I donated bl00d to save my boyfriend after his friends told me he had been in a serious ac:cid:ent. As I left the hospital, I heard someone behind a door say, “I can’t believe she fell for it again.” I said nothing, stared at the br:uis:e on my arm, and pulled out my phone. What I uncovered about our three-year relationship turned that donation into revenge number 96.
PART 1
“If you truly love me, you won’t ask how much blood they need, so you’ll donate without another word,” was the last thing Brendan said before a nurse pushed the needle into my arm.
Forty minutes later, I walked out of the blood bank at a private clinic in La Jolla, my legs weak, a cotton ball taped to my arm, convinced I had just done something heroic for the man I loved.
According to his friends, Brendan had been in a catastrophic car crash while testing a sports car on a private track near Bakersfield. They called me in the middle of the night, insisting he urgently needed compatible blood to survive.
I didn’t question them. Brendan had been my boyfriend for three years, and I would have done anything for him.
While looking for the elevator, I saw a woman in scrubs pushing a small medical cooler. The handwritten label on its side immediately caught my attention.
My name was written across it in bold marker: Chloe Bennett.
I followed her down the quiet hallway. She entered a side room, pulled my blood bag from the cooler, and dropped it into a red biohazard waste container.
I froze, wondering if the lightheadedness was making me see things.
Then laughter drifted from a nearby VIP suite with the door slightly open.
“I honestly can’t believe Chloe fell for it again,” a voice mocked, making my heart stop.
I moved closer and looked inside.
Brendan was lying comfortably on the bed, his hair perfect, with no oxygen tube, injuries, or bandages anywhere.
He scrolled casually through his phone while Mason, Wyatt, and the same fraternity friends who had sobbed on the phone hours earlier surrounded him.
“Which prank are we checking off with this one?” Mason asked while howling with laughter.
Wyatt raised his fingers and counted. “That makes ninety-six.”
The room exploded with laughter, and I felt the ground disappear beneath me.
