After the Heart Transplant, I Possessed My Betrayer’s New Love

My consciousness was trapped within my own heart, reawakening inside Vivian Vance.

It was then I understood. That so-called car accident was nothing but a smokescreen. Their real target was my heart.

Eden Brown, my fianc of five years, had ended my life with his own surgical knife.

He covered me with a white sheet, declared my death, then turned and gently told Vivian, "Vivian, I've given you her heart."

Vivian Vance, my best friend for ten years, was the ultimate beneficiary of this murder.

It turned out that on the third day after I was declared brain dead, Eden had personally closed my eyes and then performed the heart removal surgery.

They treated me as mere "consumable material" to provide a heart, unaware that from inside Vivian's chest, I could clearly see all their ugly faces.

The shadowless lamp in the operating room was colder than any light in a morgue. Eden, in his sterile gown, his profile as handsome as ever, looked at Vivian with a tenderness I had never seen before. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to Vivian's forehead.

"Vivian, don't be afraid."

"With her heart, you will be reborn."

"From now on, you must love me twice as much, for her sake too."

Vivian lay on the adjacent operating table, her face pale, yet a victor's smile played at the corners of her eyes.

"Eden, I've waited for this day for so long."

"Chloe... will she disappear completely?"

Eden's hand, holding the scalpel, was steady, without a single tremor. He even let out a soft chuckle, his tone resolute and cruel.

"Of course. I've already signed the death certificate."

"An accidental car crash, brain death. No suspicious details."

So, that sudden car accident was meticulously planned by them.

My best friend and the man I loved most.

We were the envy of outsiders, an unbreakable trio. Eden was a top cardiac surgeon, I was a rising designer, and Vivian was our mutual friend.

I believed our friendship and love were indestructible.

I shared everything with Vivian, including my fianc, Eden.

I thought she was frail and needed care, so I asked Eden to look after her more.

I thought she was lonely, so I invited her to live with us in our wedding home, sharing meals and space.

I even gave her the wedding gown I designed myself, which was meant for me, as a birthday gift.

I said, "Vivian, when you get married someday, I'll design an even more beautiful one for you."

At the time, she was moved to tears, hugging me and saying, "Chloe, you're the best friend I'll ever have."

Looking back now, it's nothing short of ironic.

The moment the scalpel sliced open my chest, I felt no physical pain.

Only the excruciating agony of my soul being ripped apart.

I watched my heart, held in Eden's hand.

That heart that had beaten for him for ten whole years.

He didn't spare it a single glance, walking directly to Vivian.

"Vivian, close your eyes. It'll be over soon."

He soothed her tenderly, just as he had soothed me countless times when I was ill.

No, even more gently than he had ever treated me.

As my heart was placed into Vivian's chest, as her blood merged with my heart.

I thought my soul would dissipate then and there.

But a powerful suction force firmly locked my consciousness into that confined space.

I, inside Vivian's body, had come back to life.

Vivian's heart transplant surgery was a tremendous success. Eden had pulled nearly every string he had, arranging for the best post-operative care team for her. He stayed by Vivian's bedside twenty-four hours a day, never leaving her side. And I, like a spectator trapped in a cage, was forced to watch their display of affection. I couldn't control this body, couldn't even make a sound. I could only listen, only watch.

Watching Eden peel apples for her, feed her water.

Watching him carefully wipe her body, his eyes full of tenderness and adoration.

All of these had once been exclusively mine.

Vivian revelled in it all, like a queen, openly accepting Edens devoted service.

Eden, I want a bubble tea from that new shop downstairs, full of taro paste and boba.

Eden immediately put down what he was doing, without a hint of impatience.

Okay, you lie still. Ill go get it right away.

After he left, the fragility on Vivians face vanished instantly, replaced by a triumphant smirk. She took out her phone, opening a photo of Eden and me. In the picture, I was smiling brightly, leaning intimately against Edens shoulder. Vivian extended a finger and harshly swiped across my face.

Chloe, you really were a fool.

Did you truly believe Eden loved you?

Hes loved me since college. Being with you was just because your heart was healthy enough to prolong my life.

Your fianc, your love now, even your heart is mine.

Everything you had, Ive taken. Arent you happy?

