Hate You, Love You

Amelia's POV

For a decade, I devoted myself to loving Oliver Kensington, a man revered like a deity in high society. My reward? He demanded I take the fall for his adopted sister's crime.

When my sentence was cut short, I foolishly hoped it was because he still had feelings for me, or that he couldn't bear to see me imprisoned any longer.

The truth was far crueler—he needed me to donate my kidney to his precious sister.

What he failed to discover was my terminal cancer diagnosis.

So I made my choice: if I was dying, I would take him with me.

*****

I stood at the prison gates, the guards' overheard conversation still echoing in my mind.

"Such a shame. Young thing's got two types of cancer. They're only letting her out so she can give her kidney to Kensington's sister."

"Some life she's got. Being Mrs. Kensington isn't the fairy tale everyone thinks!"

The sun blazed overhead, but all I felt was this bone-deep chill.

Oliver expected me to donate a kidney to Courtney? With my late-stage cancer, my body could barely keep itself alive. A surgery like that would kill me...

"Please," I grabbed the guard's arm frantically, "I need to make a phone call!"

With trembling fingers, I dialed my relative from Grandma's side of the family.

The moment the line connected, I spoke quickly, my voice urgent. "Listen—I want out. Help me immigrate to Bastova. Whatever conditions you have, I'll meet them. I'll do anything!"

The person on the other end replied, "Got it. Wait at the border checkpoint in two days."

Right as I hung up, I heard a deep voice behind me. "Who were you calling?" It was low, smooth, and cold like the whisper of a devil.

I couldn't help but flinch at that. When I turned around, Oliver's tall frame was blocking the sunlight, casting me completely in shadow.

I lowered my head and muttered, "I was just asking why you weren't here yet."

Oliver stayed silent for a while. "You're so thin now," he said softly. "I'll have the chef make you something nourishing once we're home."

I just kept my head down and didn't say a word.

Once we got in the car, I noticed the passenger seat was piled with adorable stuffed toys—all limited edition. There was even a cute tag that read: [Courtney's Only.]

I had to suppress a bitter laugh. How ironic. All the affection that I, his lawful wife, had been denied was showered generously on Courtney, his precious foster sister.

Then, my mind drifted back to something I'd seen before I went to prison. I hadn't meant to walk in on him, but I did. Oliver was kneeling in front of an altar, his quiet gasps and muffled groans filling the air.

The flickering candlelight lit up his body and what was in front of him.

It was a sex doll.

He was thrusting into it like he couldn't get enough.

His face, partially obscured by shadows, gleamed with perspiration. The intensity in his expression was raw, passionate—a side of him I'd never witnessed before.

Oliver was never like that with me.

With me, it was all routine. No emotion, no tenderness, and barely even a word.

But with that doll, his eyes overflowed with longing and affection.

My hands started shaking. My chest tightened like something inside was being crushed. And then I heard him say, "Oh, Courtney, I love you..."

I bit down hard on my lip, so hard the taste of blood filled my mouth.

That was the third time I had caught him.

The first time, I fled the room in tears. The second time, I spent the night staring at the ceiling. By the third time, I felt nothing but numbness.

How bitterly ironic. It wasn't that he didn't have desires; it was just that I wasn't the woman he desired.

Lost in thought, I barely noticed when the car stopped in front of the villa. Memories flooded back—this was where Courtney had set me up time and time again.

We stepped out, and Oliver's hand came to rest on my head—that familiar gesture from before. "Be good this time," he said, his voice gentle. "No more conflicts with Courtney. I'll make things right, I promise."

I muttered, "I don't want anything from you." I looked up at him and asked, "Have you found out what really happened to my grandmother?"

Oliver avoided my gaze, sighing, "The investigation is still ongoing."

"It was Courtney. You just don't want to admit it, right?" I kept my voice steady. "She was the only one near my grandma when it happened. Who else could it be?"

"Amelia!" Oliver's eyes burned into me as his voice rose. "Your grandma was already dead by the time Courtney got there."

His tone caught me off guard, and I went quiet. After a beat, I looked him straight in the eyes and finally asked the question I'd buried for so long. "Oliver, is it me that you love, or is it Courtney?"

Oliver's face instantly turned cold, the kind of cold that made one's skin crawl. A dark, threatening look overtook him, and the next thing I knew, his fingers were wrapped around my neck. "Courtney is my sister! How dare you suggest something so vile?"

His grip around my neck grew tighter with each passing second. My lungs burned for air as darkness crept into my vision. Desperately, I clawed at Oliver's hands, trying to break free from his choking grasp.

Right before I lost consciousness, Oliver finally let go. I crumpled to the floor, my violent coughing nearly bringing up the contents of my stomach. Above me, he loomed like a statue, his face devoid of any emotion. "Don't ever say that again," he commanded, his voice ice-cold. Without another glance, he turned and strode toward the door.

The moment the electronic lock beeped open, Courtney rushed forward, flinging herself into his arms with the giddy enthusiasm of a lovesick girl.

She looked radiant—draped in designer clothes worth a small fortune, her complexion glowing with health. Nothing about her suggested someone desperately awaiting a kidney transplant.

Yet Oliver, blind to the truth, couldn't see that I, with my gaunt frame, was the one truly ill.

Rage surged through me as I clenched my fists, struggling to stand up. "Oliver, open your eyes! Courtney murdered my grandmother! She was there—she pushed her down those stairs! Why can't you see the truth?!

"First you made me go to prison for her, and now you want my kidney?!

"You heartless monster, Oliver! You're a beast! If you love your foster sister so much, why must you sacrifice my life for her?!

"I told you I'm sick! I have cancer, damn it! Why can't you understand that?!"

I screamed hysterically, my voice raw with anguish, but he merely frowned, his response chillingly detached. "How did you find out?"

"Guards!" he barked. "Lock her in the room. Don't let her out until the kidney transplant!"

As the doors began to close, I caught his merciless stare. "Remember," he said coldly, "this is what you owe Courtney!"