Reborn at 24, I No Longer Donate My Kidney to My Nephew

In my last life, I gave my nephew a kidney. It cost me my wife and my family, and yet my brother and his wife hailed me as the man who saved their child.

My parents even signed over their entire estate to me on the spot.

What none of them ever told me was that the estate had been stolen from my real parents in the first place.

I spent thirty-some years alone with nothing, and in the end I died of kidney failure.

At my bedside, my nephew looked at me like I disgusted him, and every word out of his mouth cut straight into me.

"All that over one kidney. This whole family poured thirty-two years of blood and sweat into you. You could go out and buy a kidney and it wouldn't cost half this much."

I breathed out my last foul breath somewhere in that fading, and I died.

When I opened my eyes again, I was somehow back in the year I turned twenty-four.

My nephew was sick. The whole family got tested, and I was the only match.

My brother and his wife knelt on the floor and begged me. "Miles Armstrong, your brother is begging you here. Save the boy."

My parents told me the same thing, that I had to save their only grandson.

Looking at them, eyes streaming, I didn't go soft this time.

...

"Sorry. Russell Armstrong's life matters, but so does mine."

I turned Oswald Armstrong and his wife down flat. The tears in the corner of Oswald's eye hadn't even fallen yet, and when he heard me say it, he stared at me, stunned.

"Miles, how can you think like that? Russell is the only child in this family. He's the light of Mom and Dad's lives."

After I refused him, Oswald's face darkened, and the warmth he'd had toward me a moment ago was gone.

He'd been kneeling. Now he stood up.

His wife, Candice Lambert, was on her feet even faster than my brother. As she rose she brushed off knees that hadn't touched a speck of dirt, and shot me a look of pure contempt.

"Miles, Russell adores you, and you can be this cold-hearted about it. Real nice. Really something."

Candice looked at me like she wanted to kill me.

The two of them put on a perfect little show of it: all sweetness when they need you, all knives the second they don't.

"I'm upset too that Russell is sick. But I have my own life to live."

Last time, whatever they said, I did. This time I have to think about myself.

I pulled out my phone and called my wife, Greta, right there.

Last life, I insisted on giving Russell my kidney, and in her fury Greta divorced me.

Second time around, I can't afford to be reckless.

As I turned to walk out the door, Candice's voice reached me again.

"Oswald, you'd better think of something. If Miles won't give Russell a kidney, what happens to Russell? And if he and Greta have a child, we're finished."

My feet stopped dead. That conversation of theirs, why hadn't I heard it in my last life?

So the scheme had been in place from the very start.

I kept walking, and ran into my parents.

Last life, the moment they heard I was donating a kidney to Russell, they'd rushed to draw up the estate transfer papers for me.

I was so moved back then. It was only much later that I found out the whole thing was a front.

I wondered what they'd do this time, once they learned I wasn't donating.

The call hadn't connected yet when my father, Duane Armstrong, spotted me and hurried to wave me over.

"Miles, son, this whole family's hopes are riding on you now. You have to save Russell. He's only eight years old."

My mother, Florence Whitney, gripped my hand tight.

"Your father's right. Russell is the only grandson your father and I have. If anything happens to him, what are we supposed to do?"

Before, hearing them talk like this, I'd have felt it right along with them. Now I felt nothing at all.

"How is Russell your only grandson? I can have children too."

That stopped their crying. Florence stared at me blankly, then turned to look at Duane.

"Mom, Dad, I've got somewhere to be, so I'll go first. Oh, and I've already told my brother and his wife: I won't be giving Russell a kidney. You've got money, don't you? Better hurry up and find a kidney donor."

With that I turned and left. I had a wife to go win back, and I couldn't waste another minute.

After four or five calls, Greta Pruitt finally picked up.

"Miles, haven't I made myself clear? We're over. Go donate your kidney to your nephew."

She was still angry. The kidney donation was what we'd been fighting about, and it had gotten ugly.

Before, I never understood why she took the stance she did. I thought she was just a cold, heartless person.

Now I knew she'd been right all along.

"I'm not donating to Russell. Greta, from now on I'll do whatever you say. Please don't divorce me."

She'd still been fuming, but the moment she heard that, all the anger went out of her, and her voice turned soft.

"Miles, you weren't like this before. You never listened to a word I said. You accused me of having no compassion, of not treating your family like my own. What changed in you all of a sudden?"

