The Heart I Regret Giving

Three years after I faked my death, Helena and our daughter finally tracked me down.

To escape them, I had held a knife to my own throat, desperate to force them away. But then my seven-year-old daughter, Zoe, wrapped her small hands around my mothers ventilator plug, her eyes cold.

Helena stood right behind her, her voice trembling but lethal.

"Your choice, Elliot. Let your mother suffocate right here, or come back to Seattle and be my husband again."

Shaking with rage, I dropped the knife. I signed the remarriage papers. Returning to that sprawling estate, I became the perfect, docile trophy husband.

When her adoptive brother, Austin, felt anxious and needed Helenas undivided attention, I packed a bag and checked into a cheap motel without a word. I didn't even call her when my stomach ulcer perforated, leaving me to undergo emergency surgery alone.

When Zoe complained about my cooking and said she only wanted what "Uncle Austin" made, I drove to his apartment myself and invited him to move in with us.

Even tonight, on my birthday, Austin put on his usual performance. Sniffling into his wineglass, he said, "Im so jealous of you, Elliot. You have such a perfect wife and a beautiful daughter. I've never even received a real birthday present."

Without a second thought, I slipped the golden bracelet off my wrist and pressed it into his hand. The blood-red stones looked strikingly bright against his pale skin.

Helenas eyes flared crimson. She grabbed my arm, her jaw tight, whispering through clenched teeth, "Elliot, thats the bracelet I went on a grueling pilgrimage to Tibet to get for you. I walked that mountain on my knees! It was our promise!"

The dining room fell into a suffocating silence. Austin immediately made a show of trying to slide the bracelet off.

"Im so sorry, Helena," he stammered. "I didn't know it was your promise token. I'll give it right back to Elliot."

Zoes face hardened. She pointed a tiny, accusatory finger at me. "Dad knew exactly how important it was! He did it on purpose to make Uncle Austin feel bad. You're a bully!"

Helena stared at me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. "Elliot, when does this end? I brought you back because I wanted to build a real life with you again."

The sheer absurdity of it tasted like ash in my mouth. In the past, if I hesitated for a second to give Austin what he wanted, I was punished. Now that I was perfectly obedient, she was still angry.

I turned and picked up the platinum designer ring Helena had just gifted me for my birthday. I held it out to Austin. "Is the bracelet not enough? Here. Take this, too."

Helena's face went white, then a furious purple. With a violent sweep of her arm, she sent my birthday cake flying. It crashed onto the hardwood floor, frosting splattering my pants, porcelain shards scattering everywhere.

"Elliot! Do you have to be so incredibly petty? Do you have to twist every single thing into a knife?"

"I'm not," I said quietly.

Helena closed her eyes, taking a long, shaky breath to master her temper. "I know youre still punishing me for letting Austin take the ambulance first that night. But he was hemorrhaging, Elliot. He was literally dying. These past few years, Ive done nothing but search for a compatible heart donor for you so wed never have to live through that nightmare again. Please, sweetheart. Stop hurting me. Just let us be a family."

I gave her a small, empty nod.

Zoe jumped up from her chair, her tiny chest heaving. "Mom is literally apologizing to you, and youre still acting like an iceberg! No wonder nobody in this house likes you except Grandma!"

The words hit me like a physical blow, needle-sharp and precise.

I let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Good. Because except for my mother, I don't care about a single person in this room."

Helena froze. Her gaze turned to solid ice. "Fine. If that's how it is... if you don't care about anyone or anything, then you don't need this life. Starting tonight, Austin and I are taking the master bedroom. You can sleep in the basement maid's quarters."

I didn't argue. I simply turned and walked up the stairs.

Behind me, Zoe clapped her hands, squealing with delight. "Yay! Now I get to sleep with Mom and Uncle Austin every night!"

In our room, I began to pack. I opened the walk-in closet, staring at the cashmere coats, silk pajamas, and limited-edition sneakersthe luxuries I could never afford when we were young and poor, which Helena had bought to make up for the lost years.

The custom diffuser on the vanity was a scent she had blended herself. Even the heavy drapes had been changed to the deep forest green I loved. For the two years since she dragged me back, she had tried to play the role of the devoted girl who loved only me.

But the man I used to be was dead. I could no longer be swayed by expensive guilt-offerings.