My consciousness was screaming, yelling. But translated to this body, it only caused Vivians fingertips to tremble slightly. She frowned, dismissed it, and deleted the photo.

Soon, Eden returned with the bubble tea. He carefully inserted the straw and held it to Vivians lips. Vivian took a big gulp, but then suddenly grimaced.

Ugh, why is it so sweet? Its sickening.

She pushed the bubble tea away with a look of disgust. Eden looked somewhat perplexed. Didnt you used to love this kind, full sugar?

I dont know, it just suddenly feels really nauseating, Vivian said, annoyed.

My consciousness sneered.

Thats right, Vivian had an insatiable sweet tooth, while I absolutely detested overly sweet things. My greatest love was bitter black coffee.

The game, it seemed, could now begin.

The next day, Vivian was finally able to get out of bed and walk around. Eden supported her as they strolled through the hospital garden. As they passed the hospital coffee shop, Vivians steps involuntarily halted. The rich aroma of coffee wafted over, and I felt a long-lost craving. Vivian, however, covered her nose. Its so bitter, lets hurry up and leave. Yet, her feet seemed to be rooted to the spot, unable to move. Her mouth, under the strong influence of my consciousness, even opened uncontrollably.

I want a cup of black coffee.

Eden froze. He stared at Vivian, his eyes filled with scrutiny and confusion.

Vivian, you never drink coffee, especially not black coffee.

Vivian also panicked. She could feel that uncontrollable urge within her body. I I dont know, I just suddenly wanted to try it, she stammered, explaining. Eden gave her a deep look, but eventually conceded.

Alright, Ill get you one, but you can only have a small sip.

When that piping hot, pure black coffee was handed to Vivian, my consciousness trembled with excitement. Under Edens gaze, Vivian reluctantly took a small, disgusted sip. The bitter liquid slid down her throat, and she almost gagged. But the next second, a strange sense of satisfaction spread from the location of her heart, through every inch of her body.

It was my lingering obsession, finally sated. Vivians expression transformed from a pained grimace to a momentary look of bewilderment and comfort. This subtle change did not escape Edens eyes. His brow furrowed even deeper.

On the day she was discharged, Eden took Vivian back to the home he and I had shared, our marital home. Everything there was exactly as it had been before my death. My design drafts lay scattered on the desk, my clothes still hung in the wardrobe, and the air even carried the faint scent of my usual perfume. Eden apparently had no intention of clearing out my belongings.

The moment Vivian stepped through the door, she eagerly asserted her claim. She walked into the walk-in closet and threw out all my clothes.

Eden, throw away all this junk, its an eyesore.

A flicker of displeasure crossed Edens face, but he complied. He packed my clothes one by one, as if packaging a past he had personally buried. I watched my favourite red dress, destined for an awards ceremony, being nonchalantly shoved into a trash bag. I remembered smiling and asking him, Eden, do I look pretty in this? He had kissed my eyes then and said, My Chloe looks beautiful in anything. The vows still echoed, but his heart had changed.

That night, Eden and Vivian lay on the bed that had once been ours. In the darkness, I could feel Vivians anticipation and excitement, and Edens slight distraction. Vivian wrapped herself around him like a snake.

Eden, Im all better, we can

But Eden suddenly rolled over, turning his back to her.

Vivian, you just had surgery. Your body still needs to recover.

Vivians body stiffened. This was the first time Eden had refused her since theyd been together.

Eden, whats wrong?

Eden was silent for a long time before he finally whispered, "Nothing, go to sleep."

But I knew he wasn't asleep. Because in the dead of night, I heard him unconsciously murmur a name.

"Chloe..."

That single "Chloe," like a bolt of lightning, struck Vivian's heart. It was also like a powerful shot of adrenaline, injecting itself into my consciousness.

The next day, Vivians face was dark. She confronted Eden, Whose name did you call last night? Eden, in the middle of tying his tie, paused, his eyes a little evasive. I just had a dream, dont overthink it. Vivian wouldnt let it go. You dreamt of Chloe? Are you still thinking about her? Edens patience seemed to wear thin. He turned, grabbing Vivians chin, his grip a little rough. Vivian, Chloe is dead. The one standing alive in front of me now is you. Stop being unreasonable. His tone was cold, and Vivians eyes immediately welled up. Im sorry, Eden, Im just so scared. Im afraid you still love her. Edens expression softened. He sighed and pulled her into a hug. Fool, youre the one Ive always loved. For her, perhaps there was some affection, but more than that it was guilt. I will spend my life making it up to you.