"Greta, let's talk in person. There's a lot I need to say to you."

I wanted to see her right now.

In my last life, because I insisted on donating that kidney, we divorced, and in the weeks that followed, the strain and the anger of it got to her. Only later did I learn that after our divorce, she lost the baby.

When I found out, I was full of regret. But Oswald said to me, "Little brother, with everything we've got, you can have any kind of woman you want down the road. Don't take it so hard."

And I thought he was right. Greta and I had been married two years, no child had come, and we fought all the time.

She was always pointing out the little faults in my family. She'd say things like, "Mom and Dad shouldn't spoil Russell the way they do. They're going to ruin him."

And I'd say, "Russell's their grandson. What's wrong with them doting on him? He's willful now, sure, but I trust the children in this family. His character won't turn out bad."

In that life I wouldn't tolerate a single bad word from Greta about my family.

There was one thing she said again and again: A man like you shouldn't get married at all. You should just spend your whole life with your family.

I hated hearing it back then. Whenever she said it, we'd have a huge fight.

It's different now. I ignored her warnings, forced my kidney on Russell, and in the end I destroyed my own home and was left with nothing and no one.

Living it over, my heart just isn't in the same place.

In my last life, the moment I heard I could give Russell a kidney, I was thrilled and proud, because I thought it was such a meaningful thing to do.

Only later did I realize I was the only one who ever went in for the tissue matching.

When they were begging me to donate, oh, they laid it on thick. If I'd asked for the stars out of the sky, they'd have promised to climb up and pick them for me.

Oswald and Candice didn't just kneel to me. They made Russell kneel too, swearing he'd honor me above all else for the rest of his life.

And Duane and Florence went so far as to sign the family's property rights over to me.

Back then I truly believed my family loved me best, that they'd never harm me.

On the other end, Greta hesitated a moment, then finally said, "All right. I'm home. Come back."

I hadn't expected her to still be at the apartment. I raced home, terrified that if I was a minute late she'd already be gone.

When I rushed in, out of breath, she was sitting on the living room couch, looking at her phone, her packed suitcase by her feet.

So she really was about to leave?

She saw me come in, put her phone away, and handed me a divorce agreement.

"I was going to wait until after your surgery to divorce you. But since you're back now, let's just sign it."

Her tone was cold. She clearly didn't believe me when I said I wasn't donating the kidney.

"Greta, I really am not donating the kidney. I'm not lying to you."

I could understand how she felt. If I were her, I wouldn't quite believe it either.

I remembered that this kidney thing had blown up into a huge fight between us.

Greta had tried to stop me from donating, and I'd called her heartless and told her to get out.

I knew how deeply I'd hurt her, both in what I did and in what I said.

One sentence about not donating wasn't going to be enough. Of course she didn't believe me.

Greta glanced up, her face blank.

"Miles, knowing how you usually treat your family, do you really think I'd believe you? The two of us don't see this the same way. Let's not stay tied together anymore. Let's set each other free."

I wasn't going to accept that.

I was about to explain when Duane's call came through again.

Wasn't this the perfect chance to prove it to Greta?

I answered and put it on speaker.

"Miles, I'll ask you one last time. Are you sure you won't donate a kidney for Russell?"

I answered without a moment's hesitation. "I'm sure. I will not donate a kidney to Russell."

"You, youfine. Miles, I gave you your chance. If you're going to be this stubborn, there's nothing I can do. Don't come back to this family again."

Duane thought that would scare me. It didn't scare me at all.

"That family you're talking about, I won't be coming back to. That family is yours, not mine."

I didn't wait for Duane to say anything else. I hung up.

I looked straight at Greta. She blinked, as if she still couldn't believe what she'd just seen and heard was real.

She reached out and touched my forehead, then touched her own.

I didn't move. I let her do it.

"Greta, I don't have a fever, and I'm not lying to you"

Living it all over, I'd seen so many things wrong, and I couldn't lay it all out at once.

Then it hit me. In my last life, Greta had already been pregnant at exactly this point, and while we were fighting so bitterly, my own stubbornness had cost me my child.

I grabbed Greta's hand and started for the door. She jumped and pulled back.

"Miles, what are you doing?"

"Greta, we're going to the hospital for a checkup. You're already carrying our baby."