I only packed the worn, cheap clothes I had been wearing when her security team dragged me back here.

Just as I zipped the suitcase, Helena walked in. She grabbed my wrist with a firm, bruising grip and slid the golden bracelet back onto my arm. "Keep it," she commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument. "And don't you ever dare give away my gifts again."

I blinked in mild surprise. She had actually taken it back from Austin.

Helenas eyes fell to my meager suitcase. Her brow furrowed deeply. "That's all you're taking?"

"The rest isn't mine," I said, my voice flat. "No point in carrying dead weight."

The cold indifference in my voice pushed her over the edge. A dark, ugly rage flared in her eyes. "If you despise it all so much, then it has no place in this house. Housekeeping!" she barked out the door. "Take everything I bought for him and burn it in the incinerator out back. From now on, if he wants so much as a clean towel, he has to ask Austin's permission."

My expression didn't flicker. I picked up my suitcase and walked out.

As I reached the top of the stairs, a pair of small, violent hands slammed into my lower back. I lost my footing, tumbling down the hardwood steps. I crashed onto the landing, my knees scraped raw and burning.

Zoe stood at the top of the landing, glaring down at me with pure venom. "You're not good! You're just a big liar, trying to ruin things for Mom and Uncle Austin! If you ever pick on Uncle Austin again, I'll never call you Dad again!"

Her eyes caught the corner of the crimson embroidered pouch sticking out of my coat pocket. Before I could move, she lunged down and ripped it from my hand.

"Give that back!" I gasped, dragging my bruised body up. It was a sacred protection amulet. I had spent three days kneeling on the cold stone floor of a remote monastery, praying for my mother's failing health to get it.

Zoe smirked, dangling it just out of my reach. "Every time you're mean to Uncle Austin, I'm going to destroy one of your things. That'll teach you!" With a swift, cruel twist of her small hands, she tore the velvet pouch open, ripping the handwritten prayer parchment inside to pieces. As the fragments drifted down onto my bruised knees like ash, the last shred of my restraint finally snapped.

I whipped my hand across her cheek. The slap echoed through the hallway.

"The single greatest regret of my life," I whispered, my voice deadly quiet, "is that I let them cut out my healthy heart to put it inside of you. If you love Austin so much, go ahead. Call him Dad. He's exactly what you deserve."

Zoe stumbled back, clutching her reddening cheek, her eyes wide with shock.

I didn't give her another look. Limping through the pain, I dragged my suitcase into the tiny, windowless room off the kitchen.

I was dabbing rubbing alcohol onto my bleeding knees when the door was kicked open. Helena stormed in, furious. "Elliot, how dare you lay a hand on a child" She froze. Her voice died in her throat as her eyes swept over my bruised shoulders, the angry red welts, and my bloodied knees. "How... how did you get these?"

She knelt down, her fingers suddenly trembling as she took the gauze from my hand, gently dabbing at the cuts. For a fleeting second, I saw a shadow of the woman who used to love me. A dull ache bloomed in my throat.

"Elliot," she murmured, her voice soft with a dangerous tenderness.

She leaned in, her eyes shining as she reached up to kiss me. Instinct took over. I jerked my head back, turning my face away.

Helena stiffened. Her fingers clamped onto my jaw, forcing my face back toward hers. She kissed me with a desperate, punishing intensity, biting my lip until the taste of copper filled my mouth. I went entirely rigid, letting her do as she pleased while my mind splintered into a thousand jagged memories. But when her warm palm slid beneath my shirt, a wave of intense nausea hit me. I shoved her away with everything I had, leaning over the edge of the cot, dry-heaving violently.

"Elliot!" Helenas face twisted in humiliation. "Am I really that repulsive to you?"

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor. "I'm not well. If you're lonely, Austin is just upstairs."

A look of raw agony crossed her face, her voice cracking. "You're still pushing me away? Elliot, I have told you a thousand timesI didn't touch another soul while you were gone. I take care of Austin because your father begged me to on his deathbed. That's it!"

I looked at her, my expression perfectly serene. "I believe you. You two are completely innocent."

The absolute lack of care in my voice was worse than anger. The veins in her temples throbbed. With a guttural scream, she kicked the metal trash can across the room and slammed the door behind her.

