When He Took a Heart to Repay a Debt

On Valentine's Day, my mother-in-law died unexpectedly at the hospital.
And my husband, Matthew Cleese, one of the city's top surgeons, personally signed the organ donation consent form. Then he scrubbed in and harvested her heart himself.
I stormed into the hospital, ready to tear him apart, but he just coolly pulled off his surgical gloves and spoke.
"Clara’s mother has been waiting for this heart for three years. She saved my life once. This is the only way I can repay her."
"Clara only has her mother left in this world. Can't you be a little more generous? I'll bring her to lay flowers at your mother's grave, and we'll put this behind us."
I stared at the shrouded body on the operating table, then at the fresh bloodstains on his white coat, and fought the urge to laugh.
He still doesn't know.
The heart belonged to his mother.

1
Clara White, a vision of innocence in a white dress, hid behind Matthew, looking fragile and pitiable.
Matthew pursed his lips, avoiding my gaze. His voice was low and strained. "Three years ago, I was doing volunteer medical work when I was caught in a landslide. Clara and her mother risked their own lives to dig me out."
"They never asked for anything in return… Now her mother is sick. I can't just let her die."
He paused, then added, "Your mother was old. She didn't have much time left anyway. It's better that she served a final purpose."
I stared at him in disbelief.
This man, who had shared my bed for five years, was suddenly a stranger, and the coldness emanating from him was terrifying. How could a doctor, a healer, say something so callous?
He hadn't even visited his mother once since she'd been admitted. He'd just cut out her heart and handed it over to Clara White's mother.
I had thought he was ruthless enough to sacrifice his own mother for a debt of gratitude.
I never imagined he thought he was sacrificing mine.
The absurdity of it was almost laughable.
"Matthew!" My nails dug into my palms. "My mother has never done anything to wrong you. How could you do this?"
"And the person who saved you back then, it was—"
Before I could finish, I was cut off.
Clara’s eyes reddened. "Miss Reed, I know a simple country girl like me can't compare to a lady like you."
"You have so many people in your life, but I only have my mother. If you're really that unhappy, you can take it out on me."
She raised her hand and began slapping her own face, one sharp crack after another.
Matthew grabbed her wrist, his voice softening. "Clara, stop. You don't need to apologize. This has nothing to do with you."
He turned on me, his voice sharp with accusation. "I never knew you could be so vicious."
"Clara isn't a monster like you. She's kind. Even after her mother's surgery was a success, she was worried about others. She begged me to donate the rest of your mother's organs to people in need. Why can't you be more like her?"
My voice was shrill. "Matthew, what gives you the right to make that decision?"
His eyes were like chips of ice. "I've already signed the consent forms. The body has already been taken away."
I looked into those cold, indifferent eyes and felt a chill seep into my bones. A sharp pain lanced through my heart. I felt a wave of injustice, not for myself, but for his mother.
After Matthew’s father had an affair, it was his mother who walked away with nothing but him. She raised him alone, working herself to the bone to give him a future.
And this was her reward.
I straightened my back, my gaze locking with his. I spoke each word with deliberate clarity. "Matthew, you will regret this."

2
My mother-in-law had treated me like her own daughter from the moment I married into the family. I couldn't let her suffer such an indignity.
But Matthew was now a celebrated expert, a titan in the city’s medical community. People were falling over themselves to do his bidding. How could an ordinary person like me possibly stand against him?
I tried contacting the media, but every outlet gave me the same canned response: "Ma'am, we can't run this story."
With no other options, I posted the truth online.
The post lasted less than a minute before my account was banned.
It was Matthew, of course.
"Don't waste your energy. You can't win against me."
The voice came from behind me. I turned to see him standing there, a look of weary condescension on his face. "Autumn, can't you just let this go?"
I clenched my fists, my nails breaking the skin of my palms. "Never."
I had already looked into it. My mother-in-law's condition hadn't been serious. It was a minor procedure, one that should never have been fatal.
Matthew had killed his own mother. And he wouldn't even leave her body intact.
If I let this go, I would be betraying the years of kindness she had shown me.
Matthew’s face darkened.
"Do you have any idea how many people in this city are begging me for a surgery slot? With a single nod, I have people who will eliminate any 'problem' for me."
He sneered. "Do you really think you stand a chance?"
I met his gaze, my voice calm. "Let's find out."
A vein throbbed in his temple before he turned and stormed away.
He wasn't always like this. He used to be the very picture of a compassionate doctor. He'd been scammed several times by people faking injuries on the street, but the next time he saw someone collapsed on the pavement, he would still rush to help without hesitation.
I had once warned him against being too trusting.
He had held me and said, "If everyone just stood by and did nothing, what kind of world would this be?"
"I'm not afraid of being scammed. I'm afraid that one day, there will be someone who genuinely needs help, and my hesitation will cost them their life. I wouldn't be able to sleep at night."
I don’t know when he changed. It wasn't just because of Clara. He had become addicted to the power and control his status gave him. He had started to look down on ordinary people.
I saw him again three days later.
He walked in with Clara in tow, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Clara's mother needs care. It's more convenient for her to stay with us. I've already agreed."
I sat on the sofa, watching them in silence.
Matthew suddenly exploded. "Autumn Reed, she is the woman who saved my life! Who do you think you're scowling at?"
I rose slowly, my voice devoid of emotion. "It's your house. You can let whoever you want live in it."
I knew the calm wouldn't last, but I didn't expect the frame-up to come so quickly.
I had just gotten back from meeting with a lawyer. Before I could even turn off the engine, my car door was yanked open. Matthew dragged me out, and I fell hard onto the pavement.
Before I could get up, his icy voice rained down on me. "Autumn Reed, I never thought you could sink this low."
"Hiring men to assault Clara? Are you even human?"
The disgust in his eyes was a physical blow, a knife twisting in my chest.
"You make me sick."

