyway.

There was no way I would ever refuse him.

His buddies stood behind him, egging him on.

"Say yes, say yes!"

Someone hurried me along. "Mavis Gilbert, just say yes to him!"

"Come on, isn't marrying Sam the thing you dream about?"

"Sam's proposing to you himself nowwhat are you even waiting for?"

It had gone the same way last time. A month before, Samuel had just given Tilda Fox his kidney.

Barely out of the hospital, he proposed to me.

He said I was the one he loved most.

Donating to Tilda was only because they'd grown up together, he said.

He couldn't stand by and watch Tilda die.

He asked me to understand.

Last life, I went soft, and I said yes.

But after the wedding, Samuel used his health as an excuse and refused, no matter what, to go to work.

He lay around at home all day on his phone, playing games.

He didn't lift a finger with the housework.

The moment I said a word about it, he played the patient card.

"I only have one kidney. I'm more fragile than other people!"

"The doctor said it himselfI can't do heavy work! I can't overexert myself!"

"Mavis Gilbert, do you really resent seeing me doing okay?"

Even Samuel's mother jabbed a finger in my face and screamed at me.

"You were the one clawing to marry my son! Did he force you?"

"My son's been sleeping with you for seven yearsif it weren't for him, who would want you?"

"You married into the Sullivan family, so you'll wait on my son properly!"

So I worked by day and did the housework by night.

Samuel and I never had a child, our whole lives.

Because Samuel said his kidneys were damaged, and he couldn't perform in that department.

The bitterness ate at me, and the exhaustion piled on.

Just past forty, I dropped dead at my desk.

I hadn't been gone long when Samuel and Tilda registered their marriage.

He moved her into my house.

They took my death compensation and lived it up, free and easy.

Thinking back over everything from that life.

And looking now at the Samuel kneeling in front of me.

I gave a cold laugh. "Samuel, you're nothing now but a useless man with one kidney."

"Why on earth should I marry you?"

Samuel froze, staring at me blankly.

Tilda Fox rushed over, grabbing my hand to smooth things over.

"Mavis, how can you talk about Sam that way!"

"He gave me his kidney because he couldn't bear to watch me die of my illness!"

"You can't look down on him just because he did something good!"

She'd just gotten out of the hospital, her face and lips both pale.

On top of that, she was so worked up her body swayed like she was about to faint on the spot.

Samuel, still kneeling, shot up and caught Tilda before she could fall.

The look he gave me was tinged with disgust.

"Mavis! When did you turn this vicious?"

"I only donated one kidney to Tilda. What was I supposed to do, stand there and watch her die?"

Samuel's buddy chimed in too. "Right, it's just one kidney."

"Sam and Tilda grew up together!"

Samuel came over and reached for my hand. "Mavis, quit being difficult! I know you've always wanted to marry me! Well, now I'm agreeing to marry you!"

Agreeing to marry me.

The nerve.

The way he said it, you'd think I owed him a thank-you.

I stepped back and slapped his hand away.

"Samuel, I'm not being difficult, and I'm not joking with you!"

"I don't just refuse to marry you. I want to break up with you!"

"You're down to one kidney now. Who knows if things don't work down there anymore either!"

"There are plenty of healthy men out there. Why would I marry a cripple like you?"

At that, Samuel's face went red in an instant.

He hadn't expected me to say something like that in front of so many people.

"Mavis! Don't push your luck when I'm handing you a favor!"

"You're almost thirty, and you've been sleeping with me for seven years. Besides me, who else would even want you?"

"I'll give you one day to think it over. If you keep making a scene, don't blame me for actually breaking up with you!"

Samuel scooped Tilda up and left without a backward glance.

It was always like this.

Every time we fought, he'd leave me alone to cool off.

And I'd sit there clutching my phone, sending him long, pleading paragraphs.

Then lie awake all night.

His buddies looked at me with contempt, like I was something distasteful.

Everyone left, and I was standing there by myself.

There'd been no heart in that proposal.

Nothing but the flowers and the ring in Samuel's hand, no decorations at all.

On the way back, a light rain started up.

I took a cab home to the place Samuel and I rented together.

I pushed the door open and saw Samuel in an apron, cooking porridge in the kitchen.

In my past life, after we were married, forget cooking porridge.

If the soy sauce bottle tipped over, he wouldn't so much as set it upright.

I never expected he'd actually cook porridge for Tilda.

Seeing me come in, the corner of Samuel's mouth curled up.

As if to say, in the end you still came home like a good girl to apologize.

I didn't look at him. I walked straight toward the bedroom.

But Samuel rushed forward and grabbed me.

"Tilda's sleeping in there. Don't go in yet."

I frowned at him. "If I don't go in, how am I supposed to change?"

I'd gotten caught in the rain coming back, and my clothes and hair were soaked through.

He clicked his tongue. "It's just a little rain, you're fine."

"Tilda's the one who's sick!"

Suddenly I remembered our third anniversary, Samuel's and mine.

I'd booked the restaurant well ahead of time that day.

But over one phone call from Tilda, Samuel left me sitting alone in that restaurant for three hours.

It had been drizzling outside that day too, and I'd walked home in the rain.

