My fiancé proposed to me after dating for three years. Three beautiful years. He was everything I ever wanted, everything I dreamed of. So, we decided to throw a “celebratory” engagement dinner last weekend. It was meant to be perfect. His family was coming over to our place – his parents, his three brothers, and their wives. I cooked, I decorated, I fussed over every single detail. The fairy lights twinkled. The table was set with heirloom china I’d spent weeks polishing. The aroma of rosemary and garlic filled the air. My heart was so full, it felt like it would burst. Everyone arrived, smiles plastered on their faces, champagne corks popping. There were toasts, laughter, stories of his childhood. It was everything I had envisioned for our future.
But one detail kept nagging at me. His mother. She sat there, stiff. Her smile never quite reached her eyes. She picked at her food, barely spoke a word, just watched me, a strange intensity in her gaze. Was it me? Was I imagining it? I tried to brush it off, attributing it to nerves or perhaps just her reserved nature. I smiled at her, offered more wine. She just gave a tight-lipped nod.
Dinner was winding down, coffee was being poured, and the atmosphere, despite her quietness, was generally warm and celebratory. Then, out of the blue, she stood up. The clinking of spoons against cups stopped. The murmur of conversation died. Every eye in the room turned to her. She cleared her throat, a sound that seemed to echo in the sudden silence.
She looked directly at me, her eyes unblinking. “I’ll allow you to marry my son,” she began, her voice steady, cold. My breath hitched. Allow me? What was she talking about? Everyone looked confused, even my fiancé, whose hand I squeezed under the table, hoping for reassurance. He just stared at his mother, his face paling.
Then she continued, “I’ll allow you to marry my son ONLY IF YOU DONATE A KIDNEY TO HIS BROTHER.”
The words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. My fiancé’s oldest brother, the one who had been so quiet all evening, who looked so frail. A kidney? My mind reeled. What did she mean? This wasn’t a joke. Her face was grim, resolute. The room was utterly silent. I COULDN’T BREATHE. My heart was pounding a frantic drum against my ribs.
I looked at my fiancé, my eyes wide with terror and confusion. He wouldn’t meet my gaze. He just stared at the tablecloth, his knuckles white where he gripped his glass. His silence was deafening. It was a betrayal. It was an answer.
“We found out two months ago,” his mother continued, her voice now a low hum of conviction, as if explaining something completely reasonable. “He’s been sick for a long time. They’ve tested everyone. You’re the only perfect match we’ve found.”
My entire body went cold. Two months ago? He proposed to me barely three weeks ago. My fiancé. The man who swore he loved me, who planned a future with me. He just sat there, unable to look me in the eye.
It wasn’t just his mother’s shocking demand. It wasn’t just the fact that his brother was gravely ill and I knew nothing about it. IT WAS HIS SILENCE. His lack of surprise. The shame etched on his face.
Then, a quiet whisper from his youngest brother, who couldn’t hold it in any longer, broke the terrible silence. He choked out, “He made her do the testing… that’s how we knew…”
HE KNEW.
He knew I was a potential match. He knew about his brother’s illness. He proposed to me because I was his brother’s last hope. My fiancé. My love. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise, was a lie built on the desperate hope that I would save his family, even if it meant sacrificing a part of myself.
The fairy lights suddenly seemed too bright, the food too sweet. The entire evening, the engagement, our three years together, was a calculated manipulation. I was not a fiancée. I was a last resort.
I felt a scream clawing its way up my throat, but no sound came out. Just a silent, guttural sob that tore through me, leaving me hollow. My vision blurred as I finally pulled my hand away from his. His head snapped up, eyes pleading, but it was too late. The man I loved was a stranger. The future I dreamed of was a cruel, sickening illusion. It was a lie.
