The 88th Time They Chose Her
Joy Brown · Ongoing · 7.7k Words
Introduction
Seven days later, I lay on the cold hospital bed, listening to my fiancé and family laughing down the hall.
They were popping champagne to celebrate my adopted sister's discharge.
No one remembered I had just had surgery. No one remembered my nut allergy.
When someone handed me a plate of almonds, I smiled.
I shoved them into my mouth, handful after handful, and swallowed them down. Then I told them I was done fighting for their love.
My fiancé demanded I postpone our wedding. My brother beat me until I bled and locked me on the rooftop to die.
After being abandoned eighty-eight times, I finally learned how to love myself—by cutting everyone who failed me out of my life.
Chapter 1
Chloe's POV
I've been counting ceiling cracks from my hospital bed. Day seven.
Every breath tugs at my left side, where a kidney used to be.
The nurse hesitated during morning rounds. "Miss Steel, your family..."
I cut her off. "The medication's fine."
Familiar noise echoed from down the hall. Emily's bell-like laughter, Mom's exaggerated "You're amazing, sweetheart," and Dad's champagne cork popping.
I yanked out the IV line. Blood beaded at the needle site. Gripping the wall, I shuffled toward the noise, each step crushing what was left of my career. Professional tennis player Chloe Steel—who might never swing a racket again after surgery.
I pushed open the door just as confetti exploded.
Everyone froze.
My fiancé Allen sat beside Emily's bed, his fingers still tangled in her hair. The gesture was too intimate.
"Chloe?" Allen shot up first, rushing to steady me. "What are you doing out of bed? The doctor said you need rest. What if your incision reopens?"
I pulled my arm away.
"We were planning to visit later." My mom Tiana, set down a cake, her voice strained. She wouldn't even meet my eyes. "Emily's being discharged today. Just a small celebration. We didn't want to disturb you."
Dad finally glanced at me, but spoke only to Allen. "Take her back to her room. She'll catch cold. Too many people here, bad air quality."
"I'm fine," I said. My voice was flat as stagnant water.
Mom suddenly brightened, as if remembering something. She grabbed a nut bowl from the coffee table and offered it to me. "Hungry? You should eat something. Surgery takes a lot out of you."
Almonds, walnuts, cashews. Emily's favorites. The house was always stocked with them.
When I was little, I'd been rushed to the ER after accidentally eating almond cookies. "SEVERE NUT ALLERGY" was stamped in red letters on the first page of my medical chart. Emily had been hospitalized that same day for a sprained ankle. Mom and Dad had stayed in her room until a nurse finally called for "the other Miss Steel's family to sign consent forms."
"I don't eat nuts," I said.
"Chloe, stop it." My brother Kelvin dropped the balloon he'd been tying. "What's with the attitude? We didn't visit for your own good! You just donated a kidney and need rest. Would it help if we came barging in making noise? Can't you be a little understanding?"
I stared at that bowl of nuts.
So they did remember I'd just donated a kidney. They simply chose not to come. Seven days. Allen's last text still read "I'll visit tomorrow." Mom had promised "I made you soup." Dad had said "I'll pick you up when you're discharged." All empty words.
I grabbed a handful of almonds and shoved them in my mouth.
Chewed. Swallowed. My throat began to itch, like tiny needles crawling inside.
"Chloe, what are you doing?!" Allen tried to grab the bowl, but I dodged.
I took another handful of walnuts. Crammed them in. Chewed hard, like I was grinding something else to pieces.
After swallowing the last bite, I dusted off my hands. "Nut allergy. It's on the first page of my chart. But don't worry," I looked at Mom's widening eyes, "you never remember anyway."
Mom's face went white. "If you're allergic, why didn't you say something?! Nobody told you to eat them!"
Dad's brow furrowed into hard lines. "You did this on purpose, didn't you? Had to cause a scene today? Emily just recovered, couldn't you let her be happy for one day? You've been like this since childhood—always demanding attention."
The hollow space where my kidney used to be filled with something else. Something cold and hard, spreading through my veins to every limb.
"Before, whenever this happened," I heard myself say, my voice eerily calm, "I would cry, scream, ask why you only remembered what Emily liked."
Allen tried to touch my arm. I stepped back.
"At seventeen, when I went into shock for three hours in the ER," I continued, looking at Dad, "you stood outside discussing whether 'Emily's match tomorrow would be affected.'"
Mom opened her mouth but no sound came.
"But not anymore." I looked at each of them. "I won't compete with Emily ever again."
The room fell silent.
Even Emily forgot her practiced innocent expression, just staring at me.
Everyone stared at me, like I was a stranger.
Or like they were seeing me for the first time.
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