My Husband Died Twice And Both Times He Lied Chapter 01

My Husband Died Twice And Both Times He Lied Chapter 01

To save me, my husband and my best friend had volunteered as organ donors, only to die in the process.

My mother-in-law cried so hard she suffered a stroke that left her paralyzed.

Everyone said I was selfish, that I had cost three people their lives.

For three years, I drifted through each day in a haze, using work to numb myself.

I had even chosen the day I would die: the day my mother-in-law finally recovered.

Then, on May 1, I was on the expressway headed back to the hospital when traffic came to a complete stop.

The radio had been playing love songs, but the broadcast suddenly cut in with an urgent plea for help.

“There’s a pregnant woman in distress up ahead. If any driver nearby is an OB-GYN, please come immediately!”

The situation was too critical to ignore.

I had no time to stay buried in my grief. I grabbed the emergency medical kit I kept with me and pushed my way through the crowd.

A man stood with his back to me, his eyes red as he held the woman’s hand and choked out, “Baby, hang in there, okay? The ambulance is almost here. You know I won’t go on living if you die.”

The moment I heard that familiar voice, I froze where I stood.

Then the woman said weakly, “Silly, don’t cry. The three of us are going to be fine.”

I stared at the side of his face. It was identical to my late husband’s.

The pregnant woman was also wearing the necklace I had once given my best friend.

A bystander spotted the medical kit in my hand and shouted in relief, “She’s saved! A doctor is here!”

The man looked up in excitement, and our eyes locked.

…

It felt as if I had swallowed a blade. I could not force out a single word.

I stared at the shock in the man’s eyes, and my entire body turned colder and colder.

Three years ago, Gavin Weston had died in an expressway crash while protecting me.

Before he died, he touched my face, unwilling to close his eyes.

“Evelyn, what will you do if I die?”

I broke down completely. I held the urn with his ashes and moved through life like a ghost.

When I was at my lowest and had nearly hurt myself, my best friend, Maya Cole, stayed by my side and helped me climb out of the darkness.

Yet less than six months later, when she took me skiing to help me clear my head, she died protecting me in the snow-covered mountains.

Losing the two people I loved most in a single year tortured me every day until living felt worse than dying.

But now, reality hit me like a slap across the face.

All that pain had been built on a lie.

A sharp pain stabbed through my heart. Seeing me standing there stiffly, Gavin showed no guilt at being caught. Instead, he looked perfectly calm.

“We can talk about us later. Help Maya deliver the baby first.”

I took a deep breath, forced down the storm inside me, and reached out to check Maya’s contractions.

“Carry her into the car. I’m giving her Pitocin now.”

The moment I said that, Maya’s tears spilled over.

“Evelyn, we had our reasons. Please, you have to save my baby!”

They had their reasons?

I could not help laughing bitterly inside.

They had kept me in the dark for three years and made a fool of me. Year after year, I had filed appeal after appeal, desperate to uncover the truth, breaking down helplessly every time. So who exactly was supposed to be the one with excuses?

“Maya, I’m a doctor.”

Gavin anxiously lifted her into the car, his voice unbearably tender.

“Don’t cry. I’m here. No one is going to hurt you.”

I faltered for a second and tried to ignore how intimate they were.

But when I asked about the medications Maya had taken during pregnancy and even the places where her body was most sensitive, Gavin answered every question without hesitation.

It felt as if a thousand needles were pricking my heart, the pain spreading in tight, relentless waves.

After a full hour, the baby’s bluish head finally began to crown, and I let out a long breath of relief.

Then Maya suddenly screamed, “It hurts! It hurts so much!”

The next second, a sudden weight slammed into me. I failed to steady myself, and my forehead struck the car window. Blood poured down my face.

“Evelyn Bennett, what the hell did you do to Maya?”