They once had nothing but dreams and each other.
Ella and Nathan had met in college — poor, hungry, but full of fire. They shared meals, dreams, and even winter coats. They built everything side by side: from a small flower shop to a chain of luxury boutiques that bore Ella’s name in golden cursive.
They were the couple everyone envied. Rich, glamorous, powerful — yet always holding hands like two teenagers. Until life decided to test them.
It started with fatigue. Then blackouts. The doctors confirmed the worst.
“Severe heart failure,” the specialist said gravely. “She needs a transplant. Soon.”
The once-lively Ella now moved like a gh.o.st. She wore silk robes in their mansion, but her skin was pale, her voice weak. Nathan stayed by her side every night. Or so she thought.
Until one morning, she woke up — and he was gone.
He left behind only a note:
“I’m sick of taking care of a weak, sick woman. You’ll only hold me back. I’m leaving to pursue my future.”
===
Nathan disappeared from her life without warning, and with him, the world she knew shattered.
“He left me when I was dying,” she whispered to herself, too tired to cry. “I gave him everything… and he left.”
But fate has not closed on her yet.
Miraculously, a heart was found. The surgery was successful. Ella lived.
But the woman who woke up after the transplant was not the same. The soft Ella had died in that hospital bed. The new Ella was fire and steel.
She poured her rage into her work, expanded her empire ruthlessly, and became wealthier than ever. The name “Ella Vierre” became synonymous with success — and ice.
“Men are distractions,” she told reporters. “I’ve learned that the hard way.”
But no amount of power or money could erase one face from her mind: Nathan.
===
And fate really knows how to tease people again…
It was a cold Tuesday evening when she stepped into a modest bistro — not her usual kind of place. The server was late, and she tapped her designer watch impatiently.
Then he appeared.
“Good evening,” he said softly. “Can I take your order?”
She froze.
It was him. Nathan.
But not the Nathan she remembered. His once-proud stance was now bent. His cheeks were hollow. His uniform, wrinkled and too big, made him look older, worn.
“Ella…” he murmured, stunned.
She rose slowly from her chair.
“So this is where you ended up?” she said bitterly. “You left me — to become this?”
Nathan gave a faint, tired smile. “I’m just trying to make it through the day.”
“You vanished while I was dying,” she hissed. “You abandoned me. Now look at you — nothing but a poor, pathetic man serving tables.”
He didn’t flinch.
“Do you have any spare change?” he said with a strange glint in his eyes. “Could really use it.”
She let out a sharp, cruel laugh. “Spare change? You’re disgusting.”
She scribbled something, tore a check from her book, and tossed it onto the table.
“There. Take it. But don’t you ever show your face to me again.”
===
That night, after his shift, Nathan limped into the city hospital. He clutched the check in one hand, breathing heavily.
The receptionist waved. “You’re back early, Nathan.”
He nodded and moved toward the elevator.
Upstairs, in a dim corridor, Dr. Lambert greeted him with concern.
“You okay? You look worse than usual.”
Nathan handed him the check.
“I can finally pay this month’s bills,” he said. “Saw someone today… my wife.”
The doctor’s face fell. “You told her?”
Nathan shook his head. “She’d never have accepted it otherwise. She never would’ve taken the heart if she knew.”
“You mean she still doesn’t know you were the donor?” Lambert whispered.
Nathan nodded, leaning against the wall.
“I had to disappear. If she knew I was giving her my heart… she would’ve refused. I chose a mechanical one instead. Keeps me alive, barely.”
Dr. Lambert sighed deeply. “You gave her life. And she hates you for it.”
At that moment, the door creaked open.
Ella stood there.
Her eyes were wide. Her lips trembled.
“You… gave me… your heart?” she whispered.
Nathan froze.
“You followed me?” he asked.
“I needed to know why you left,” she said. “And now I do.”
Her voice cracked, and she stumbled forward, burying her face in his chest — over the quiet, mechanical whirr of the artificial pump that kept him alive.
“You idiot,” she sobbed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you suffer alone?”
He smiled gently, placing a weak hand on her back.
“Because I loved you more than my own life.”
===
Ella took Nathan home. Their mansion had long felt empty — but now, it was warm again.
She adjusted her schedule, cutting meetings to make him soup. They watched old movies. They laughed again.
And one day, the phone rang.
“We’ve found a matching heart for Mr. Vierre,” the doctor said.
The surgery was long and uncertain — but Nathan pulled through.
Months later, they walked together through a sunlit park, holding hands. Not out of habit. But out of survival.
Ella looked up at him.
“You gave me your heart twice, Nathan. Now it’s my turn to take care of yours.”
