Chapter 3

"Chloe, come on, if others don't get it, you should! Hank and I have been in love for years. That silly piece of paper? Doesn't matter at all. Hank knows about my health, so he's always careful—gentle, and he makes sure we take proper precautions. Otherwise, given how often… well, let's just say we'd have had more than a few by now." Oh, so it's all because he "cares" about Irene. Is that why he always vents his frustration on her? Who knows if Hank comes to her first or only shows up after Irene leaves him hanging. Now that she thinks about it, Hank never once used protection with her—only told her to take pills afterwards. Comparing the two… she really meant nothing to Hank, did she? "By the way, Chloe, you know what? Gotta thank you for your heart. It's beating just fine in here now. Wanna feel it?" Irene smiled as she stepped closer, grabbed Chloe's hand without warning and pressed it against her chest. The rhythm beneath her palm was solid and steady—completely unlike the mess inside her own chest that kept jabbing with sharp pain or skipping a beat altogether. That was her heart once. Every single beat was hers. And now? It's inside the last person she ever wanted to have it. Feeling that firm thump, Chloe's fingers twitched. Her breath caught. Her chest tightened painfully. "What the hell are you doing?!" Hank's furious voice snapped her out of it. She blinked back to reality just in time to see Irene clutching her chest before collapsing to the floor. Her face went paler than before, sweat dotting her forehead. Chloe covered her mouth, laughing in disbelief. When did her half-sister get so damn good at acting? Look, Hank dropped all sense of dignity, kneeling right there on the ground, panicking. "Irene, are you okay? What happened? Don't move, I'm calling the doctor!" Hank hovered over her, holding her like handling something fragile, voice shaking with worry. Tears were literally coming out of Chloe's eyes now as she laughed. She wiped them away, ignoring the ache in her chest, crouched down, and poked Hank's arm. "Why so nervous? The busted heart's in me now, remember?" "Hank, I don't want this heart anymore! Let's give it back to Chloe! She really tried to rip it out earlier—I'm terrified. I don't want it, okay? I really don't!" Irene sobbed in full-blown panic, clutching her chest like she had just escaped death itself. Hank turned his head, eyes raging cold. He shoved Chloe's hand off so hard she toppled over on her heels and hit the ground, completely off balance. "If something happens to Irene, you'll wish you were dead. Believe it." Chloe lowered her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. "Hank, tell me, what part of my life right now doesn't already feel worse than death?" With that, she threw a report straight at him. Her last bit of hope. "You're pregnant?"