Elara
“Please, Ethan, don't.” I pleaded, my voice dripping with desperacy. Ethan stood, staring and smirking sinisterly at my weak, sedated self lying on the operating table. He was covered in scrubs and a nose mask, hung on one ear, revealing his face. And completely ignoring my pleas, he stabbed my neck with the syringe containing a contradicting drug to the earlier sedator, aiming for my death.
I didn't believe my life or that of my unborn child would end this way— dying by my husband's hand on the operating table hours before my surgery with the aid of my best friend, Samantha. I figured out my husband's infidelity in the most devastating way. He and my best friend had been together for years now, even before I gave him my kidney.
Yeah, you read that right, my kidney.
Ethan developed kidney failure with his kidneys and we couldn't find any donor within a short period. I volunteered when my mother-in-law suggested it to me and I did it with love, knowing fully well I wasn't ready to lose my husband but fate had other things in store for me. After I gave out my kidney for Ethan's well-being seven years ago, I began to develop serious complications.
It wasn't serious at first up until recently when I got pregnant. My body became weak with one kidney performing the work of two but it became severe when it started working for two people– me and my unborn child. When Ethan found out about my expectancy, he was genuinely happy– at least that was what I thought. But behind my back, he and my best friend were plotting on how to get rid of me.
I found out from all the late homecomings, the cheap feminine perfumes and the lipstick stains but I never imagined Samantha would be that woman and I always waited for Ethan to change not until the day of my operation. I was five months gone– in my second trimester and it was totally safe to undergo the surgery. At least it was essential for both my baby and I to survive.
That morning, just before I got wheeled into the operating room, Ethan left his phone on the drawer and went to ease himself in the restroom. His phone kept buzzing incessantly with messages. I curiously picked it up and unlocked it because I'd seen him type in his password sometimes when he thought I was fast asleep. I clicked on the chat and there was a video with a message underneath, ‘Like what you see?’ and another one appeared just as quickly, ‘Finally we’d have the rest of our lives to each other without any intrusion.’ I clicked on the video and Samantha’s face and naked body came into full view. I gasped as I quickly dropped the phone like it scalded me.
I trembled but quickly covered my mouth to keep my whimpers from escaping. I was so shocked that I didn't even dwell on the last message until I was wheeled into the operating room by the nurses. Then a nurse came in to send the others out claiming the doctor wanted them to give me some time to myself and immediately they left, she sedated me. And shortly after Ethan walked in with a scrub, all dressed and covered up. I could recognize Ethan even in my dreams, “What are you doing here?” My voice came out a little softer because of what had been injected into me. He pulled off one of the nose mask’s elastic ear straps and smiled while holding a syringe in one hand. “Now, just stay still. It's not going to hurt.” I blinked my eyes groggily, trying to fight back the wave of dizziness that was trying to overwhelm me. “What are you doing, Ethan?!” “Putting an end to your miserable life. No need to be scared, it won't hurt one bit,” Ethan put a gloved hand on my arm, even though I found it hard to move. Tears streamed down my eyes, “What about our child?” He snorted, “The child can go to hell with you. I want nothing to come between Samantha and I.” In that moment, I understood the last message Samantha said.
I couldn't understand how cruel one has to be even to his own child just to enforce his infidelity. Then he stabbed my neck with the syringe and as a final tear slid down my eyes. This was it– I closed my eyes, with my heart beating erratically in my chest. This is what it feels to die.
I s*ck*d in a deep breath as I woke up in my room, my hand flew to my heart and I quickly checked that it was beating. I was so sure that a few minutes ago, I was stabbed and I died and now… I looked around, I was in my matrimonial room. This was weird, very weird. A call came in and I searched the bed from where the sound came from and located my phone. This was the phone I used before I changed it three years ago. The call was from Samantha, “Be quick, come to Chrisland Hospital opposite your husband's workplace. He's currently here, he passed out.” I frowned, this happened seven years ago.
I removed the phone from my ear and checked the date– it was the 2nd of November, 2020. This was insane. “Did you hear me, Elara??” Samantha's voice rang out from my phone. “Yeah,” I replied, my voice calm before ending the call.
How did Samantha get to know that before me? The old me would've never even had the question in mind. T
hey'd always been the one biting at me leaving me helpless but now, God has given me a second chance at life and this time, I'd be the one doing the biting and I'd be sure to bite down extremely hard.