Not ten minutes later, my phone vibrated. A FaceTime request from Helena. I stared at the screen for a moment before tapping accept.

Austin's heavy, ragged breathing filled the small room. On the screen, Helena was holding Austin by the waist, pressing him against our large, framed wedding portrait on the wall, kissing him wildly. Austins palm was smeared directly over my face in the photograph, leaving a damp smudge on the glass.

He looked right into the camera, a smirk playing on his wet lips. "Helena, gentler... Elliot is watching."

Helena turned the lens toward the unmade bed, her voice dripping with a bitter, retaliatory frost. "Since you refuse to believe me, Elliot, let's make your little fantasy a reality. Watch us. Watch how happy we are together. And don't you dare hang up until we're done."

For the rest of the night, she dragged him to every corner of that room, leaving a sickening trail of exhibitionism. The screen flashed with sweat and skin, accompanied by sounds that made my stomach turn. I felt nothing but a profound, exhausting disgust.

It wasn't until the first pale gray light of dawn filtered through my basement window that she finally ended the call, unsatisfied by my lack of reaction.

My artificial heart, weak and poorly maintained, began to flutter and seize. A tight, squeezing pain bloomed in my chest. Shaking, I dragged myself out of bed to search for my medication.

I had just managed to shake a couple of pills into my palm when Zoe burst into the room. She lunged forward, knocking the bottle from my hand. The pills scattered across the dusty floor. "Who said you could take medicine?" she shrieked. "Mom said you can't touch anything without Uncle Austin's permission!"

She glared at me with an ugly, learned malice. The pain in my chest was tightening like a vise. I couldn't breathe, let alone argue. I dropped to my knees, desperately reaching for the small white pills.

But before my fingers could reach them, Zoe's sneakers came down hard, grinding the tablets into powder and dirt. "Thief! Freak! Get out of my house!" she screamed, her voice shrill.

A high-pitched ringing filled my ears. The fragile mechanical pump in my chest strained against the sudden spikes of adrenaline. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor. As darkness threatened to pull me under, the floodgates of memory burst open.

Zoe had been a sickly child. When she was diagnosed with terminal heart failure, her name was placed at the bottom of the transplant list, with months she didn't have. Desperate, I secretly ran the compatibility tests. I matched. Without a single regret, I gave her my healthy heart, replacing mine with a cheap, temperamental mechanical pump.

I spent three weeks hovering on the edge of death in the ICU. But on the day Zoe was finally discharged, she didn't come to my room. She ran straight into Austin's arms in the hallway. I dragged my IV pole to the door and heard her sweet, childish voice:

"Uncle Austin, when are you going to be my real dad? My old dad is so annoying. He nags Mom when she smokes, and he yells at me for watching TV. You're way better. You buy me burgers and take me to the park. Mom and I like being with you best."

I stood in the doorway, every word carving itself into my mind. The raw, fresh surgical incision across my chest burned like liquid fire.

I stepped forward, choking back my tears. "Zoe... I nearly died on that table so you could live. Is this how you talk about me?"

Austin had immediately pulled her behind his back. "Elliot, shes just a child. She doesn't know what she's saying. Theres no need to yell at her and make a scene."

With Austin protecting her, Zoes courage swelled. She peered out from behind him and spat at me. "I hate you! You're always so cold and miserable! Why didn't you just die during the surgery anyway? Mom is going to have Uncle Austin's baby soon, and I'll have a little brother. We don't even need you!"

The words struck me like a physical blow. The room spun. The air in my lungs turned to ash, and the world went completely black as I fell.

When I opened my eyes again, Helena was sitting by my bedside. She watched me in silence for a long time before she spoke, her voice flat and detached. "Since you already heard, I won't lie to you. Austin and I slept together. It was the night of your father's funeral. I told you I passed out from drinking and missed your calls, but the truth is... Austin was clinging to me, and I couldn't get away."

A high-pitched hum filled my head. I remembered that day. Austin had fainted in tears at the funeral parlor. I had been worried about him, so I begged Helena to take him home first. But before the service even ended, my father's greedy relatives descended on us like vultures, trying to seize our family home. My mother and I were beaten and bloodied trying to hold the door against them. I had called Helena fifty times. She never picked up. While my mother and I were bleeding on the floor, clinging to the only things we owned, Helena was wrapped in Austin's arms, lost in his bed.

