The day Garrett Valdez received the World Philanthropist Award, I was declared terminally ill by doctors because I couldn't afford to replace my artificial heart.

During the interview, the host asked Garrett to call the one person he regretted most.

He dialed my number without hesitation.

I answered the phone and heard Garrett ask me, "Do you regret leaving me for money back then?"

I looked at the enormous bill for replacing my artificial heart and laughed softly. "Garrett, you're so rich. Could you lend me 35,000 dollars?"

The phone hung up abruptly. I watched Garrett on television say coldly, "Now I have no regrets."

"What he didn't know was that when his heart failed years ago,

I secretly gave him mine."

After the broadcast ended, I immediately received a transfer of 35,000 dollars from Garrett.

I was stunned for a moment, feeling conflicted.

After using the money to pay my medical bills, I suddenly heard a familiar voice outside my ward.

I looked through the door crack and saw Garrett's figure.

Seven years had passed, yet time seemed to have left no trace on him.

The only thing that changed was the person by his side was no longer me.

The award ceremony had just ended. He hadn't even had time to change clothes before rushing to the hospital.

All because his little girlfriend had a slight stomachache. I watched him lovingly hold Celeste Brennan in his arms.

I lowered my head, trying to pretend I didn't see anything, and quietly closed the door.

Garrett suddenly yanked the door open.

I jumped, looking up to meet his eyes.

Garrett's gaze swept over my body with bone-chilling coldness.

"It's been a while. Aren't you going to say hello?"

I looked at him, slightly parting my lips. Thousands of words came to mind, but they all merged into, "Garrett, lend me another 50,000 dollars."

Garrett was stunned for a moment, and his cold gaze flared with anger.

He grabbed my hand.

"Seven years apart, and this is all you want to say to me?"

The dense needle marks on my wrist sent waves of sharp pain through me.

I took a deep breath and said softly, "Mr. Valdez is so wealthy. If I don't ask for money, I'm afraid Ms. Brennan might misunderstand."

Garrett looked somewhat bewildered, his eyes showing complexity.

He was about to say something when Celeste Brennan threw her arms around him.

"Honey, is this your ex-wife?"

Celeste looked at me and spoke in a pitying tone. "What can 50,000 dollars do? When Garrett buys me a pair of shoes, it costs 85,000 dollars!

"Too bad Ms. Evelyn doesn't know how to cherish things. If you hadn't heartlessly abandoned Garrett, how would I have met him?"

I remained silent, my thoughts drifting to the past. Garrett and I met in college, then fell in love and spent five years together.

Back then, he wasn't a billionaire entrepreneur yet.

My body wasn't as weak as it is now either.

Two poor students who were both orphans had found the person they cared about most for the first time.

We worked hard to have a little family of our own.

Just as our careers were taking off, Garrett was diagnosed with severe heart disease.

Treatment and transplant surgery required a huge sum of money. We spent all our startup savings.

To raise medical expenses, I worked several part-time jobs every day, ate only one meal a day, and pinched every penny.

I worked so hard, just to save a little money for medical treatment.

We even switched to the cheapest, inferior generic drugs.

But we still couldn't find a suitable heart.

As I grew desperate, watching Garrett grow thinner each day and waste away.

The doctor found me and told me there was a successful match.

The person whose heart matched Garrett's was me.

My wandering thoughts ended.

Garrett tenderly kissed Celeste's forehead, his eyes filled with endless gentleness.

"If it weren't for her heartlessness, how would I have met you, my little angel?

"That 50,000-dollar bag you liked, I'll buy it for you when we get back. Next time pick something more expensive—I can afford it."

Watching them, the needle pain in my wrist seemed to pierce straight into my heart, making it hard to breathe.

I pulled my hand free from Garrett's grip, unwilling to serve as a reference point for their love any longer.

As I was about to leave, Celeste casually stuck out her foot and tripped me.

"Oh my, Evelyn, how careless of you!"

I fell to my knees as my medical reports scattered around Garrett's feet.

Seeing me fall, Garrett's expression tightened, and he instinctively reached out to help me.

Celeste grabbed his hand and exclaimed, "What is this?"

Garrett's attention was drawn to the reports on the ground.

He picked them up and quickly scanned through them.

"Artificial heart replacement..."

A flash of anger crossed Garrett's face.

He threw the medical report at my face.

"Evelyn, I never thought you'd stoop so low—faking this kind of illness just for money!"