When Samuel found out, he'd said the exact same thing.

It's just a little rain, you're fine.

I let out a cold laugh.

So it turned out that from that moment on, Samuel's heart had already started to drift.

He pointed at the electric fan beside us. "Sit in front of that for a bit, it'll dry fast!"

Feeling my clothes cling damp and sticky against my skin, I shoved Samuel off me.

Samuel, I pay rent on this place too. Fine, you brought Tilda in without asking me. But now you won't even let me into my own room!

I moved toward the door, and Samuel planted himself in front of it.

Mavis, can you please stop making a scene?

Tilda and I both just got out of the hospital, and we got caught in the rain today. Instead of showing us a little concern, you want to steal Tilda's room out from under her!

I actually laughed.

You're patients? Then why aren't you in the hospital? Why didn't you take Tilda home? Why come to the apartment?

Samuel, you're the one who dragged Tilda right in front of me!

I shoved past Samuel and reached for the door, but he clamped down hard on my wrist.

Then he threw me to the floor, breathing hard.

Mavis, that's enough!

If Tilda can't rest and her condition flares up, you'll pay for it with your life!

I hadn't braced for it, and the small of my back slammed into the wall.

It hurt so much the tears came anyway.

I looked up into Samuel's eyes, ugly with rage.

For the first time, it hit me that I had never really known him at all.

In my last life, he was always saying he was sick.

Forget carrying anything heavy. He'd make me hand him a bottle of water.

He couldn't lift heavy things, he said. He couldn't wear himself out.

But the way he'd just shoved me? Nothing about that looked like a sick man.

A low cough drifted out of the room.

Samuel pushed the door open and hurried inside.

Tilda was awake. She caught his hand and asked if she was the reason we'd fought.

Sam, don't be angry with Mavis. She didn't mean it!

Samuel soothed her in a gentle voice.

It made me sick. I pushed the door open, walked in, and started packing.

The sight of it stopped Samuel cold.

In a cold voice he asked, What are you doing?

I shot him a look. You didn't want me in here, right? So I'm leaving. I'll clear out and give the two of you your space!

Mavis! Do you have to make everything sound like a jab?

Tilda threw off the blanket and started to get out of bed, but Samuel pressed her back down.

Ignore her. If she wants to throw a fit, let her!

Let's see how long she can keep it up!

I packed a few things I wore often and took my documents.

On my way out, Samuel was spooning porridge into Tilda's mouth, one bite at a time.

Ha. How very tender of him.

I checked into a hotel near the office for the night.

The next morning at work, I went straight to my boss.

There was one overseas posting to Italy. It was so far away that no one at the company wanted it.

In my last life, my boss had come to me about it.

I'd studied Italian for a while in college, and she thought I was the best fit.

But Samuel had proposed, so I'd turned it down.

This time, I would not waste an opportunity that good on a useless man.

When I volunteered to go, she was thrilled.

You really want to take the Italy posting? Your boyfriend doesn't mind?

We broke up!

She studied me for a long moment, then slid a form across to me. Fill this out and turn it in. You can leave next week.

Next week. A whole week left.

Enough time to pull myself out of Samuel's life for good.

I took the afternoon off and went back to the apartment I shared with him.

No one was home. I let myself in.

The kitchen sink was piled with dirty dishes, the table cluttered with takeout containers.

Dirty clothes heaped on the couch, the trash can overflowing.

A message came in from Samuel. Clean the place up when you get back from work.

Still ordering me around like he always had.

In my last life, after Samuel and I got married, he was constantly making me do the work.

Fetch his tea, pour his water, rub his shoulders, knead his legs.

The slightest discomfort and he'd have me waiting on him.

And it didn't stop there. He came to me for money to cover his living expenses too.

He said it like he had every right. You think I want to ask you for money? It's only because I'm not healthy, I can't overexert myself!

If you don't give me money, you're forcing me to go to work! And if I work, I could die young. Mavis, is that what you want, to watch me die?

I turned off the screen and walked straight to the room.

Let them clean up their own garbage.

Samuel and I had lived together for two years. This little rented apartment was full of nothing but memories of the two of us.

I still remembered when we'd first moved in, how he'd held me and said that once he made money someday,

he'd buy me a bigger place for sure.

We'd planned out the future, so excited about all of it.

When had it all started to change?

A year ago, when Tilda was diagnosed with kidney failure.

He started dropping me the second Tilda called.

He took the bone broth I'd simmered for two hours and gave it to Tilda to build up her strength.

The claw-machine plushies he and I had won together, he handed all of them to Tilda to cheer her up.

Deep in a drawer I dug out a photo of a little rabbit.

Samuel and I had won it at a ring-toss game a year earlier and kept it for three months.

Tilda said she wanted it, and Samuel took it to her without a word.

By the time I found out and rushed over, Tilda had already stewed the rabbit.

She sniffled and said she hadn't known it was a pet rabbit, that she'd thought it was for eating.

I sorted my things into two bags.

One to ship home, one for the trash.

Then I set the key on the entryway table and sent Samuel one last message.

Samuel, let's break up!

Blocked. Deleted.

This life, I was never wasting another minute on a useless man.