The betrayal tore through my chest. Humiliation and blinding fury surged in my blood. I lunged at her, striking her across the face again and again. She didn't flinch. She just sat there, eyes downcast, letting me release my agony on her.

But the moment I grabbed my coat to go find Austin, Helena seized my wrist, her guilt instantly warping into defensive rage. "Elliot, stop! You grew up loved by your parents, protected by me. You've always had everything! But Austin has had nothing his whole life. He was an orphan, completely dependent on others. Can't you just let him have this one thing?"

The absolute, bone-deep partiality in her eyes drained the last drop of hope from my soul.

"Let's get a divorce, Helena," I whispered.

"No!" She threw her arms around me, her anger vanishing, replaced by desperate pleading. "No, please, Elliot! I'm sorry, I was out of my mind. Austin is just a little brother to me. He was just terrified that after your dad died, we'd throw him out. He slipped something into my drink... I swear it was only that one time! It will never happen again. Think of Zoe, Elliot. She just got her heart. Do you really want to tear her family apart now?"

I hesitated. Despite her cruelty, Zoe was still my child.

"One last chance," I said, my voice hollow. "But Austin leaves this house. You abort the pregnancy. You cut him out of our lives completely."

Helena hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded fiercely. "Okay. I promise."

She deleted his contact info right in front of me. She started coming home straight after work, attentive and gentle. Even Zoe became sweet and obedient again. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to believe we were healing.

Until Zoe's eighth birthday. I left the office early, intending to surprise her with tickets to the theme park. But as I reached the playroom door, I heard their voices.

"Mommy, when can we see Uncle Austin? I miss him so much."

Helenas voice was a soft, conspiratorial whisper. "Shh, sweetie. When your dad gets home, we'll slip a little sleeping pill into his tea. Once he's out, we'll go see Austin."

I stood in the hall, the blood freezing in my veins.

That night, I drank the glass of milk Helena offered me. I feigned sleep, listening to them creep out of the house. I followed them through the dark streets to a luxury high-rise downtown. Through the cracked door of the penthouse, I saw Austin lounging on a velvet sofa. Helena was sitting beside him, feeding him grapes and gently massaging his legs. "I'm so sorry I couldn't be here with you lately, sweetheart," she murmured.

Zoe snuggled up to him, pouting. "It's all because of Dad. He's so petty, he won't let Mom bring you home."

I threw the door open, my hands shaking so hard I could barely stand. "Helena... has a single word out of your mouth ever been true?"

Helena instantly jumped up, shielding Austin behind her. "Elliot, thats enough! Austin has never tried to take anything from you. Hes hiding out here in secret, with no name, no recognition, and youre still trying to ruin his life? Can't you stop being so incredibly selfish?"

Austin smirked from the couch. "Come on, Elliot. You're getting old and boring. Helena was sick of you years ago. Instead of letting some stranger have her, why not keep it in the family?"

The last of my sanity broke. I grabbed a heavy crystal vase from the entryway and hurled it at his face. A chaotic, screaming fight erupted. In the violent scuffle near the glass railing of the balcony, Austin and I went over the edge together, plunging into the dark.

We survived the fall, but barely. When the ambulance arrived, the paramedics frantically triaged our broken bodies on the wet pavement. "They're both critical," one of them called out to Helena. "We only have one trauma bay prepped. Who do we take first?"

Helena didn't even glance at my blood-soaked face. "Save Austin," she said instantly.

I lay there on the freezing asphalt, watching the red tail lights of the ambulance fade into the night. The last dying ember of my love for her went cold. With a trembling hand, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I had kept hidden for years. "If I survive this night," I whispered into the receiver, "help me disappear. Make them think I'm dead."

"Elliot! Elliot!" Helenas frantic voice dragged me back from the edge of consciousness. She lifted my head, forcing a nitro pill under my tongue. As the medicine slowly dissolved, the crushing weight in my chest began to lift. I opened my eyes to see Zoe standing nearby, her chin tucked stubbornly, showing no remorse.

Helena spun around and slapped Zoe across the face. "You stupid girl! Who told you to throw away your father's medication?"