The same old excuses. I watched their saccharine charade with cold contempt, finding it nothing short of nauseating.

After Eden left for work, Vivian was alone in the empty mansion. Bored, she turned on the TV, but every channel irritated her. Finally, her gaze fell upon the cluttered design desk in the study. On it were my unfinished graduation design drafts. It was the work I had poured countless hours into, intending to submit it to an international competition.

Vivian walked over, picked up a design draft, and scoffed contemptuously. What a mess. She casually picked up a pen, intending to doodle on it. But the moment the pen tip touched the paper, her hand moved beyond her control. Driven by my intense consciousness, her wrist began to dance across the paper with a professional, fluid grace completely unfamiliar to her. The lines, contours, and details I had conceived a thousand times in my mind were now manifesting through her hand. Vivians eyes widened in horror. She wanted to stop, to throw the pen away. But her body, as if possessed, completely disobeyed her. She could only watch herself, stroke by stroke, completing my unfinished work to perfection.

When the final stroke fell, the entire design draft burst forth with astonishing vitality. Vivians hand finally regained control. She dropped the pen as if shocked by electricity, backing away rapidly. She stared at the flawless gown on the paper, cold sweat trickling down her back.

No I didnt draw this

Its Chloe its her! Shes back!

She shrieked, stumbling out of the study. And I, looking at the design draft that embodied all my dreams and hard work, for the first time, felt the thrill of revenge in anothers body.

This, was just the beginning.

When Eden returned, he found Vivian huddled in the corner of the sofa, trembling.

Whats wrong? You look awful.

Vivian clung to him like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline, her voice shaking.

Eden, theres a ghost! Theres a ghost in the mansion!

Its Chloe, shes back! Shes possessed me!

She incoherently recounted what had happened that afternoon. Edens brows furrowed deeply. He led Vivian to the study. When he saw the completed design draft, his pupils constricted sharply. The style of this drawing, the unique brushstrokeswithout a doubt, they belonged to Chloe. It was even more mature, more stunning than Chloes previous works. This was absolutely something Vivian, who knew nothing about design, could not have drawn.

Eden, believe me, I really didnt draw it! Vivian cried.

Eden silently gazed at the drawing, his eyes dark and unreadable. After a long moment, he slowly spoke, his voice hoarse.

Vivian, youre too tired, youre hallucinating.

There are no ghosts in this world.

He took Vivian back to their room, even giving her a sedative injection. Vivian quickly fell asleep. Eden, however, returned to the study alone. He stood before the design desk, his fingertips gently tracing the paper, as if caressing a precious treasure. His gaze held a mixture of obsession and pain that I had never seen before.

Chloe is that you?

Are you really back?

He whispered, like a madman.

From that day on, Eden grew increasingly strange. He began calling my name, looking at Vivians face. One time, Vivian was humming a song in the kitchen, her favorite pop tune. Eden walked over, hugged her from behind, and whispered in her ear, Chloe, stop singing, I want to hear you sing Moonlight. Moonlight was my favorite song. Vivians singing stopped abruptly, her body stiff. Eden, what did you call me? Eden, as if waking from a dream, released her. Nothing, I misheard.

Another time, they went to a restaurant for dinner. Vivian ordered her favorite strawberry cake. Eden, however, frowned, pushed the cake aside, and replaced it with a cup of black coffee. Too many sweets are bad for your heart, he said flatly. Then, he gazed at Vivian, a hint of expectation in his eyes. Try this, youll like it. Under my influence, Vivian no longer resisted black coffee as much. She hesitantly took a sip. Eden, seeing her lack of disgust, actually let out a satisfied smile. That smile held a morbid fascination and a maniacal joy. Vivian felt a chill run down her spine. Who did Eden truly love? Was it Vivian Vance, or was it the shadow of Chloe, wearing her skin?