I turned my head to tell her. I couldn't see my own face, but I knew my eyes had to be bright right then, full of hope.

Greta froze, her brow creasing slightly as if she were thinking something over.

"That's not possible, Miles. My period just ended, and I've never been regular anyway."

"Let's go get it checked. Trust me."

I had endless patience now. I could get Greta to listen to me, and I could prove that what I said was true.

Half-believing, half-doubting, she let me pull her to the hospital.

I knew she didn't fully trust me. But she was willing to give the two of us a chance.

When Greta went in for the exam, I was so worked up. In my last life I'd lived past fifty, but I had never once felt like this.

It was a nervous kind of feeling, but a good one all the same.

While I was anxiously waiting for Greta, I ran into Duane and Florence. The moment Florence saw me, she came storming toward me.

"Miles, you've let us down so badly. This whole family was counting on you. You gave us your word, and now you go back on it?"

"How are you going to face your brother and his wife, and Russell?"

I lifted my eyes to the woman I'd called Mom for over twenty years. I was sitting in a hospital, and the first words out of her mouth weren't a question about why I was here. She walked in and started scolding me.

Why had her favoritism been so obvious, and why had I never once seen it in my last life?

Maybe it was because in my last life I'd spent all my time chasing their approval. As long as they approved of me, I'd do anything they asked.

"Doesn't my brother have plenty of money? Tell him to hurry up and register online to search for a kidney donor. He'll definitely find a better match than mine."

I knew the money they had was mine to begin with, and I'd seen exactly what kind of people they were. But I understood this wasn't the moment to break with them openly.

For now I said the right things to get them to leave quickly. They couldn't find out yet that Greta was pregnant.

Duane just glared at me, wearing that look of deep disappointment. I still remembered what he'd said on the phone about not letting me come home.

They must have really been in a rush, because they didn't stay long.

After they left, Greta came out soon after, and I hurried over to her.

She looked stunned, the test result in one hand, the other resting on her belly.

"Greta, I wasn't lying to you, was I? You're pregnant, aren't you?"

I told her, excited, and only then did she look up at me.

"Miles, how did you know I was pregnant?"

She asked me, puzzled. I only smiled and didn't tell her the truth.

Even if I had, she wouldn't have believed me.

"You can't divorce me now. We're having a baby."

I held her hand tight. She still asked, uncertain, "You're really not donating a kidney to Russell?"

"No, I'm not. Let's go home."

I said it with total conviction, but I could see it in Greta's eyesshe didn't fully trust me.

In my last life, after Greta and I divorced, she first lost the baby, and then things never went smoothly for her again. In the end she came to a wretched fate.

Greta was silent the whole way. I knew she still needed time to work through all of it.

I'd assumed Oswald and the others were doing everything they could to find a kidney for Russell. That wasn't it at all.

They were looking for a donor, yes. But their eyes were still fixed on me.

Seeing that the emotional appeals no longer worked on me, they came up with another plan.

The next day, before I was even out of bed, Florence showed up.

She knocked, and I opened the door. The moment she stepped inside she looked around the room, then asked, "Greta's still here?"

"This is her home. Where else would she go?"

I knew she hadn't come with good intentions, and she meant me no good either, so I threw the question back at her on purpose.

Florence flushed red on the spot, put in her place.

"Miles, we all know that your sudden change of heart about donating a kidney to Russell has everything to do with Greta's influence. But we're the ones who are your family. Russell is your own nephew. You heard what your brother and his wife said, and your father and I have made our position clear too. If there's anything you're not happy with, go ahead and say it."

I stared at Florence's face, and only now noticed I looked nothing like her at all.

Her coming here to talk to me about this on purpose was no sudden whim. The few of them had clearly planned it out ahead of time.

The more they did this, the more it showed how guilty they felt.

But since she'd said as much, I might as well name my terms.

"First, my decision has nothing to do with Greta. I decided on my own not to donate. From now on, stop dumping all your dirt on her."

"Second, since you told me to name my terms, then I won't hold back. Your show of sincerity isn't enough. I want all the family's assets."

I said it with a dead-serious expression, not a trace of joking.

Florence stared hard at my face, and finally she stood up in alarm.

"Miles, do you know something?"

"Is there something you're hoping I don't know, Aunt?"

The moment I called her thatAuntFlorence went pale with fright.