After saying goodbye to her dying husband, Anna left the hospital, not even noticing the tears streaming down her cheeks. She walked slowly, as if her legs no longer obeyed her, until she finally stopped by the wall of the building to catch her breath.
Just six months earlier, Mark had been a strong, confident man. He laughed, made plans, and promised they still had a long life ahead together. Anna believed him without hesitation. He had always been there, protecting her and always knowing exactly what to say.
And now he lay in the intensive care unit. A white room, cold light, tubes, wires, machines breathing in his place.
“Everything will be fine,” Mark whispered as she squeezed his hand. “We’ll make it.”
Anna nodded, even though she knew it wasn’t true. The doctors had been clear. The illness was progressing too quickly. No donor had been found. There was barely any time left.
She stepped outside. Early winter had arrived. People hurried along their paths. The world kept moving—as if nothing had happened.
Anna sat down on a bench in front of the hospital building and buried her face in her hands. The tears flowed freely. She didn’t even try to stop them.
After a few minutes, it became a little easier.
She took a deep breath and was just about to stand up when she heard voices behind the wall.
TWO NURSES WERE STANDING AT THE CORNER OF THE BUILDING, UNAWARE OF HER PRESENCE. THEY SPOKE QUIETLY, BUT EVERY WORD WAS PERFECTLY CLEAR.
When Anna realized what they were talking about, sheer horror overcame her. Continuation in the first comment
“His wife isn’t a suitable donor anyway,” one said tiredly.
“Yes, her results are poor. It’s really a pity… And he basically has no other options.”
Anna flinched. Her heart began to race.
“Don’t you know?” the second continued in a lowered voice. “His mistress was here yesterday. She got tested.”
“Seriously?”
“Absolutely. She’s a perfect match in every way. And her kidneys are completely healthy.”
ANNA COULD HARDLY BREATHE. A LOUD RINGING FILLED HER EARS.
“Then why isn’t the operation being done?” the first asked.
“The patient refused. He said he would rather die than let his wife find out about the mistress.”
For a moment, there was silence.
“And an anonymous donor?” one added uncertainly.
“Who knows… He’s stubborn. And the rest isn’t up to us.”
“Poor woman…”
The voices faded away, and Anna remained standing, unable to feel her legs. The world around her seemed to freeze. Only her heart pounded dully in her chest.
HE WASN’T DYING BECAUSE THERE WAS NO WAY OUT. THERE WAS ONE. HE HAD SIMPLY CHOSEN SILENCE.
Anna looked at the door of the intensive care unit and didn’t know what she felt more—the pain of her husband’s betrayal and lies, or the hope that he might still be saved.