3
I knew Matthew could be cruel, but I never imagined this.
He fabricated the entire story and posted it online, painting me as a jealous monster who couldn't stand her husband's savior and had resorted to violence.
The post included a video from that day at the hospital, showing Clara on her knees, slapping herself.
The internet went into a frenzy.
【My God, what a toxic monster. This is disgusting.】
【She’s jealous of the woman who saved her husband’s life? I can’t even with this.】
【How can people like this exist? Go to hell.】
A tidal wave of hate crashed over me. My inbox was flooded with messages telling me to die. My personal information, including my home address, was leaked.
Matthew moved out with Clara, leaving me alone in the house.
Every night was a new terror. Banging on the door that lasted for hours. People throwing venomous snakes into my yard.
In just three days, I lost ten pounds.
I was too afraid to go outside, huddling in a corner of the house.
Eventually, I ran out of food. I put on a mask and a hat and slipped out, hoping to go unnoticed.
The moment I stepped into the supermarket, a man with bloodshot eyes charged at me.
"You bitch! You monster! Die!"
I dodged instinctively. There was a hiss of acrid white smoke as a searing pain erupted on my left arm. The fabric of my sleeve instantly corroded, turning black.
"You ungrateful snake! Women like you should be drowned!"
Security guards tackled him, but he continued to struggle and scream.
In the next moment, a tall figure stepped in front of me.
"I'm sorry, everyone. I know this is my wife's fault. And mine."
It was Matthew. His voice was gentle as he pulled me out from behind him, forcefully ripping off my mask and hat.
Someone in the crowd recognized me.
"It's her! The monster from the internet!"
"I can't believe I'm seeing her in person. Get out of here! I feel sick just being near you!"
I don't know who threw the first one, but soon eggs and rotting vegetables were flying through the air, splattering against me. Matthew, standing in front of me, was not spared.
A flicker of revulsion crossed his face, but he maintained his mask of a devoted, pained husband.
"I know everyone is angry, and I'm not here to make excuses for my wife."
"But I hope you can give her a chance to make amends for her mistakes. We will be holding a public apology tomorrow in the main square."
He dragged me back home.
I yanked my arm away, my voice like ice. "An apology? What apology?"
Matthew wasn’t angry. "You were in the wrong this time. You owe Clara an apology. I've already arranged it with her. As long as you apologize tomorrow, she'll agree to let this go."
I looked at his face and found it utterly laughable. He was the one who had put me in this hell, and now he was offering me a chance at forgiveness?
"I will not apologize," I said coldly.
He just smiled and took out his phone.
"Your mother's organs were donated, but there are still some ashes left. It's your choice. You can either show up and apologize, or you can say goodbye to what's left of your mother."
I stared at the crude jar he was showing me on the screen. A cold sneer touched my lips. "Matthew, those are your mother's ashes. Not mine."

4
At my words, the color drained from Matthew’s face.
"Autumn Reed, I've tried to be civil with you, but you keep pushing it."
"My mother treated you so well, and you have the nerve to wish death upon her? I won't let you get away with this!"
He grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the house.
When we reached the main square, he kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground. A crowd quickly gathered.
He stood over me, his voice ringing with self-righteousness.
"I'm sure you've all seen the news lately. I failed to control my wife, and she has done something terrible."
"I have brought her here today so that you can all witness her apology."
Clara appeared right on cue.
She glanced at me timidly. "Matthew, maybe we should just let it go. It was my fault for getting too close to you. It's only natural that Autumn would be upset."
"Miss White, you're too kind! Good people always get taken advantage of. She needs to be taught a lesson!" someone from the crowd shouted.
"Yeah! She should get on her knees and beg for your forgiveness! Everyone knows what she did!"
"We support you! Make her apologize!"
The roar of the crowd was deafening. My face was pale, my hands trembling.
Matthew sighed dramatically. "Clara, you're too good for this world. I worry people will take advantage of you."
"Since you're too kind to punish her, as her husband, I will make her apologize to you."
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and slammed my head against the pavement.
Crimson bloomed on my forehead, dripping down and blurring my vision. My strength seemed to drain away with the blood.
"Autumn Reed," Matthew commanded. "Do you admit you were wrong?"
I bit my lip, my voice a raw whisper. "I did nothing wrong. I will not apologize."
He seemed shocked that I still had the will to defy him. His grip tightened, and he slammed my head down again.
"Admit it! Do you admit you were wrong?"
The pain was all-consuming. I was close to breaking.
I bit down on my tongue. The sharp, metallic taste of blood cleared my head for a moment.
"I. Did. Nothing. Wrong."
If I admitted guilt here, in front of everyone, no amount of evidence would ever clear my name later. I would not give in.
Matthew sneered. "If you won't admit your mistake, then you leave me no choice."
He ordered someone to bring a bucket of cold water.
"As your husband, I can't stand by while you walk down the wrong path."
My whole body trembled at the sight of the water.
"Let… let go of me!"
He held me fast, forcing my head down toward the bucket.
Just as my consciousness began to fade, as despair took hold, a voice cut through the noise.
"Let go of my daughter."
My mother burst through the crowd and threw her arms around me.
Matthew stared at her, his face a mask of pure white shock. "How… How are you here?"

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