"You're still the same as you were seven years ago—everything's about money; it's all you ever see!"

I stood up and looked at Garrett Valdez's healthy body.

A faint smile curved my lips as I silently picked up the medical records.

"Since Mr. Valdez knows I love money, how about lending me some more?"

Celeste Brennan was so emotional she was crying, shaking the man's solid arm, but when she looked at me, her eyes were full of mockery and malice. "Darling, maybe it's true?

"Besides... back then, it was because Evelyn left you, which allowed you to receive a kind donor's heart!

"Should we help her?"

Her words seemed to remind Garrett that I had once abandoned him for money.

The anger and hesitation in Garrett's eyes were instantly frozen over by coldness.

"Those kind donors' hearts can't save someone heartless and ungrateful. She doesn't deserve it."

Garrett pulled Celeste away. Celeste was still pleading.

But when she glanced back at me, the curve of her lips was so mocking and vicious.

I picked up the medical records covered in Celeste's footprints.

The artificial heart suddenly sent out unfamiliar vibrations.

My pupils dilated, and their retreating figures gradually blurred.

After a long while, I wiped away the blood spilling from the corner of my mouth and looked at the words "Artificial Heart Replacement."

My fingers brushed over the scar etched on my chest for seven years.

Garrett still doesn't know to this day.

The heart beating in his chest is mine.

Seven years ago, because they couldn't find a suitable heart for so long.

Garrett's body grew weaker day by day.

Artificial heart technology wasn't mature—theoretically, it could maintain basic life functions.

But there were too many risks.

After we were matched successfully, I gave him my heart.

I replaced mine with an artificial heart that theoretically could last seven years. To save money, I chose the cheapest one available.

Since then, my chest would ache from time to time.

Coughing up blood daily and sudden weakness had become routine.

Also because I had no money, the surgery to replace it with a new artificial heart kept getting delayed.

Now, it's been seven years.

The artificial heart in my chest pulsed with its seventh wave of pain.

I knew it had already reached its limit.

***

After leaving the hospital, I returned to my rented house.

The house wasn't big. It was damp and humid, especially cold in winter.

In summer it was unbearably hot, but at least it was cheap.

Garrett and I used to stay here, where we shared our dreams for the future.

After learning my heart matched his.

I pretended to be materialistic and presented him with divorce papers.

Garrett and I had spent five years together.

No matter how hard or tiring, I never complained once, always staying by his side.

He knew too well how much I loved him and couldn't believe I would leave him.

I also knew he loved me to the core.

If he knew everything, he would never allow me to trade my life for his.

To save him, I could only steel myself and pretend I'd had enough.

Had enough of being by his side, suffering endlessly.

Had enough of being by his side, living this hopeless life. Had enough of taking cheap medicine every day, eating one meal a day, drinking cold water when thirsty, gnawing on plain bread when hungry, and stretching every dollar.

I told him I was done with everything.

I still remember that day—the boy who had always been strong, who never feared hardship or bleeding, shed tears for the first time, crying as he signed the divorce papers.

I also signed my name on the organ donation agreement.

After the surgery, I left Garrett completely with a tarnished reputation and returned to the rented house where we had spent five years together.

Quietly waiting for the death I had embraced with my own hands.

I just never thought I'd see Garrett again.

Now, he's gone further and further, living the dream we once dreamed of together.

But I can never go back.

Looking at him in the news, full of vigor and success.

A bitter ache suddenly welled up in my chest.

Yet I also felt somewhat comforted.

My phone's ringtone interrupted my memories.

I answered—it was the bank calling.

The bank told me the last transfer of 35,000 dollars was a mistake.

I needed to return the money immediately or face criminal charges.

After hanging up, I smiled bitterly, not knowing what to say. Garrett hates me so much, knowing that someone like me who only cares about money would need installment payments.

He'd definitely accept gladly, and watch me work myself to death paying off the debt.

Because of my heart condition, my body was often weak, and I couldn't do many jobs.

I could only survive on occasional odd jobs.

My best friend Natasha Quinn knew about my condition and found me a job as a banquet server.

The work was relatively easy, paying 85 dollars a day.

When I put on the server's uniform and mask to serve drinks at the banquet.

I saw Garrett again.

He wore an expensive suit, standing tall with an extraordinary presence.

Celeste was dressed in a luxurious evening gown, graceful and elegant.

