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Five years ago, I gave everything – my dreams, my health, every last penny – to save the man I loved from a fatal heart condition. I scrubbed pots on double shifts, my hands raw, convinced I was putting my love on the path to recovery. But his fiancée, Jennifer, had other plans. She showed him doctored photos, whispered lies, and made it seem like I was selling my body, not my soul, for him. He believed her instantly, threw the money back in my face, and walked away, spitting that I deserved to rot. Now, five years later, those words are a cold prophecy: my kidneys are failing, I have six months to live. As I stumbled out of the free clinic, dizzy and broken, I saw him again-Ethan Scott, now a superstar music producer, stepping out of a luxury car with Jennifer, her hand protectively over a pregnant belly. They were heading into the exclusive private hospital next door, a world away from my despair. My body chose that moment to betray me; I collapsed, scattering my pills and medical records on the dirty sidewalk. He stared down at me, his eyes colder than any winter, then watched as Jennifer ground her heel into my hand and had my lifeline swept into a trash can. He even threw a crumpled twenty-dollar bill at my feet, declaring I was worth less than a donation to an animal shelter. How could he believe such monstrous lies? How could he, the man I sacrificed everything for, be so utterly blind to the truth of what I endured for him? What secret did Jennifer hold over him that made him choose her cruel deception over the life-saving act I committed?