Zoe burst into loud, theatrical wails. Austin immediately pulled her into his arms, glaring at Helena. "Helena, don't scream at the poor girl. She's just a child. She doesn't understand these adult games."

With a sigh, Austin pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. "I didn't want to bring this up, but Elliot is really taking this act too far." He handed it to Helena. "Look at this medical report. He had a successful heart transplant years ago. Hes not fragile at all. It's all a show."

Helena scanned the forged document, her expression turning from panic to a frigid, accusing coldness. "You've been fully recovered this whole time? You've just been playing the fragile martyr to make me feel guilty?"

I didn't have the breath or the will to defend myself. I just stared at her with vacant eyes.

Helena crumpled the paper and threw it in my face. "I actually wanted to make things right today. I wanted to celebrate your birthday. But since you'd rather play these sick mind games, fine. We're leaving." She grabbed Austin's arm, ushered Zoe out, and slammed the basement door, locking it from the outside.

I felt nothing. I didn't want to celebrate with them anyway. An hour later, Zoe posted a photo on her Instagram. It was the three of themHelena, Austin, and Zoe standing in the center, smiling brightly. The caption read: The perfect family. I double-tapped and liked the photo.

Then, my phone began to vibrate violently. It was the hospital.

"Mr. Pierce, your mother has gone into cardiac arrest. You need to get here immediately."

My chest seized with terror. I scrambled to the door and rattled the brass knob. Locked. I frantically dialed Helenas number. Once. Twice. Three times. It went straight to voicemail.

In absolute desperation, I ran to the small basement window, kicked the glass pane open, and hauled myself through. I dropped onto the concrete driveway. A sickening crack echoed as my right ankle buckled. Screaming through the white-hot agony, I dragged myself to the curb and flagged down a taxi. But I was already too late.

The ICU room was silent when I arrived, save for the flatline hum of the monitor. The doctor looked at me with weary sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Pierce. She suffered a severe emotional shock. Her heart simply couldn't take it."

I collapsed onto the linoleum floor, the world dissolving into a cold gray fog. Later, as I was gathering her few personal items, my hand brushed against something beneath her pillow. A small digital voice recorder. I pressed play, and Austins smooth, venomous voice filled the quiet room.

"You know, Martha, I almost feel bad for you. Let me tell you a little family secret. I was never some random orphan my dad adopted. I'm his biological son. His favorite."

"You and my mother fought for his attention your entire lives. And in the end, you spent decades raising me, her son. Isn't that hilarious?"

"Oh, and that family estate you and Elliot bled to protect? Dad signed the deed over to me the day I turned eighteen. Thanks for keeping it clean for me."

"In this life, you couldn't beat my mother, and your pathetic excuse of a son can't beat me. His wife, his daughter, his inheritance... they're all mine now. You two really are my lucky charms."

My mother had been semi-conscious, recovering from her stroke. She could hear every single word. He had literally tortured her to death. A blinding, murderous rage consumed me. I bolted from the hospital, ignoring the agony in my ankle, and drove straight to the theme park. Through the crowds, I spotted them on the manicured lawn, laughing and sharing ice cream. I reached into my pocket, gripping the pocketknife I kept in my car, and lunged at Austin, wanting nothing more than to drag him to hell with me.

But before I could reach him, Helena caught my wrist, twisting it back. "Elliot! What is wrong with you? Have you completely lost your mind?"

A crowd immediately gathered, muttering and pointing. Zoe jumped in front of Austin, screaming at the top of her lungs, "My dad is crazy! Hes off his meds and trying to hurt Uncle Austin! Get away from us, you psycho! Go away!"

She grabbed a jagged stone from the garden bed and hurled it at my face. The onlookers, seeing a child defend herself, began to join in, throwing trash and shouting insults. "He's acting!" someone yelled. "Get him out of here before he hurts someone!"

The hatred and disgust of the crowd washed over me like a suffocating tide. I looked past the stones, past the shouting faces, and locked eyes with Helena, who was holding Austin close.

I let out a jagged, hollow laugh. "Helena," I whispered, my voice carrying over the din. "If there is a next life... I pray I never lay eyes on you."

With a swift, desperate motion, I plunged the blade deep into my chest, right where the artificial heart pulsed its final, agonizing beat.