The two linked arms, looking like a divine couple, surrounded by everyone's admiration and praise.

I only glanced once before immediately lowering my head.

Garrett, holding his wine, didn't recognize me. Just as I was about to turn away, Celeste suddenly snapped, "What kind of server are you? Can't you see you spilled wine on my dress?"

I paused, only then noticing a wet spot on Celeste's hem.

I stayed silent, kept my head down, and wiped the stain from Celeste's dress with a napkin.

Garrett looked at me, his brows slightly furrowed, lips pressed into a straight line.

The malice in Celeste's eyes spread, and she suddenly kicked me in the chest. A sharp pain hit me, and I fell to the ground, unable to stop myself from crying out in pain.

"Don't touch me with your dirty hands! Security, throw her out!"

Celeste's face showed anger, but the satisfaction at the corner of her mouth couldn't be suppressed.

Though I only showed my eyes.

In that instant of eye contact, Garrett still recognized me.

His lips moved slightly, and the flash of heartache in his eyes was quickly replaced by endless mockery.

He raised his hand to stop the security guards and pulled off my mask.

"Evelyn, why didn't you say hello to your ex-husband?"

Celeste pretended to recognize me belatedly and hurriedly pulled me up.

"Evelyn, is that you? You're Garrett's ex-wife—how can you be working as a server here?"

The hall seemed to suddenly hit the mute button, falling completely silent in an instant.

Everyone's gaze focused on me.

Then came the mockery voices from all around.

"I heard Mr. Valdez's ex-wife abandoned him for money when he was at his lowest..."

"Hah, karma really gets everyone."

"Abandoning Mr. Valdez and ending up as a server, she deserves it!"

Someone splashed red wine on my head.

Then wine came from all directions, glass after glass smashing against me and shattering.

Dark red wine mixed with bright red blood, pooling on the floor.

Clearly, these people trying to curry favor with Garrett wanted to vent his anger for him. Blood flowed down my forehead and across my cheeks.

Yet I felt no pain and remained silent.

Garrett looked at me, coldness evident in his eyes.

"Evelyn, why aren't you speaking? Is it because I have to pay for you to talk to me?"

Garrett sneered, and mocking laughter erupted around us.

"You came here as a server just to borrow money from me, didn't you? I'll give you what you want!"

He waved for someone to bring over a dozen bottles of expensive red wine and opened them one by one.

"As long as you drink all of these, I'll give you 50,000 dollars."

Now he threw the money on the ground, making the spilled wine and blood on the floor look even redder.

Garrett's face held an unbreakable coldness.

Everyone in the living room watched this drama unfold with mocking expressions.

Ever since I got the artificial heart replacement, my body had grown increasingly weak, unable to lift anything heavy.

I could no longer run or jump, and even walking a few extra steps left me gasping.

The alcohol that most people used to numb themselves could cause my artificial heart to fail if I had even a little.

I lifted my head, looked at the man, tugged at the corner of my mouth, and finally spoke, "Then I don't have to pay back that 35,000 dollars either, right?"

Garrett was suddenly stunned, anger rising in the bone-deep coldness of his eyes.

Then came the tense sound of grinding teeth from his mouth.

"Fine!"

Hearing his answer, I smiled, then grabbed a bottle and started pouring it down my throat. A burning sensation filled my mouth, and my body instinctively gagged, almost throwing up.

I forced myself to swallow the wine, bottle after bottle.

Everyone watched this joke with sarcasm.

Only Garrett's face gradually became dark and gloomy.

After downing another bottle, and seeing me reach for more wine, Garrett was unable to hold back anymore. He grabbed my hand.

"Evelyn, will you die without money?!"

Looking at his bloodshot eyes, I nodded.

"You're right, without money, I will die."

He pushed me away angrily.

"Fine, then drink it all, drink your fill!"

My body felt as heavy as if bound with boulders.

The artificial heart in my chest seemed to have stopped beating.

I smiled, took a light breath, and grabbed a bottle to pour into my mouth.

Garrett couldn't bear it anymore and yanked the wine from my hand, letting out a beast-like roar, "Enough!"

My body could no longer support itself and collapsed to the ground.

Fine glass shards pierced my body, staining the floor crimson.

Hearing the commotion, my best friend Natasha rushed over, frantically holding me in her arms, shouting at Garrett, "Evelyn gave you her heart! She's living with an artificial one now—she absolutely can't drink! She'll die—don't you know that?"