They Called Me Heartless, So Reborn, I Watched Them Self Destruct Chapter 05

They Called Me Heartless, So Reborn, I Watched Them Self Destruct Chapter 05

After donating his kidney, Ethan went back to the hospital for his follow-up appointments on his own. The results were less than reassuring across the board.

Dr. Bennett advised him to stop pulling all-nighters, avoid strenuous physical work and high-stress jobs, and stay on a strict schedule of long-term follow-up care.

My mom sent a string of crying emojis in the family group chat.

[What are we going to do? Will Ethan ever be able to work normally again?]

No one responded.

A little while later, my dad tagged me.

[You understand these risks, don’t you? Ask the doctor.]

I stared at the message and smiled.

I replied:

[Dr. Bennett explained all of this before the surgery. He should follow his doctor’s orders.]

My mom immediately sent a voice message.

I tapped it open.

[Claire, Ethan is already going through all this, and you’re still being cold about it? You knew from the beginning that donating would affect his health. Why didn’t you try harder to talk him out of it?]

Of course.

It didn’t matter what answer I gave. They had already decided I was wrong.

I didn’t argue.

Instead, I clipped a short section from the recording of that day and sent it to the family group.

My own voice came through the speaker.

[Are you sure you understand that the surgery could affect your future medical clearances and your physical capabilities?]

Ethan’s voice followed immediately.

(Yes. I understand.)

Then my dad’s voice.

[He’s doing the right thing. We’re behind him.]

My mom’s voice came next.

[If it means saving Lily, then we’re behind him.]

The group chat went completely silent.

A few minutes later, Ethan left the group.

My dad messaged me privately.

[Did you really have to make the whole family look this ugly?]

I replied:

[I didn’t make anything ugly. I’m just letting your own words speak for themselves.]

He never answered.

A month later, Ethan went through the final medical evaluation for the Federal Aviation Research Center.

He failed.

The reason was stated in plain English:

His post-operative condition did not meet the program’s health requirements.

His advisor called him personally.

“Ethan, no one doubts your ability. But this position has mandatory medical requirements.”

That night, my mom called me in tears.

“Ethan locked himself in his room. He won’t listen to anyone.”

“Get him a therapist.”

“Come home and talk to him.”

“I have my dissertation defense tomorrow.”

My mom lost her temper.

“He’s your brother!”

I held the phone to my ear, suddenly exhausted.

“Mom, in my last life… back then, when I tried to stop Ethan from donating his kidney to Lily, you all said I was the reason he would lose the woman he loved.”

There was silence on the other end.

I continued.

“This time, he saved the person he loved. What’s left now is the price he has to pay.”

The next time I saw Ethan was at Lily’s recovery party.

Calling it a recovery party was generous. It felt more like a public tribute.

The banquet hall was decorated with pink and white balloons.

Lily wore a pale-colored dress. Color had returned to her face, and she looked so much better than she had in that hospital bed.

She stood beside Ethan with one hand gently hooked around his arm.

Ethan had lost a lot of weight. He supported himself with a black cane in his right hand.

It wasn’t for show.

After the surgery, he’d suffered a lumbar plexus nerve injury, and his recovery hadn’t gone as well as they’d

hoped.

The doctors said it might not be permanent, but he would need extensive physical therapy for the time

being.

My mom kept saying it was temporary. My dad said he’d get better too.

Ethan himself refused to acknowledge how serious it was.

But the hesitation in his right leg gave him away every time he walked.

I hadn’t wanted to come.

Lily was the one who messaged me personally.

[Claire, I want to thank you in person. I also want all of us to be okay again.)

I stared at the words “all of us to be okay” for a long time.

In the end, I went.

Not because I wanted to make peace.

I went because I wanted to see for myself what was left of this whole ridiculous spectacle.