My Wife Went Insane After I Died

Audrey tossed the deep blue folder onto the kitchen island. The sound was soft, but in the dead silence of the apartment, it was loud enough to hear.

I didn't look up, keeping my gaze fixed on the black coffee in my hands. The surface was as calm as a mirror, reflecting my pale, distorted image.

"Sign it, Evan."

I heard the scrape of a chair. She sat across from me, her expensive designer dress outlining her sharp features, her expression cold.

It was her usual negotiation stance, used to deal with those stubborn Wall Street shareholders, or now, to confront her husband.

"For Colin, and for yourself. We don't need to make this messy."

I took a sip of coffee, the bitterness spreading on my tongue. "Messy? Are you talking about your tangled relationship with my brother, or about pulling the funding from my AI lab?"

Audrey frowned, smoothing her silk sleeves, her tone turning frustrated and resigned.

"Don't conflate the two. If you weren't jealous of your brother, I wouldn't have to tie the investment to your kidney donation. Besides, your lab team isn't top-tier. They've already received plenty of funding; there's no need to waste more."

I set my cup down. "So, you're saying that as long as I sign the divorce papers and agree to give my kidney to Colin, my team will be safe?"

"As long as you cooperate," she leaned in, her gaze softening, that nauseating fake affection surfacing again, "everything stays the same. Your lab, your projects, even your rightful shares. I'm not trying to ruin you, Evan. I just want you to atone."

"Atone."

I chewed on that word. How amusing.

She, along with my dear father and mother, believed I was born with sin, that my existence was proof of wrongdoing against Colin.

In the past, I struggled to understand why, hoping they would give me an explanation.

But now I got it.

No explanation needed.

It was simply because I wasn't Colin.

I reached for the blue folder.

Less than five inches from her hand was another document—my medical records. The red "URGENT" stamp on the cover was practically beside her sleeve. If she had just tilted her head a little or cared enough to notice why I'd lost so much weight recently, she would have seen it.

But she didn't.

Her eyes were fixed on the divorce agreement.

"Colin's situation is dire," she continued to press, clearly interpreting my silence as resistance. "He couldn't sleep last night. The doctor said we can't wait any longer. You're the only match. I know you hate him for stealing our parents' attention, but this is a life at stake. You can't be selfish."

"I'll sign." I interrupted her.

Audrey froze. She had prepared a whole speech about morality, responsibility, and the exchange of capital interests, even bracing herself for my potential meltdown.

"What?"

"I said, I'll sign." I flipped open the document and unscrewed the pen cap.

She stared at me.

Watching as I quickly scrawled my name on the paper, without hesitation, argument, or even reading those harsh terms.

This unusual compliance seemed to unsettle her a bit, but her concern for Colin quickly overshadowed those details.

She said coldly, "The new quarter's funding will be in immediately."

I pulled back my hand, avoiding her touch. The things I once longed for felt meaningless now.

"You're right; this is better for everyone."

Audrey sighed in relief, her momentary unease washed away by the joy of achieving her goal.

She tucked the document away, a victorious and smug smile spreading across her face.

"You made the right choice. Once you cool down, you'll thank me. And..." she paused, seemingly showcasing her mercy, "after the divorce, we'll still be family. I'll use the Sterling family trust to take care of you."

I looked at her. This woman stood before the countdown of my life, talking about a future that didn't exist.

"Hey," I pointed to the forgotten medical file on the table, "aren't you going to take a look?"

Audrey glanced at it, casually pushing it aside to make room for the divorce agreement.

"Your test results? Just send them directly to the transplant center's doctor. Don't think you can delay things by bribing a few doctors to write fake reports. As long as the kidney source is still in your body, I don't care about the other details."

As long as the kidney source is in.

I lowered my gaze, hiding the despair and irony in my eyes. "Fine. As long as the kidney source is in."

"Then I'll head out. I'm going to the hospital to be with Colin." She stood up, grabbing her car keys. "You should get over there soon; Mom and Dad are waiting for you to sign the consent form."

The door shut behind her.

I picked up the overlooked medical file and tossed it into the trash.

...

At the old Cross family home, the heat was cranked up, making the atmosphere feel festive.

In the study were only my father, mother, and my brother Colin, who was lounging in a recliner.

When I walked in, my mother immediately slid a thick document across the table toward me.

"Audrey said you agreed?"

There was no inquiry in her voice, only urgency. She didn't even ask if I'd eaten or if it was cold outside.

"Yeah." I pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Great!" Colin poked his head out from under a cashmere blanket, his eyes red. I'd seen this fake innocent look for over twenty years. "Bro, I knew you wouldn't just ignore me. I'll remember your kindness for life. Once I'm better, I'll give Audrey back to you; I know you've always loved her..."

My father cleared his throat, opened a drawer, and pulled out a check, sliding it across the table to me.

"This is two million." He said, his tone like he was discussing the final payment of a business deal. "Consider it your compensation. After the surgery, you can take a vacation in Europe, buy some equipment you like. We don't want people saying the Cross family mistreated a donor."

I stared at the number. Two million. Buying half my life, or rather, buying the last shred of my dignity.

In their eyes, I probably wasn't worth any more than that.

"What about the surgery consent form?" I asked, not touching the check.

"Here." My mother handed me another document, her finger pressing on the signature line. "The doctor said it must be 'completely voluntary.' If anyone asks later, you know what to say, right?"

"I know. I'm donating voluntarily, with no coercion and no financial transaction." I recited the lines of the script they had already written.

"Exactly." My mother nodded in satisfaction. "Also, you'll be staying at home this week. We need to monitor your diet. The doctor said the donor's health directly impacts the transplant's success. We don't want to spend a fortune only to end up with a subpar result."

Subpar.

I tightened my grip on the pen.

"Mom's just looking out for you," Colin chimed in. "You've been looking pale lately. Are you burning the midnight oil on that AI research of yours again? You should take it easy; Audrey will take care of you... oh right, you two are divorced now."

His eyes were full of amusement.

It was the smirk of a victor.

I signed my name. The last stroke was heavy, nearly tearing through the paper.

"Take the check." My father tapped the table. "It's the rule."

"No thanks." I stood up.

"Take it!" My father frowned, his tone commanding. "I don't like owing favors. Especially to you. Take the money; this is a transaction. Don't bring this up later, and don't think you can use this kidney to blackmail Colin!"

I looked at my father, then at my watchful mother and triumphant brother.

In their eyes, I wasn't even a sacrifice for my brother; I was just a fair and square transaction.

They were afraid of me living, afraid I'd cause trouble, so they wanted to preemptively resolve any potential issues.

But I wouldn't be living.

"I don't want the money." I looked at them, my voice soft yet clear. "Because this isn't for sale to you."

"What do you mean?" My father stood up, his face darkening.

"It means I'll give you what you want, as long as you don't regret it later."