My Brother Became a Vegetable To Save Me Novel by NANCY ROWSE

: I Had Heart Failure, Yet He Snatched My Heart To His Beloved

“End–stage heart failure; without a transplant, survival beyond six months is unlikely,” the doctor’s cold words echoed in my ears.

Walking alone down the street, my gaze was hollow. Suddenly, I made a decision and picked up my phone, dialing a number I knew by heart.

“Beep… beep…”

Elio didn’t answer. Undeterred, I tried again, only to be met with the same cold, mechanical tone.

Disappointment filled me. I should have known he wouldn’t answer. I had no idea what Elio was busy with; he hadn’t been home for days and rarely answered calls.

I dragged my weary body back to our home, the one that belonged only to Elio and me. Upon entering, I noticed a scent that wasn’t ours. Looking up, I saw that the light was still on in the bedroom upstairs. Confused, I walked up and gently pushed open the door.

Elio was on the balcony, talking on the phone with someone. Though I could barely make out the voice, it was clear it was a woman’s. Her cheerful and refreshing tone seemed to ease the frown on Elio’s face, and if I listened closely, I could hear his affectionate laughter.

Watching this scene, my heart ached. Elio had never smiled at me like that; even a simple word of concern or a look of urgency had never graced his face.

Elio and I were high school classmates, and I kept my feelings well–hidden; no one knew I had secretly loved him. Neither my friends nor Elio himself were aware of my genuine affection.

We ended up together through an arranged marriage; his family pressured him to find a partner, and I happened to be his match. When Elio proposed marriage, I was initially in disbelief, but his next words completely shattered my heart.

“Ms. Keller, we are high school classmates and relatively familiar with each other. Since we are both being pushed into marriage, please don’t misunderstand. If you’re unwilling, you can refuse.”

hurriedly agreed to Elio’s proposal. Thus, we became a pretend couple, but little did he know, I was overjoyed on the day I became his wife. I wanted to take photos and post them on social media, but feared it would make my feelings too obvious.

Two years into our marriage, I had grown accustomed to being Elio’s wife, yet he seemed to dislike me calling him “honey” or any other endearing terms, insisting I use his full name instead.

At the door of our room hung Elio’s clothes. As soon as I opened the door, I was hit with the scent from his clothes–women’s perfume. I was in disbelief, stunned for so long that I didn’t react even when Elio stood in front of me.